Copyright © 2013 Mary Hughes
All rights reserved
When
she finally quit coughing, and he quit laughing, she turnedlifted
her feet and spun on her butt, turning[MH1] her back on him. “You’re dangerous. First you try to
drown me, then you laugh. What if I needed CPR? You’d be laughing too hard.”
“CPR
is for when your heart stops. You mean mouth‑to‑mouth.” Gentle fingers pulled
at her shoulder.
Damn
him for bringing her out here, showing her a lovely time, making her want
things he couldn’t ultimately give.
Although
maybe it wasn’t strictly his fault. He’d done this to help her relax, but maybe
not to get her to relax her guard; maybe he was simply trying to help her be a
better manager.
Still, ultimately, this
was about business,. So she
would give him business. Without turning, she raised her voice and
injected her best professional whine, courtesy of,
channeled Mel Pinlow.
She
pulled away. “I saw Kulinahr while you were gone. Do you know that of all his
so‑called friends, only one person has the guts to help him? After all the good
he’s done for his country, he only has one ally? That’s criminal.”
“It’s
not all that unusual, Vickie. Before he was a head of state. Now, he’s only a
person.” He began caressing her neck when she turned
sharply.
She spun[MH2] to face him. “Only a person? Since
when has that become such a lowly occupation?” Acid tinged her voice.
“I
didn’t say that. I merely meant…”—”
“What?
That heads of state, no matter how ruthless, are more important that
individuals? Isn’t that how we got Stalin and all hisPol
Pot [MH3] and their ilk?”
Cliff’s
tone went cool. “If we are to discuss this instead of relaxing, kindly do not
interrupt me. Especially do not assume to divine my meaning. Unless you can
read minds?”
She
poked her forehead. “Can’t you tell?”
Make love…? Vickie was startled. Before she could even start to
make sense of that, her body was revvingrevved up,
indicating very loudly its desire to fully cooperate. Make love to her. Like on that steamy night in
Middle Yemen, his big body, bare‑chested and hot, pressing her into the
mattress, his mouth sweet and questing.
Her
body didn’t care.
He
knelt before her on the blanket and nuzzled her hair and her neck. His warm
breath, the gentle nudging caress of his cheek triggered an equally warm
response in her chest and lower. Her breasts tightened, became full. His big
palm caressed down her arm, then forward to cup her breast gently. She expelled
a soft sigh and lifted her chin to give him better access to her neck. He nibbled
the smooth skin there.
His
other hand joined in to knead her breasts in tandem. And then he gently,
deliberately, plucked her nipples.
Arousal
zinged through her, sharp sudden need. She lifted her hands to reach for him in
turn.
Damn
it, Ron then. Ron used to do this, too. Even seduce her even though
he wasn’t especially interested, he would. He’d take
her to bed to shut her up. He called it making love, too. Only it wasn’t love‑making.
It was using her.
But,
oh, how he used it.
Desperate
to regain her control, Vickie did the first thing she could think of that would
distract him. She tookgroped for
her half‑full glass of wine, found it, and threwchucked
it over her shoulder.
She
expected him to be angry. She hoped he
would be angry, that cold anger that might let her regain her footing in the
emotional in whirlwind he caused. She
expected to be chopped into pieces small enough for Vickie‑salad sandwiches. She
hoped he would be angry, a cold anger to give her footing in her emotional Cliff-driven
whirlwind.
But
Cliff was just staring at her, his face completely blank. She was confused for
a moment, until she got a good look at his eyes. She could practically see his fine mind
working, so in tensely were his eyes glowingsynapses intensely firing[MH7] .
Panic
set in. No matter how well she had covered her emotions, that well‑oiled
intellect of his would figure it out, if she let it. She had forgotten his keen mind. She had to distract him, quickly. Immediate
distraction was in order. Again, she did the first thing she
thought of.
It was a monumental Freudian slip.
He
hesitated, so she opened her lips and,
closed her eyes. , and
bumped lips.
He
reacted like a starving man. His mouth closed on hers, hard. His hand came up
against her back, and supported her as he leaned against her, bearing her down
onto the blanket. Then he was covering her with his body, as he had that hot
night in Middle Yemen, and his lips were making magic against hers.
She
moaned, instantly reignited, and arched up against him, forgetting the reason
she had tempted him in the first place. Now, there was only response, response
to the hard, powerful body above, commanding her to yield, commanding her to
open herself to him. His hand wrapped in her hair, pulling to turn her head. Her
lips parted and he thrust his tongue deeply into her mouth.
She
had a redhead’s temperament, not just with anger. She wore her heart on her
sleeve too. Keeping her feelings covered was hard.
But
John had said straight out that Cliff would leave if she
acted like those love‑sickavoided lovesick
women. AllSo
she had to do was to pretend that she didn’t
really care, that her heart was invulnerable.
Yes,
that was it. All she had to do was pretend that he loved her, and
pretend that she didn’t love him.
Oh,
God. Did she really love him?
Vickie
didn’t realize she was crying until he sat her up, away from him. Without his
body pressed into hers, even the sun felt cold.
“What…what’s
wrong?” she asked, grinding her fist into her eyes. But she knew. She was
showing her weakness, showing it was impossible for her to fit into his high‑powered
life style.
Showing
the tiny bleeding heart on her sleeve.
[MH1]turned
is a fairly bland, inactive word. Especially if the action says volumes about
the character/lovers' interactions, make it count.
[MH2]An
example of replacing an adverbed-up bland verb with an actiony verb
[MH3]This
needs updating.
[MH4]When
I first started writing I was throwing characters at each other and letting
their inner selves emerge. Sometimes that made them less than sympathetic.
Conflict is good, but it must be escalated naturally not by the characters
having a hair-trigger sarcasm gland.
[MH5]Going
into writing, I had some generic character tells. Now, they work, which is why
I use them. But it does get excessive. Sigh, smile, nod are things any
character can do and they mean something to every reader. But I try to give my
main characters a bit more individuality these days.
[MH6]Again,
sudden over-the-top response.
[MH7]This
isn't exactly right but I was editing late :)
[MH8]Dickens
can get away with it, but always be suspicious of sentences that start "It
was" or "There was". Usually that signals an opportunity to
liven things up.
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