Hot Chips and Sand
Copyright © 2012 Mary Hughes
All rights reserved
She
considered not changing. But she found her jade dress hanging in the closet,
the one she hadshe’d
bought for her college roommate’sElissa’s
wedding and had nothadn’t
worn again. The one that had elegant lines and graceful curves and showed
just enough skin showing to be interesting.
So
she shimmied into a new pair of silky pantyhose, slid on the dress and misted
herself with her favorite scent. Then she pulled her hair out of the no‑nonsense
barrette she commonly wore to work, combed it into soft waves and spritzed it
in place. She considered a pair of heels in the closet, but since they
made her back hurt, rejected them in favorso
instead she slipped her feet into of a glossy pair of black slides.
On her way out, she stopped quickly at the
refrigeratorHopefully she wouldn’t be underdressed [MH1] for dinner with a tall glass of iced
tea. Considerably refreshed, she grabbed
her purse and ran out to meet CliffSir.
On
her way out, she stopped at the refrigerator for a couple bottles of water,
opening one and drinking half on the way out. Considerably refreshed, she felt
ready to meet Cliff, and maybe even computer magnate Sir Humphrey Hawkesclyffe.
He
lounged by the car, deep in the latest issue of a specialty hardware magazine. He
looked up at her approach, and, strangely enough, .
She
slowed, to savor the warmth in his eyes, a warmth
she
hadshe’d never seen before. She got
in liked it. See
what professionalism get you? He opened the passenger door, and she slid into
the car, determined to keep that warmth in his eyes,
determined to keep her temper under control, determined to exude
professionalism. All right, sexy
professionalism.
Determined
to be perfect.
The
inside, however, was not rustic and homey. In fact, it looked like one of the eighteenth
centuryThick
red carpet, gold flocked wallpaper with dark veined marble. Antique gold
fixtures, rich red linen and glossy dark wood was everywhere. [MH3] It reminded her of European palaces she hadshe’d
toured in Europe last summer, so rich andwith
Ron, ornate was it. And
the clientele she could seeand high-toned. The men
and women sitting elegantly straight draped in the latest fashion creations or
perfectly-tailored suits reeked of old money. ‘Wonderful,’ she
thought. ‘He picks a great time to play
British noble. I shouldWarmth
and professionalism leaked from her like balloon gas. Should have gone
out and bought something new and stunning.’
Cliff,
howeverBritish
noble that he was, seemed right at home. The maitre d’hotel
greeted him by first name, and
showed them directly to one of the best tables in the place.
Then
the wine steward came by, and he and Cliff spent about ten
minutes discussing the finer points of the selections on the list, all of which
were over $100probably a couple
Franklins a bottle, she was sure. . There
would be no raspberry beer for her tonight.
Then,
of course, the waiter came over to explain the menu for the evening. In French.
Cliff handled that with an aplomb she certainly wouldn’t have managed with her
one semester of French. . She did
get in one merci beaucoup, but other than that was satisfied to nod
pleasantly. So much for Ms. Perfection, she thought ruefully. She might as well
get used to feeling like she had braids, braces and skinned knees around Sir
Humphrey.
After that, at least three
people found excuses to drop by and chat with Cliff. “Oh, darling, I’ve known
Sir Humphrey for years!” one rather large woman exclaimed. She dripped with
diamonds, and pronounced ‘years’ with threetwo
syllables.
Vickie had to bite her cheek to keep awake
while she was talking. [MH4]
The
third person she didn’t like at all. All right, maybe it had something to do
with the woman’s incredible beauty. It surely couldn’t have been how she had
waved her decolletagedécolletage
in front of Cliff as if she were displaying Mt. Everest
Vickie
unwadded her napkin as the woman swayed back to her table. She
With all the visitors she needn’t have
worried about spending time alonehaving an intimate
dinner with Cliff at all. Maybe this was one of those restaurants
she had read about, where people went to be seen by the in‑crowd, not to really
eat or enjoy each other’s company, or even to discuss business. She would have been better off canceling and
going to McDonald’s. Then, as if he hadn’t
had enough visitors, Cliff waved the waiter back to the table. She was just about to excuse herself and walk
home, all twenty or thirty miles, when the waiter reached them. Cliff casually held out a bill of rather
large denomination.
Then,
as if he hadn’t had enough visitors, Cliff waved the waiter back to the table. Vickie
was about to excuse herself and walk home, all twenty or thirty miles, when
Cliff casually held out a bill of rather large denomination to the waiter and
said, “Do you have anything a little more secluded?”
The
waiter looked at Cliff, then at Vickie, then smiled at Cliff. “Of
course, sir.”
Vickie
blushed. “We have business,” she put in, then .” She
realized that that didn’t sound any better. Sure they had
business. She was wearing the type of dress that just oozed business.
But
the waiter was already leading the way out of the main dining
room. . Cliff picked up their drinks and
stood, waiting. Apparently she was supposed to go next. So she followed the
waiter, trying very hard not to think of the big man just behind her. Certainly
not trying to sway like Ms. McKinley. Well, maybe a little.
The
waiter lead them to a small room with a single table. Cliff putset
down the drinks and pulled a chair out for her. Oh, wonderful.
Fry
my motherboard.[MH5] She had never done this right. The times Ron had
tried it, she had either fallen straight on her behind, or he had bump‑bump‑bumped
the chair into place. One time he had scraped the thing over her foot. So much
for not embarrassing herself.
But
as she sat,bent knees
Cliff smoothly pushed the chair in so that her . Her behind
hit the chaircushion just
as the chair reached the optimal position.
Perfect.
She had
A
little tremble like butterfly wings tickled her tummy. She’d never
meshed so perfectly with someone else in her life. Certainly not her social life. In fact, it had felt a little like Not
even working onwith her
team, where each one knew the others so well, words
were often unnecessary.
Cliff
took the chair across from her. His eyes sparkled over the candle between them,
and he smiled again, that warm, wonderful smile. He took his glass, and as if
he had read her mind, toasted, “To teamwork.”
Unnerved,
she took her glass too, but only mumbled some inanity before taking a deep gulp.
She quickly put the glass down, and then, feeling strangely shy, looked at him.
He
was gazing at her as though she were the only thing in the room. She had
noticed that about him, of course; this before, his
ability to concentrate totally on a single person or thing. But it still made
her tingle, made her feel absolutely special. Her heart thudded as his gaze
shifted downward, to her mouth, her chin, the thin gold chain at her neck, and
finally lingering aton the
gentle curves of her breasts. Then he raised his eyes to hers and his smile
became warmer, knowing, intimate.
The
clank of china warned her that the waiter was coming down the hall toward them.
But Cliff did not release her eyes the whole time as the waiter set their soup
before them, refilled their wine and water glasses, and cleaned a few odds and
ends from the table. And when they were again alone, he took her hand.
She
trembled as thelong bronzed,
slim fingers touched hers. Artistic, yes, but quite strong, she
noted while as he leisurely traced the lines on
her palm. Each stroke seemed, like cat’s fur, to build up the charge on her
skin. Then he turned her hand over and caressed the back of it with his
fingertips. Her breathing had become shallow, her eyes bright with the
sensations he was evoking. He turned her hand back over, considered it a moment,
and slowly, lightly, kissed her palm.
His
eyes gleamed in the semidarkness, watching her. She closed her
eyes and suppressed the groan in her throat. She could not see him watching her carefully[MH6] , eyes gleaming in the semidarkness. She did not see him read her beginning
arousal, which she was trying soShe tried
desperately to hide. the beginning of her arousal. But when his tongue followed the same lines as
his fingers had moments before, she gasped.
Her
eyes flew open but she could not stop him or her reactions as he. A
small, intimate smile rested on lips that gently kissed, then
nibbled her wrist. His one handHe
held hersher hand,
but now the otherhis free hand
began caressing the inside of her arm, and the sensitive
skin at the joint, while his mouth worked its way up to
her fingers. Then, with hisinside
her elbow. She trembled in response.
His
eyes locked on towith hers.
Holding her gaze captive, he lowered his mouth onto her index
finger, grazing it once with his teeth, and then closing on it, hard and
suckling lightly.
Her
breathing became ragged. It seemed as though he was trying to extract every
ounce of her through her fingertip. She was now more aroused than she had been
in years, and yet he had touched nothing other than one hand and arm. He was probing the delicate flesh at the base
of each finger with his tongue. She
imagined what the sensations would be at her earlobe. Or neck.
Or along the curve of her breast.
He backed
off suckling and began probing the delicate flesh at the base of each finger
with his tongue. Only her hand, but she could imagine what that hot mouth would
feel like on her earlobe. He neck. The curve of her breast.
An
embarrassed cough brought
her out of her entrancement, to an awareness of the jerked
her upright.[MH7] The pair of waiters had
glided noiselessly in the room, and
were ready to serve the main dish. Apparently, itOr maybe they’d made
noise but she’d been totally enraptured by Cliff’s talented mouth.
The
dish was something that had to be finished with great flourish by
the table, by dousing it with alcohol and turning
it into a three‑alarm fire.
[MH1]This
sets up a bit I did later. I may end up taking out the whole underdressed/overdressed
thing.
[MH2]I
changed my paragraphing significantly after realizing my husband beta reader
was missing important facts that I’d put mid-paragraph.
Now the way I learned it, you put your most important
thing at the end of the paragraph, and lead up to it. But when I did that it
didn’t create excitement, it created confusion. Granted, my husband is a speed
reader, but how many other readers read the first sentence in a paragraph and,
if it doesn’t interest them, skip to the next?
So I started putting important stuff RIGHT AT THE
BEGINNING. I also break paragraphs so that really important things stand out, a
single line sandwiched between two thicker paragraphs. Like this.
[MH5]Characters
in stories--not just mine--are always
swearing for emphasis. As a reader I get tired of that. But even “Good grief”
and “Oh wonderful” are just gentler substitutes for swearing. I like to get creative. It’s a quirk
of mine and taken too far probably annoys some readers. But I’d rather do this
than have damn everything.
[MH6]This
is a POV error. She can’t see him! How does she know he’s watching? If I were
doing omniscient POV or even mixed in a quick hop to Cliff’s head, I could do
it. I chose to keep inside Vickie’s head and work the info in another way.
