Aftershocks -  Part Four

by

Reagan Kavanagh

 This work of adult fiction includes adult language and experiences; you have been warned.  No offense to any person - living or dead – is intended.   © Reagan Kavanagh 2005.

Chapter 1

Claire

I leaned against the closed door, breathing hard.  Christ, but the man knew how to kiss!  I was beginning to think I might have bitten off way more than I could reasonably chew and for the first time in my entire life, I didn’t care.  I’d spent my life doing the “right thing,” always being proper, appropriate, and suitably circumspect.  Now I was quite literally working without a net.  I had no frame of reference for a relationship of this sort and, clearly, even though Derek and I had known each other for less than 24 hours, we did have a relationship.  I’d told him things I’d never shared with another living soul and probably never would again, and I trusted him totally with my confidence.  I also felt beyond any doubt that he felt the same way, particularly given the things he’d told me about the demise of his relationship with Denise and the one still ongoing with Kelsey.  I shook my head and smiled to myself as I walked across the room to the bureau, pulling out clean undergarments, then went to the closet to get out what I would wear that day.  I was just about to step into the shower when Terri burst into the room, and banged on the bathroom door.

“If it’s Terri, come on in …we can talk while I shower.”  That was an inane comment …who the hell would it be, if not Terri?  The door opened and in she came and leaned against the counter while I shampooed my hair.

“I don’t fucking believe it.  You spent the night with Derek MacMurray …what’s he like?”  I knew where she was going with that question, and had to laugh.  I doubted she’d ever in a million years believe that all we had done was talk and then go chastely to sleep, fully clothed, snuggled up like old friends.  Oh well, truth is stranger than fiction, and always has been.

“He’s very nice, extremely intelligent, very private, and even more vulnerable …so don’t push him with personal questions, all right?”  She stuck her head around the shower curtain as I was lathering up the washcloth.

“Are you telling me you two didn’t do ANYTHING other than talk and just …sleep?”  I nodded and continued with my ablutions.

“That’s it …I know no one would believe it, but that’s the gospel truth.  We talked about a lot of things and found that we actually have quite a bit in common.  When we couldn’t stop the yawns, he dragged me to the bed and pulled me down with him.  I put my head on his shoulder and I think both of us were asleep within a minute.  He woke up first and then woke me.  He ordered breakfast and asked what I had planned for the day.  I told him that you and I were planning on going to the Alamo as you’d never seen it, and he asked if he and Thomas – that’s his bodyguard – could come along.  Seemed like a good idea to me and I really didn’t think you’d object, so I said yes.  The rest you know because that’s when I knocked on your door.  Now go and have some coffee or whatever and let me finish up here and get dressed.  Derek said he’d be back in an hour-and-a-half, but I have the feeling that I’ll be doing good to be ready before he’s calling from his car and waiting for us …I told him to do that and we’d meet them downstairs.

“Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death,” I heard her whisper as she closed the bathroom door behind herself.  I finished my shower, dried my hair, and applied my make-up, got into my under garments and went to the bedroom to get dressed.  Terri was standing at the window and turned as I came in.

“What kind of car did you say he’s driving?”

“Black Ford Expedition, from one of the rental agencies.  Why?”

“Well, there’s a Black Ford Expedition with rental agency plates in the drive down there, and a cop keeping everyone away from it.  I think your Prince Charming has arrived.”  I tore over to the window just in time to see the window on the passenger side slide down and caught a glimpse of Derek’s face as he said something to the police officer before the window slid closed again.  Admittedly, I’d taken a bit of a leisurely shower and my time in drying my hair and putting on my make-up but if he was already waiting for us, Derek must have been traveling at Mach one to get back to his hotel, shower, dress, and be back here waiting for us so quickly.  I rushed into my clothing and the phone rang just as I ran up the zip on my slacks.  Terri picked up the phone and handed it to me, a grin as big as Texas on her face.

“Hey, Luv, we’re about a mile from your hotel …you ready?”

“Liar,” I said.  “I just looked out the window and saw you run down the window and talk to the cop.  How long have you been waiting?”  He giggled, and so did I.  His laughter was infectious.  I loved it.

“Caught in the act …and I promise, that’s the first and last time I’ll ever lie to you.  Forgive me?  We’ve been here about five minutes.”

“You’re forgiven.  We should be down in a couple of minutes.  I’m just getting into my shoes and jacket.  Unlock the doors and we’ll barrel in before anyone else wises up.”

“I’ll be waiting,” and he hung up.  I slid into my jacket, grabbed my handbag, checked myself in the mirror and Terri and I were out the door and heading for the elevator in record time.  As we walked out the door of the hotel, the door to the Expedition slid open and I got into the back seat beside Derek as Terri climbed into the front bucket seat next to Thomas.  Derek made the introductions and Thomas looked back at me.

“Which way, Claire?  You’re the tour guide,” he said and I directed him out into the morning traffic toward Interstate 35 heading south toward San Antonio.  Terri had already called the restaurant and taken care of most of the details still outstanding; anything else we could do when we returned from the Alamo.  “How far is it …and you will tell me before I’ve passed the exit, right?”

“Yes, Thomas.  I’m not one of those women who tells you that you should have exited “back there” as I point over my shoulder.”  That got a hoot of laughter from Derek and Terri, as Thomas accelerated up the on ramp and onto the Interstate.  Then I amended my statement slightly.

“Of course, once we’re in San Antonio, I’m as dependent on the road signs as you are.  It’s been 15 years since I’ve visited the Alamo and I’m sure the freeways and streets have changed substantially.  The good news is that every street sign in the city probably still points toward the Mission so we shouldn’t have any problem finding it, particularly as it’s in the heart of the city.”

Thomas sighed.  “I’m totally in your hands, Luv.”  Derek let out a deep sigh and I turned to him.

“What is it,” I asked softly, and he pulled me close and hugged me.

“I was thinking that I should be so lucky.”

“As to what,” I asked, truly mystified at that point.  He looked at me, dead in the eyes before he answered.

“To be totally in your hands, Claire.  I’d truly love to be that lucky.”

I had no answer for him …at least not one I was willing to verbalize with anyone else around, and I just snuggled in more closely to him.  He pulled me in even closer and I closed my eyes as I felt his arms close around me, hoping that Terri and Thomas were too occupied with their own conversation to be paying any attention to what was going on in the back seat.  Though I’d fought the inclination the night before and I felt Derek had as well, there was nothing in Heaven or on Earth that I wouldn’t have given to be in his bed, in his arms, and making love with him.  I had never wanted a man as much in my life as I did Derek MacMurray at that moment.  I knew that he knew it when he tilted my head up to look into his eyes and kissed me, quite chastely, on the forehead before pulling me close to his side and keeping me there for the duration of the drive to the Alamo.

I knew something else as well.  I knew that if before we left to go our separate ways in three days time we weren’t lovers, we would be the next time we met.  I also knew beyond any doubt that there would be a “next time.”  I know that sounds presumptuous and conceited, but the reality was there, nonetheless.  We’d already shared more than many people in lifetime commitments do, and the bond – though unspoken – was there.  We would meet again and I prayed that when we did, it would prove to be what both of us had searched for all our lives.  The one thing that made me skeptical about a relationship with Derek was the fact that I was considerably older than he was – and I would tell him how much older the next time we were alone, regardless of the consequences – and I dreaded his reaction.  That, if nothing else, would be the potential factor for ending our relationship in terms of any than a friendship basis.  Though I wanted to make love with him, I honestly could not imagine him willingly making love with a woman of my age, and that alone made me resolve to tell him and do so quickly.  I promised myself I would tell him that night after we’d left the restaurant.  After all that he’d confided to me the night before, I owed him that honesty.  Before I knew it, Thomas announced that we were coming into San Antonio, and asking for directions.

“Follow the signs,” I said, reluctantly pulling myself out of Derek’s arms and sitting up straight so that I could watch the road signs.  Within minutes, we saw the first of the signs directing us toward the old Mission.  “It shouldn’t be more than 20 minutes to the Mission, if you keep following the direction signs” I said, and Thomas nodded.

“So how old is this place?  What’s the history?”  I looked at Derek; from his earlier interest, I’d thought he knew.

“It’s about 200 years old; as nearly as I recall it was built around 1800.  The Battle of the Alamo during the Texas war for independence from Mexico was in March of 1836.  The defenders of the fort were less than 200, and they were besieged by more than 5,000 troops under the command of General Santa Ana of the Mexican Army.  His orders were that no quarter be given to those who remained in the Mission after the non-combatants – women and children – left.  When the Mexicans overran the Mission, those who actually survived the battle were put to the sword.  Unlike Thermopylae, the Alamo had no messenger of defeat.  It was a total bloodbath."

As we drew closer to the old Mission, I began to recognize landmarks and suddenly realized that the three people in the car with me, having only seen photographs of the Alamo or movies about it, probably expected it to be large and imposing.  I had to disabuse them of that notion and give them the reality before we arrived.

“You guys do realize that this is an old Spanish Mission, and that it’s quite small …nothing like it was depicted in the old John Wayne movie back in the 1960s, don’t you?  The Mission is built around a central courtyard, with the chapel at the back and living quarters and animal pens around the perimeter.  Like most Spanish missions of its time, it was built as a fortress as well as a place of worship.  The Holy Fathers were not strangers to being besieged.”

Terri turned around in the seat and looked at me.  “How long was the Alamo under siege?”  I realized then that none of them really knew anything about the history of this place aside from what they might remember from the films they’d seen.  Okay, it was time for their history lesson.

 

Chapter 2

Derek

I’d already realized that Claire was smart, but the history lesson she gave us as we wound our way through the morning traffic to the old Spanish Mission was comprehensive and more detailed than I’d ever have expected.  She not only knew the facts, there was an underlying passion in her voice that told me this was significantly more important to her than just something she’d learnt in her history classes at school.  She had my undivided attention when she began to answer Terri’s question.

“There’s a lot more to it than just the siege, Terri.  The Battle of the Alamo was the turning point in Texas’ fight for independence from Mexico.  From the day the Alamo fell and word of its defeat reached General Sam Houston and his troops, the rallying cry for the rest of the war was “Remember the Alamo!”  Although most of the Mission’s defenders were Texans and fighting to defend their homes and their land, a number of them came from as far away as Kentucky and Tennessee to support our efforts …David Crockett and James Bowie were among that group.  The commanding officer at the Alamo was Colonel William Barrett Travis, a young man in his late twenties if I recall correctly, and a graduate of West Point.  His orders from General Houston – the commander of the Texas Army – were to secure the Alamo and hold it.  That was intended to give the troops under Houston’s command time to secure the mission at Goliad – La Bahia – and then move further north and east toward the coast, rallying more forces as they went.  At no time did Houston order Travis to hold the Mission at all costs, only to hold out as long as he could and surrender only if there was no option.  Houston fully expected the Alamo to fall; there were only 183 men defending her even with the volunteers from Kentucky and Tennessee who slipped into the Mission through the arroyo – a dried up river bed – and past Santa Ana’s troops under cover of darkness.” 

“When General Santa Ana ordered Travis to surrender, Travis called all the defenders into the courtyard of the Mission – even those who were injured and in the infirmary were brought out on their cots – and according to legend, drew a line in the sand with his saber.  He told them that he had no intention of surrendering and that he would fight to the last man to hold the Mission.  In short, there would be no surrender and no retreat.  Travis had already dispatched a letter to General Houston in which he said, “I shall never surrender or retreat.”  He made sure his men realized that Santa Ana would give no quarter to anyone who remained inside the Mission.  He gave anyone who wanted to leave the opportunity and asked those who were willing to fight to the death to step over the line and join him.  Every man there did so.  Even a few who had been wounded earlier and were in the Mission's infirmary demanded to be carried across the line on their cots.  Travis sent a message to Santa Ana saying that he and his men would never surrender and certainly not retreat and asked for safe passage out for the women and children, which Santa Ana gave.  Santa Ana’s message back to Travis was precisely what Travis had expected …no quarter.  The battle lasted for 13 days.  When I was a child studying Texas History, the phrase we were taught was “Thirteen Days to Glory.” 

Claire stopped for a minute and looked off into the distance as Thomas drove into a parking space across the street from the Mission.  I could tell this story was something that moved her deeply.  She shivered and I pulled her up against me and sat there with my arm around her; we all sat there in the car, fascinated and listening intently as she continued.

“The Mission was completely surrounded, their supply lines cut off and little hope of reinforcements arriving in time to do any good, even though Travis had managed to get a courier out and on the road to Goliad to Sam Houston asking for reinforcements.  They never arrived because Houston had no one to send.  The defenders of the Alamo would be sacrificed on the alter of our independence, and every man there knew it.  The battle raged for 13 days, and the Alamo fell on March 23^rd, 1836.  The few men alive when the Mission was overrun by the Mexican Army were slaughtered, some of them in the Chapel itself.  Santa Ana executed those of his soldiers who killed the men in the Chapel for the implied sacrilege.  Although ruthless in battle, the man did have some decency and was outraged at the murder of men inside a House of God.  The only reason we have the story is the fact that there was one woman, her child, and a Black servant still alive inside the Mission when Santa Ana rode in.  He gave them safe conduct through his lines, putting them on the road toward Goliad to find General Houston.  She found Houston’s army, and Sam Houston recorded her story for posterity.  She was our messenger of defeat; everyone else in the Mission died that day.”

I put my hand on her face and turned her to look at me.  “What happened then, Claire?”  She took a deep breath and continued.

“The mission at Goliad – La Bahia – was evacuated before the Mexican Army reached it and they left it alone other than setting fire to the outbuildings, and continued toward San Jacinto where Sam Houston’s army was camped.  San Jacinto is on the outskirts of what is today the City of Houston.  It’s a swamp, quite literally, and Houston knew Santa Ana would have difficulty in getting his artillery pieces and cannons in there to put them to any effective use.  That evened up the odds a bit, as it forced the Mexicans to fight with only their rifles and side arms, including their swords.  And Houston had an ace up his sleeve that Santa Ana wasn’t counting on.”  Claire stopped talking for a moment and smiled.

“I don’t recall her name, but she was known then – and has survived in the history books – as the Yellow Rose of Texas.  She was a beautiful woman, a quadroon with light golden skin; she was also very …talented.  She approached Houston and offered her talents to help him catch Santa Ana off guard; Santa Ana had a fatal weakness for beautiful women, and Houston knew that.  The Rose infiltrated the Mexican lines and pretended to be seeking refuge from Houston’s army.  Of course, she was immediately taken to Santa Ana, who gave her the refuge she requested.  She seduced him and while that was happening, Houston’s troops moved in, catching the Mexican Army off guard, many of them asleep and Santa Ana quite literally with his pants down.  He surrendered to Houston on the spot.”  She stopped again and laughed with the rest of us.  I was busily conjuring mental images of what a rout that must have been, not to mention a few rather erotic images of the Rose and the Mexican General …but their faces were Claire’s and my own.  I shifted in the seat, hoping that Claire would take her hand off my leg – it had been resting on my thigh for the last half hour – before my arousal became obvious to her and I embarrassed myself.  I should have remained still, because when I moved she moved her hand and though I’m sure it wasn’t intentional, brought it into full contact with my now obvious erection. 

She didn’t jerk her hand away as if she’d been burned but did move it pretty quickly and looked at me.  Thank Christ Thomas and Terri were nattering at each other about the Yellow Rose and were oblivious to what was going on in the back seat.  I took her hand and held it, looking at her silently for a tic.  She didn’t seem upset, just a bit surprised, and I spoke quietly.

“I’m sorry, Claire.  I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” and I meant it.  Her other hand came up and stroked down the side of my face, lingering just for a tic before she took it away.

“Don’t be sorry.  I’m actually more than a bit flattered.”  There was no sign of embarrassment on her face or in her eyes; she was totally candid and watching me closely.  It occurred to me that if she knew what I was thinking at that point she probably would have been embarrassed, because what I wanted was her in my bed and to bury myself inside of her.  Needless to say, that notion did nothing to alleviate my physical discomfort and I shifted again. 

”Ummm, …perhaps we should get out of the car and go check out the Mission?”  She smiled and agreed that was probably a good idea and we opened the doors and climbed out with Thomas and Terri behind us, still chattering like a couple of magpies.  I pulled my ball cap from my hip pocket and put it on, then captured Claire’s hand in mine and laced my fingers through hers as we crossed the car park.  “This okay with you?”  I held up our intertwined fingers.

“Yes, it’s very okay with me.”  She smiled at me, and we headed up to the entrance in the wall and went inside.  Claire had been right.  The Mission was very small, smaller even than I’d thought from what she’d said.  We spent the rest of the morning there, not leaving until close to one in the afternoon.  We wandered down the River Walk and found a small Mexican restaurant and had lunch, then headed back to the car and on back toward Austin.  It was late afternoon when we got back to Claire and Terri’s hotel and by the time we pulled up in the drive out front, I’d arranged for Thomas and me to pick them up at six and head to the restaurant.  That would give Terri and Claire time to oversee the last of the arrangements for dinner, as the rest of their group would begin arriving around seven.  Thomas and I would stay in one of the smaller dining rooms just off the large one reserved for our gathering, and wait until everyone had arrived before we joined the group.  For some reason, I was a bit nervous about the whole thing until I sorted out why.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be at the dinner that night; after all that had been the motivation for the trip, but what I wanted most was to just be alone with Claire.  She and Terri came into the room about five minutes before seven to check on us, and Thomas immediately reengaged Terri, picking up the conversation they’d had going in the car when we’d arrived at the restaurant.  I pulled Claire to one side and looked at her before I spoke.

“How long do you need to be here tonight, I mean how soon after dinner could we get out of here without irrevocably offending anyone?”  She gave me a long look and then said probably until around eight-thirty or so.  “So can we leave about then?  I’d like to take you out, perhaps to one of the clubs on Sixth Street?  Listen to some music and talk?  Maybe dance a bit?”  I was as nervous as I’d been at sixteen asking the girl I’d had a crush on for six months to a school dance, and I don’t think I could have stood it if she’d said no.  Thank Christ, she didn’t.

“I’d like that, and Terri can handle the rest of the evening.  What about Thomas?”  I told her we’d leave him with Terri to deal with the rest of the group and that was fine with her.  She thought for a tic and then continued.  “We’ll have to make some sort of excuse …you can always plead fatigue, but I don’t think we should leave together.  I can say I have a migraine, and leave around 8:30.  If you wait until around 9:00 to leave, I’ll meet you back at my room and we can take off.  Will that do you?”  That “did” me just fine and we laughed at our admittedly adolescent conspiracy and walked back to Thomas and Terri to let them in on our plans.  They knew something was up and had apparently been watching us for several minutes.

“Thomas, we’re out of here between 8:30 and 9:00, and heading down to Sixth Street to listen to some music at one of the clubs.  Sorry, but you and Terri aren’t invited.  Claire’s going to plead a migraine and leave first; I’ll say I’m knackered and leave around 9:00 and pick her up back at the hotel.  If you need me, I’ll have my cell on.”  They both grinned.  Somehow, I didn’t think they would miss us in the least.  Thomas was obviously working at full speed on his girl in this particular port and Terri seemed quite happy with that fact.  Terri and Claire left us then and went in to meet the first of their mates who had begun arriving as we were conspiring.

Around 7:15, I heard Terri banging her silverware on a glass and trying to get everyone’s attention.  It took a couple of minutes, but everyone finally got quiet and she did the mistress-of-ceremonies bit, getting everyone to introduce themselves all round and start ordering dinner.  After they’d done that, I heard Claire’s voice asking for their attention.  I moved over to the door and propped it open a bit so that I could watch her; Thomas was standing just behind me, watching Terri. 

“Ladies, Terri and I have a bit of a surprise for you - something we think you’ll really enjoy - and that I don’t think you’d ever have anticipated we could pull off had you known what we were doing.”  There were murmurs and speculation round the tables as Claire continued.

“Last month Terri and I had an idea.  We never expected anything to come of it, but we got the surprise of our lives last night.  We sent a card to Derek MacMurray along with a letter, expressing our concern for his family and his own stress of late, and extended an invitation to both he and the band to join us here tonight.  As I said, we never expected anything to come of it, but when we checked into our hotel last night Derek was waiting for us.”  Gasps and then a shocked silence as her statement began to soak in.  I heard a voice with a British accent ask a question.

“You mean they actually came?”

“Well, yes and no.  The band didn’t but Derek and Thomas – his friend and bodyguard – did, and they’re in the room next door waiting to come in and meet all of you.  They’re having dinner with us and will visit for a while though probably not too long as they’re both very tired from their flight in, so when they decide it’s time to leave, I’m asking you please not to detain them further.  They’ve done us a terrific favor by flying halfway around the world to spend a bit of time with us and we need to respect their need for rest and their privacy.  I’ve asked if taking photos of with them would be all right and they’ve said yes, so I hope everyone has their camera with them.  For those of you who don’t, we’ll get photos for you as well and send them to you as quickly as possible.“  With that, she walked toward me and opened the door all the way, grabbed my hand, and pulled me into the room with Thomas right behind me. 

I’m not sure what I’d expected but, whatever that was, was not what I saw.  I think I’d been anticipating the same sort of screaming and bouncing about that we always got at the concerts or at film premieres, with at least half of the women being totally daggy.  What I saw was a group of women ranging from their early 30s to perhaps 65 or 70, all well dressed and well groomed and very well mannered.  Thomas and I worked our way round the table, shaking hands, giving and receiving hugs, and found ourselves grinning back at them and enjoying it as much as they seemed to be.  Claire and Terri had gotten the tables arranged so that they formed a horseshoe, and the four of us were at the bottom of the ‘U.’  I apologized to all of them for having canceled the tour but also explained that at that point in my life, I just couldn’t see my way clear to do anything else.  I’d been at the breaking point and something had to give.  Unfortunately, the tour was the only thing on my schedule that was expendable and so I’d canceled it.  I was amazed and truly touched at the level of empathy in that room and I was close to tears at that point.  When I sat down Claire’s hand went under the table and she squeezed my thigh and smiled at me; when I looked at her, I could see the sparkle of unshed tears in her eyes and before I realized what I was doing, I’d leaned over and kissed her on the cheek in full view of everyone in the room.

We had a great meal, good liquor, and really good conversation.  There were a lot of questions asked but nothing too personal or that I minded answering.  There were many good wishes for my family, questions about my horses and dogs and the farm and before I knew it I realized that Claire was rubbing her forehead and frowning.  That worried me a bit; she was either a great natural actor or really was getting a headache.  Fortunately, it was the former and a few minutes later she stood and excused herself for a tic, then returned and announced that while she hated being a party pooper, she was getting a migraine and was going back to her hotel and to bed.  Thomas and Terri and I hugged her and she left.  I waited about ten minutes and started yawning and managed to extricate myself pleading fatigue, and left within half an hour, beating a fast path to Claire’s room.  She was waiting for me when I arrived, and I pulled her into my arms and just held her.

 

Chapter 3

Claire

When Derek knocked on the door, I’d been in the midst of changing out of my slacks and dress boots and back into my jeans and cowboy boots, running to the door barefoot while struggling to get into my jeans.  I didn’t stop to think about how suggestive it was that my blouse-tail was half out when I threw open the door.  He stepped in and closed the door and turned to look at me.  Admittedly, I was flustered, my hair in disarray from my rush, and one hand down my jeans in the back, tucking as I went.  He stopped dead and just looked at me for a moment and then walked toward me and pulled me into his arms, his mouth dropping to mine and kissing me as if there wouldn’t be another opportunity.  He stopped as suddenly as he began and stepped away from me, pulling his hands through his hair.

“Christ!  Claire, I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have done that, should never have presumed that ….”  His voice trailed off and he turned and paced the room as I stood there wishing to hell he hadn’t stopped.  He was clearly very annoyed at himself and I quickly stuffed my shirt into my jeans, grabbed my belt and put it on and pulled on my boots before going to him.  He turned and looked at me, desire on his face and pain in his eyes; he was running both hands through his hair.  I took his face in my hands and stilled his movement.

“Derek, it’s all right.  I’m not offended.”  He looked at me.

“You should be, Claire.”

“I think that’s my call rather than yours, don’t you?” 

“Fuck if I know,” and sat heavily on the side of my bed.  I sat beside him and waited for him to look at me.  When he did, I spoke again.

“Derek, I’m flattered, incredibly so, particularly given the difference in our ages and I want to make love with you but before that can happen, you need to be aware of just how much older I am than you.”  He looked at me.

“You said earlier today that you’re older, and that doesn’t matter.  Age isn’t anything that’s ever held any relevance for me,” and he suddenly grinned.  “Well, unless you’re below the age of consent, that is,” and his arm came over and pulled me close.

“Derek, the difference does matter, to me if not to you.  You don’t need to be involved with a woman a generation older than yourself, and that’s what I am.  You need to know that before this gets any more complicated than it already is.”

“All right …so how much older than me are you?  Ten years?  Fifteen?  Twenty?  Do you honestly think it matters, Claire?  It’s you I care about, not when you were born.  It’s you, Claire Dunbar - the woman - that’s important to me, not how many birthdays you’ve had.”  I so wanted to believe him, even if the dream only had another day or so to run and if we did make love before he returned home, I wanted it to be the fulfillment of that dream.  I didn’t think I could bear having him look at me in the cold light of dawn, and see the disgust on his face as my age became apparent without my make-up on or my hair combed.

“I’m twelve years older than you, Derek.  And while the difference may not be that apparent just now, I can assure you that in the cold, gray light of dawn, it is.  You’ve not seen me then, and I don’t think I could stand seeing you turn away from me, knowing that you’d made a mistake …knowing that I’d effectively lied about my age by omitting to tell you earlier.”  His hand moved under my jaw, tilting my face up to his and he smiled at me.

“But I have, Claire.  I have seen you in that “cold, gray light of dawn,” as you put it, and I thought you were beautiful, just as I do now.  Have you already forgotten that I spent last night in your bed?  Don’t you realize that I watched you as you slept after I woke this morning?  Do you know how lovely and fragile you were as you slept?  All the tiny little lines of care around your eyes were smoothed away …you were beautiful then, just as you are now.  The age difference doesn’t matter to me.  I’m not one of those men who has ever enjoyed what the media refers to as “eye candy.”  I prefer women to girls and always have.  That’s what attracted me to you last night, and it’s what attracts me now.  Can’t you see that?”  I sat there, hardly breathing.  Of course he’d seen me in the early morning, at what I considered my worst, and I was sure he was being kind.  Could I actually trust what he’d just said or was he back into performance mode, a typical male interested only in sex and capable of giving the performance of a lifetime in order to get it?  I wanted to believe him, so very much, as much as I’d ever wanted anything in my life.  I stood and crossed the room and stood looking out the window, confused and conflicted and terribly unsure.  I turned back to him before I spoke.

“Twelve years is a lifetime, Derek, you can’t imagine the difference it could make.”  He stayed where he was, seeming to know intuitively that I didn’t want him holding me just then, that I had to make my point now before I totally lost my nerve.  Finally he stood and came toward me, holding out his hands, and I placed mine in them.

“Why don’t you try trusting me when I tell you that it truly makes no difference to me, Claire?  I won’t push you into anything you don’t want to do, but I will continue telling you that your age is not a factor to me because that’s the truth.”  I looked at him, wanting to believe and finally stepped into his arms; he held me close for a moment, then looked into my eyes again.

“But for now, I seem to recall we had a date to go listen to some music and dance a bit.”  He tugged me across the room and held my blazer for me as I slipped it on.  Before I could say anything else, we were out the door and on our way to Sixth Street.

 

Chapter 4

Derek

I’d known convincing Claire that her age wasn’t important to me was going to be difficult, but I’d not bargained on her position being as entrenched as it was.  Of course, I didn’t know for sure, but I was willing to bet that somewhere along the path of her life, either Claire herself or someone very important to her had been strung along by a man saying what I was now but not truly meaning it.  I fucking detest men who pull that sort of shit with a woman just to get a root because the damage that they do is damned near irreparable.  Clearly, I had my work cut out for me in changing her mind and I resolved to keep chipping away at her position until I’d convinced her that I was sincere.  I also realized that it wasn’t likely to happen while we were both still in Austin, but I’m basically a patient man (though most wouldn’t believe that), and I never fucking give up on something once I set my mind to it.  I definitely wasn’t giving up on Claire Dunbar.  I’d already realized that I’d be calling and e-mailing her every day we were apart until I got through her shell.  I was hooked, even no longer than I’d known her, and that was clear.  My job now was to make sure that she understood that, understood that I wasn’t feeding her a line of bollocks just to get her into my bed.  I wanted more from Claire than sex, a great deal more.

It was also clear that while I wanted a great deal to make love to Claire, to make love with her, that this most likely was not the time.  The time wouldn’t be right until she trusted me, until I could make her understand that her age and my own were not a significant factor in whatever relationship we were building and we were definitely building a relationship.  I had talked more openly and honestly with Claire than I think I’d ever done with a woman in my life, Kelsey included, other than possibly my Mum.  Somehow, being with Claire was just right and right in a way that I couldn’t recall ever having felt right before. 

We hit a couple of the clubs on Sixth Street, but left both of them quickly …too crowded, too noisy, and too great a likelihood of my being recognized.  I was irritated, probably visibly, as we stood beside Claire’s Jeep Cherokee, just wanting to find some place dark and semi-quiet where we could talk and hideout for a bit.  We were standing in the glow of the street lamps, me leaning against the side of her car with my arms around her as she snuggled in against me.  Of course that particular posture wasn’t doing anything to reduce my current level of physical frustration either, and I truly was trying not to let her know that.  Suddenly she pulled away from me and looked up at me.

“I know where we can go; it’s not on the Drag, and it’s almost always less crowded and quieter,” she said, fishing into her pocket for the car keys.  I was certainly game, particularly when you consider that I intensely dislike cold weather, this was Austin, Texas, it was January and with the temperature probably somewhere in the low forties, I was shivering.  We piled into her car and she wheeled out of the car park and off into the darkness, leaving the Drag behind us as she drove away from the river. 

“You going to tell me where we’re going?”  She nodded and smiled as she turned onto Red River Street.

“The Steamboat.  A friend and I were there for a concert last year – saw Garth Adam’s band, Ether, when they played there.  It’s much larger than any of the clubs on Sixth Street, the bar is separated from the venue where the bands play, and it’s dark.  Lots of tables tucked back into corners.”  I smiled into the darkness and placed my hand on her leg, relieved when she didn’t flinch or pull away from my touch.  A few tics later she pulled into a slot in the small car park beside the Steamboat, and we headed for the door.  We got our tickets – I’d no idea who was playing, and didn’t care – and we were inside and had found a table in less than five minutes.  We were so far back into a darkened corner, I’m surprised the server could find us, but she did and said she’d be right back with our drinks.  I looked about …no one anywhere close to us, and I moved my chair closer to Claire’s.

Claire looked at me in the gloom and I could see that she seemed more relaxed now, though whether it was because we were away from the crowds of earlier in the evening or because perhaps she was trying to trust me, I had no idea.  Finally, she spoke again, her voice so low that I could barely hear her, and so full of emotion that it was painful.

“Derek, I’m about to say and do something I’ve never done before in my life, and that’s to completely open my heart and soul to a man I’ve just met.  I feel closer to you than I think I’ve ever felt to any man, and that frightens me because it leaves me completely vulnerable.  If you tell me that our age difference truly doesn’t matter to you, I’ll believe you.  All I ask is that you not lie to me because it isn’t necessary.  I can handle a one-night stand.  I can handle a brief affair and never seeing you again.  What I couldn’t deal with would be to realize – or to learn a week or a month from now – that you’d lied to me.  If all you want from me is sex, that’s fine …just don’t lie to me.  Don’t pretend that you care for me if you don’t.” 

By the time she’d finished speaking I’d pulled her from her chair and onto my lap, holding her tightly, feeling her trembling with …I wasn’t entirely sure what.  I turned her face to mine and looked straight into her eyes.

“Claire, our ages are irrelevant to me.  What is relevant is the fact that there’s something tangible between us.  You know it and so do I.  I won’t risk it by lying to you, not now, not ever.  Yes, I do want to make love with you but if it doesn’t happen now, I’ll wait, because when we leave Austin in a couple of days, it’s not over between us.  I will see you again, and soon.  I promise you that.  I want time to explore the relationship we’re building here, and we can’t do that fully in a couple of days.  I’m willing to devote as much time as it takes to do that, to be sure that you trust me, trust us together, because I feel closer to you than I think I’ve ever felt to any woman I’ve ever known.  And what we do now – tonight – and the rest of the time we’re here together, is up to you.”  I sat watching the play of emotion over her face and then her hand came up and cupped my jaw.

“Do you think we could get out of here, and go someplace where we can be alone?”  I stood her on her feet and got up, tossing money on the table and took her hand.

“Let’s go.”  As I glanced backward, I saw the server, a confused look on her face, watching us leave.

I drove that time, heading back to Claire’s hotel with my mind going at warp speed.  When we got to her room, I closed the door behind us and she looked at me.  I’d made up my mind.

“Pack your kit.  Will Terri be angry if you aren’t here when she returns?’ 

“Worried, more likely.”

“Leave a note for her at the desk; tell her you’ll see her tomorrow.  You can’t tell her where you’ll be because I don’t know at this point, but it will be somewhere that no one will find us tonight.”  She nodded and got her overnight kit, walked into the bathroom and put her cosmetics, hairbrush, toothbrush, what she’d need until the next day in it as I watched, then followed her back to the bedroom.  She took clothes for the next day from the closet and lay them on the bed, then went to the bureau and got underclothes and something that looked all lacy and girly but that I didn’t move quickly enough to identify and added the lot to her kit, zipped it and tossed it on the bed beside her clothes. 

She walked to the desk and got out an envelope, a sheet of paper and pen and sat down and wrote quickly.  When she’d done, she handed it to me as she put Terri’s name on the envelope.  I read it.

  

“Terri.  I need to be alone for a while.  Not sure where I’m going, but don’t worry about me.  I’ll be back tomorrow.     C.D.”

It was signed with only her initials and I handed it back to her.  She folded it, put it in the envelope, and sealed it.  We left it with the desk clerk on our way out the door.  The next stop was my hotel, and I repeated Claire’s performance, but left my note on Thomas’ bed.  I knew he’d be furious but he’d survive that; he’d been angry with me before and my reasons this time were far better than I’d ever had in the past.  We left my hotel and returned to her car, me driving this time.

“You navigate,” I said, pulling onto the Interstate.  “There has to be a small town close around here with a small motel where I won’t be recognized.”  She nodded and directed me toward Interstate 35 that ran north/south through Austin.

“There’s a railroad town just a bit south of Austin and the local motels cater to transients.  That’s as safe a haven as I can think of at this point.”  I nodded and just drove, following her directions through the late night traffic.  I managed to get through the road construction at the intersection where the Interstate we were on converged with State Highway 183, and headed south.  We didn’t talk because there was no need.  I reached across the console and took her left hand in my right, pulling it to my lips and kissing it before placing it on my thigh and returned my own to the steering wheel.  We were probably half an hour from Austin when my cell phone rang, and I dug it out of my pocket.  I’d meant to turn it off, but had forgotten.  Looked at the display and, of course, it was Thomas.  I didn’t particularly want to talk to him, but hit the talk button anyway.

“Have you lost your fucking mind, Derek?  Is Claire with you?”  He was furious all right.  In fact, furious was probably an understatement.

“To answer your first question, no, I think I’ve finally found it.  Yes to the second, and before you ask the third, I can’t tell you where we’re going because I don’t know.  I’ll see you tomorrow, Mate.”  I disconnected with him still sputtering and turned off the phone.  Claire was reaching into her handbag, apparently with the intention of turning off her phone when it rang.  She looked at the display and back at me …Terri.  With a sigh, she answered it.

“Thomas is with me, Claire, and don’t you fucking dare hang up on me.  Where the Hell are you two?  Have you both gone crazy?”  Claire had connected her phone to the dash feed and turned on the speaker in the car so that I could hear. 

“We’re not crazy, but we do need some time alone to sort out a few things.  Don’t worry about me, Terri.  I’m fine and I’m safe.  Keep Thomas company; I’ll see you sometime tomorrow.”  She disconnected and turned off her phone and looked at me.  Suddenly, we were both laughing like kids on holiday from school having given our parents and teachers the slip. 

“Where are we going?”

“Luling.  It’s about 45 miles south of Austin …has a couple of motels and three restaurants.  Not fancy, but I don’t guess we’re interested in fancy, are we?”  I shook my head.

“Not interested in anything but someplace quiet, someplace we’ll be left alone, someplace I can just hold you.”  I put my hand over hers, which she’d returned to my thigh after turning off her phone.  “That okay with you?”  She nodded.

“Yes.”  Her voice was so soft and she smiled as we drove on in silence.  The traffic was heavy, mainly trucks, but the road was good enough and we pulled into the car park at one of Luling’s two motels in just over 40 minutes; we’d followed the sign on 183 directing us to the Luling Inn.  I cut the engine and Claire started to get out of the car until I stopped her.  I knew she was planning to register for us to keep me from being recognized.  She looked at me and I shook my head.

“Stay here.  I’ll take care of it; I have cash, so there’s no name on a credit card to get anyone’s attention.  I’ll be back in a tic,” and I was out the door and inside the little motel office before she had a chance to protest.  I smiled as I registered.  Mr. and Mrs. Marcus Hamilton, the name I’d used at hospital in Birmingham.  I got the room key and walked out.  The elderly man at the counter had no clue as to who I was and I doubt he’d have cared if he had.  I’d asked for a room on the backside of the motel, away from the street noise, and gotten it.  I got into Claire’s car and pulled round back, looking for room 19.  Found it, parked, and grabbed our kits from the back seat and walked around to get Claire’s door but she was already out of the car.  I clicked the remote door lock on her Jeep and we walked to the door of room 19.  I dropped our grips and unlocked the door, then picked her up and carried her inside, depositing her on the bed before returning to the door for our grips.  Fortunately, before we’d left Claire’s hotel she’d thought to tuck the bottles of bourbon and scotch into her grip because I needed a drink just then.  I suspected she did as well.

I sat on the edge of the bed and reached over to stroke her hair.  It was the first time I’d done that and it was as soft and silky as it looked tumbling over her shoulders.  I’d noted that she ran her fingers through her hair as often as I did my own and now I knew why …to keep it out of her face, as she clearly didn’t use hair lacquer.  I leaned over and kissed her.  Her response was tentative at first, almost shy, and then she opened to my lips and my tongue sought and found hers.  She moved into my arms and then just gave over to it.  I’m not sure which one of us was breathing harder when we finally surfaced for air.  I did know that I really needed a drink then and that I couldn’t kiss her again like that, at least not for a while, unless she was ready to make love with me.  I was in pain and needed to move away from her body for a bit, so I stood and made drinks for us and carried them back to the bed and handed Claire hers as I sat beside her.  She looked at me before she spoke.

“Are you all right, Derek?”  I shook my head at her.

“No, Claire, I’m not.  I can’t keep kissing you like that and do nothing about it.  We need to slow down and talk about this and you need to think about it.  I’m not going to pressure you, Claire, but I won’t lie to you either.  You’re an incredibly desirable woman and much more of kissing you like that, and I’ll have you flat on your back and your clothes off before you know what’s happened.  I’m not sure you’re ready for that just yet.”  I took a deep swallow of my drink and let the bourbon burn its way to my stomach, hoping that Claire realized just how serious I was and praying that she didn’t bolt out the door.  She stayed where she was and took a drink of her scotch before she said anything. 

I couldn’t sit there and look at those eyes and that face without kissing her again, so I stood and walked about the room.  Well, actually, I paced about the room and Claire watched me.

“Derek?”  I stopped and looked at her.  “You might want to stop before you wear a path in the carpet and have to pay for it.”  Soft voice, soft smile, and the tension I’d felt just melted away.  She stood and took off her blazer and hung it in the closet, kicked off her shoes and returned to the bed, patting a place beside her as she sat on it. 

I walked slowly across the room and stood there just looking at her, trying to read her, trying to know what I should do.  It was at that moment that I realized that it wasn’t my call; it had never been my call.  It was Claire’s, and I knew with every fibre of my being that I would do anything she wanted.  It made no matter what it cost me, no matter what it did to my head or my heart or my soul, because she had my life and my heart in her hands.  I realized with dazzling clarity that I really was falling in love with a woman that I’d known barely 24 hours.  I didn’t know what – if anything – Claire Dunbar felt for me, but there was suddenly no doubt in my mind what I felt for her.  I’d finally found what I’d searched for all my life, and something Kelsey had told me years before stood out with startling clarity.

“You’ll know when you find her, Derek.  She’ll not be what you’ve always thought you wanted and you won’t be expecting her.  She’ll come in on your blindside when you least expect her.  Just trust me …you’ll know her when you find her.”

 

Chapter 5

Claire

I’d been fighting it since I woke that morning, that feeling of spiraling out of control, of being in totally over my head and not wanting to change any of it.  For the first time in my life, I wanted to ride the wave until it broke on the shore, even if it crushed me against the rocks.  What was it John Lennon said all those years ago?  “Life is what happens on the way to your plans.”  That certainly fit because real life had suddenly taken a turn that I’d never planned, never imagined, and my carefully constructed world was about to come crashing down about me.  I was terrified and thrilled and knew that I was falling in love with Derek MacMurray …and just how insane was that?

We’d told lies and left the dinner, went looking for a club to listen to music and talk and left that venue before our drinks were served.  We’d returned to my hotel and I’d packed an overnight bag, stopping at Derek’s hotel where he did the same.  We’d left notes for Terri and Thomas to keep them from worrying when they couldn’t locate us.  Before I realized it, we were in a room in a cheap motel in Luling, Texas.  I had given him the directions to get there and Derek was pacing the floor like a caged animal after having kissed me senseless.  He made drinks for both of us and continued his pacing.  I finally told him to stop and asked if he was all right.  His response left no doubt in my mind as to his current state; that was when I made my decision.

I was falling in love with Derek and the idea terrified me.  I realized that I’d probably never really been in love before, not even once, in my entire life.  I also knew that I wanted him in the most basic sense of the word and he’d made it abundantly clear that he wanted me.  I knew the likelihood of our relationship extending beyond these few days was slim and for once in my life, I simply did not care.  If I couldn’t have him for the rest of my life, I could have him now and I would treasure the memory of him forever.  I suppose my feelings were reflective of adage I’d always thought amazingly profound though until today it had been only words …I’d rather regret the things I’ve done, than the things I didn’t do. 

I thought he was telling me the truth.  His eyes, his face, his body language all pointed to truth, but I’d also learned through bitter experience that men are more than capable of playing whatever role is required of them in order to gratify their sexual wants.  And much as I cared for him, and I knew that I did, I also knew Derek MacMurray was probably the best actor alive today.  He’d said he didn’t think I was ready to have sex with him yet, and I’d laughed inwardly.  Men never seem to realize that while they’re dithering about trying to kiss us goodnight, we’ve already decided whether or not we’re going to bed with them and that anything they do until that act is accomplished is foreplay.  Given that I’d realized when I walked in to my hotel room the night before and found him there that I wanted to make love with him, we’d now had about 30 hours of constant foreplay and I was at my limit.  Derek was obviously past his, as evinced by his refusal to touch me further until I’d told him that I wanted him.  That’s when I knew it was going to happen that night, in that bed, in that tiny motel off of Texas Highway 183 in Luling, Texas.

I got off the bed and took off my blazer and hung it away, then kicked off my shoes and returned to the bed and sat, patting it beside me.

“Derek, please …come here.”  He stood there looking at me and took a deep breath before he did as I’d asked.  When he sat beside me, I lay back on the bed and taking his hand, pulled him down with me.  He wouldn’t touch me but lay there propped on his elbow, watching me.  That put the ball firmly in my court.  I reached up and laced the fingers of one hand in his hair at the back of his head and pulled his face down to mine, kissing him.  I could feel the heat running through me as his mouth took mine, kissing me hard before suddenly pulling away again.

“Claire, …are you sure?  I can stop now, but I won’t promise I’ll be able to in another five minutes.  I have to be sure this is what you want.”  I pulled him back down. 

“I’m sure, Derek.  I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”  He pulled me hard into his body then, rolling with his arms around me until he was beneath me and I felt his erection hard against my belly as he kissed me again, more purposeful than before.  His hands were suddenly everywhere, roaming my body and we were tugging shirts from waistbands and struggling with buttons.  I realized he was wearing button-fly jeans and cursed as I struggled with them.  He laughed and stood, making short work of them, pulling off his boots, and slipping out of his jeans before he returned to my clothing and stripped my shirt off me.  He was holding me again, hands moving as if of their own accord and they were followed by his mouth as he planted hot, wet kisses down my neck to my shoulder and on to my breasts.  I pulled away from him and stood long enough to get out of my own jeans and watched as he stripped off his shirt and tossed it away, leaving both of us in our underwear.  As he pulled me back into his arms, his body was so hot and eager that I doubt I could have stopped him then even if I’d wanted to which, admittedly, I didn’t. 

He was beautiful …the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.  He might leave me tomorrow and I’d never see him again, but I would have this night of his passion to remember.  His hands caressed my body and then he swore and sat up, reaching for his jeans and fished in the pocket.  I saw him retrieve a foil packet; he placed it on the table by the bed and I thanked God for his caution; I’d clearly abandoned my own.  I knew I was safe having had sex only with my husband for years, but I appreciated his not being willing to take a risk that neither of us could live with.  He turned back to me and crushed me beneath his weight as his mouth resumed its journey over my body.  He took my nipple in his mouth, sucking through the lace of my bra; his hands stroked me as if I were a large cat, murmuring his pleasure all the while.  I caught my breath as the flame inside me rose higher, and groaned as the arm under me lifted me slightly and he unhooked my bra, easing the straps off my shoulders before tossing it aside.

I’ve never had children, obviously never had the opportunity to breastfeed a child and as a result, my breasts were still firm.  I was absurdly proud when he looked at them and then back into my eyes.

“God, Claire, you’re so beautiful, like a perfectly sculpted statue, only warm and alive.”  His mouth returned to my breasts, taking one nipple and then the other into his mouth, sucking greedily as our mutual desire grew.  He was so hard by then that the pressure of his erection pressing into my pubic bone was actually painful.  I knew he couldn’t wait much longer, nor could I and didn’t want to.  My hands moved to the waistband of his underwear, slipping beneath it and sliding them down over his hips.  He stopped and braced himself on his arms as he looked down at me, eyes glittering in the soft light and hooded in passion.

“You’re completely sure?  No reservations?”

“None, and I want you.  Now!”  He slipped the rest of the way out of his underwear, then slipped his fingers into the top of my panties and slipped them down and over my feet, tossing them in the general direction of his own.  He tugged me to my feet and off the bed, then grabbed the bedspread and jerked it down and away, and pulled me down with him onto the cool sheets. 

It was the first opportunity I’d had to really touch him, to feel the full heat of his body and arousal and my hands flew over his body, finally capturing his erect phallus in one hand and stroking him from tip to base.  His head went back into the pillow and he groaned.

“God, Claire ….”  It was my turn to learn his body and I started with his mouth, kissing him, and moving down his jaw to his neck and chest.  I licked around one nipple and then sucked it softly before moving to the other one as his hips began to rock against me.  One of his hands went back to grip the headboard of the bed and when it did, I moved to his armpit, nuzzling there in the downy hair like a cat burrowing in for a nap.  I inhaled the musky, masculine odor of his body, savoring it before moving down his belly, licking and nipping the skin there before I moved on to his legs, parting his knees and kissing up the inside of one thigh as I watched his cock twitch in anticipation.  I caressed his heavy sac, the center of his appalling masculinity, and then buried my face in his groin, smelling the heavy male scent of his arousal as he groaned again and called my name.

“Claire, if you don’t stop, I ….”  I shushed him and moved slightly upward, taking what I could of his length into my mouth, pressing against the underside of his cock with my tongue, and sucking hard.

“Jesus fucking Christ!”  His cry was harsh, almost painful and I felt his hands in my hair, pulling me back up his body.  “No, not like this, not the first time.  I want to cum inside of you, Claire,” and he rolled me onto my back, reaching blindly for the condom packet, tearing it open with his teeth and putting it on quickly before his hands gently spread my knees apart and he moved between them.

“Are you sure,” asking again and I fought the urge to slap him, in spite of his concern and consideration.  Didn’t he know how ready I was or had he been with so many women who played games that he wasn’t sure?  My answer was to take his rigid cock and guide him toward my opening.  He moved my hand away and replaced it with his own, stroking up and down my wetness, then plundering my mouth with his kiss as he entered me gently. 

He was huge, filling me completely, stretching me as no man had before and I realized that this was going to be better than any love I’d ever made.  He was still for a few moments, waiting for me adjust to his girth, and then began to move slowly, bracing himself above me with his arms, looking down into my eyes.  His pace began to increase and I moved to meet his thrusts, my hands on his shoulders, striving for the fulfillment that I knew would come.  I saw the beads of sweat form on his forehead as he leaned down to kiss me softly, and watched the muscle cords stand out in his neck and shoulders and in his arms as he groaned again.

“Baby, I can’t last much longer …wanted to make it last for you ….”  He needn’t have worried because my first orgasm hit me then, and I shuddered as it rocked through me, the second starting to build as he thrust even harder, seeming to touch my very soul.  I was aware of his body’s sudden tensing and then his final hard thrust as I felt him shiver deep inside me followed by the aftershocks of his orgasm.  I pulled his head down to my breast and held him there, completely fulfilled and at peace for the first time in my life.  I felt him shudder and relax as the tension left him; he raised his head to kiss me softly before returning his head to my breast, sighing deeply.  I heard the soft rumble of his voice as he spoke against my breast.

“I didn’t know ….” 

Nor had I. 

We lay in each other’s arms, not speaking, because there was nothing to say.  What we hadn’t found the words to say with our lips had been said with our bodies and I felt dampness on my skin that wasn’t from his sweat.  It was his tears and I felt my own slip from my eyes, streaking back into my hair and held him even closer.

We spent the rest of that night alternately talking and making love.  The following morning we carved out three days for ourselves, away from the rest of the world and stayed in that small motel room, leaving only to eat and even then only when we were getting faint from hunger.  He called Thomas and told him he would be back in Austin on Friday; Thomas would tell Terri that I would return at the same time.  I called my husband and said I wouldn’t be home until late Friday, that I wanted more time with my friends.  He didn’t object; his schedule kept him so busy that I knew he would scarcely miss me.  We’d turned off our cell phones again, not wanting the intrusion of the world into this space of time that we’d stolen for ourselves.

During those three days we realized we had each been given an incredible gift in the other, the gift of being in love and having it returned and explored that wonder that many never find.  It was a first experience for both of us and that made it all the more incredible.  How we were going to manage our love while on separate continents, we didn’t yet know; we only trusted that, somehow, we would.  It was a given that my marriage was now formally over; in reality, it had been over for years.  We sorted out plans insofar as was possible, given the horribly brief amount of time we had together then.  He would return to Australia and tell his family what had happened …who I was, where I lived, what I did, everything that he knew about me, and that we planned to marry as soon as possible.  I would go back to Dallas and tell my husband I was leaving him, that I had met someone else.  No further explanations, no name, no details, only that I was leaving him.  I would tell no one else, not even Terri.  Her questions about my missing three days would go unanswered, even if it cost me her friendship.  Derek and I would be in touch daily by phone or e-mail or both and when my divorce was final, I would meet him in Australia or wherever he happened to be at that point in time.  He would come through Texas to spend time with me on his way to California in March for Awards season and his promotional tour, two months from now.  We agreed that to prevent embarrassing my husband, we would not been seen together publicly until my divorce was a fait accompli. 

On Friday morning, I drove Derek and Thomas to the airport.  Thomas boarded immediately but Derek stayed with me in the private lounge until the last possible moment.  Standing there, holding each other as closely as was possible, trying to store up enough memories to last until we saw each other again …at least two months and how long after that, we didn’t know.  I was trembling as I clung to him, praying that his feelings for me wouldn’t diminish in that time, that he would only love me and long for me all the more for the absence.

He held my face in his hands and kissed me one last time before he spoke.

“You do know how much I love you, how deeply in love with you I am?  That this won’t change, that time and distance don’t matter?  That they are only doors we have to walk through to reach the other side?”  I saw the shine of tears in his eyes, his heart in his eyes and on his face, and nodded.

“And I love you, I’m more in love with you than I could ever dreamed was possible,” and burrowed back into his arms for the last time before we had to part.  We stood looking at each other.

“I’ll be back for you, Claire.  Wait for me.”  It was a promise, an affirmation.  He kissed me on the forehead, then turned and walked down the jet way, not stopping until he reached the door to the plane and turned and looked back at me.  A kiss blown and a last wave, and he disappeared from my sight.  I turned, nearly blind through my tears as I stumbled to the window to watch his plane taxi and take off, watching the small jet take wing as it soared toward the Heavens until it finally disappearing into the brilliantly blue sky.

How long would it be before I held him in my arms again?

 

The End?

 

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