The contractors had done a pretty good job moving the door, I thought. Billy strode through it as though it had always been in its new place, stepped to the hot tub, and dumped me into it. I rose, dripping, to my feet and scowled at him while he laughed, hands on his hips fetchingly. Despite myself, I was fetched.

Deb:  What the hell's so funny?

Billy:  You.  Y'look like a drowned rat, woman.  But I never saw a damn old
rat with a rack on her like that.

Deb:  Right.  What a tribute.  But I guess we're even.  You took a nosedive
in and did a Stan Laurel imitation.  I laughed.  You threw me in before I
could stop you, and now you're laughing.  What do you want to do now?

Billy:  Heat that puppy up.

Billy was skinning himself out of his jeans, muscles flexing smoothly
under his skin.  He had already peeled off his t-shirt and tossed the 
bandanna and the aviators on top of it.  My mouth went dry, and though I
tried to maintain control, he knew.  Damn him, he knew.

Billy:  You wet, or is it just that kiddiepool?

Deb:  Shut up, Strannix...shut up and get in here.

Billy:  You gotta remember who's got their foot on the gas around here,
quit tryin' t'order me around.  I'll get in when I'm ready.

Deb:  You look pretty ready to me.

Billy:  That bad boy don't know ready.  He'll keep.

Billy turned and strode gracefully away into the house.  He returned
shortly with a bottle of champagne and one glass.  I thought about asking
him why he just didn't use a straw.  At that moment, Billy reminded me of
a great cat, lazy and powerful and very dangerous, but beautiful enough
to make it worth the risk of injury to be closer to him.  I raised my
hands to the top button of my blouse.

Billy:  No.  My way's quicker.

Deb:  Oh, no you don't.  You've already ripped up most of my stuff and I 
can't afford to replace any of it.

Billy:  You got a better way?  Fine.  Get on outa there.

Billy hauled me up out of the tub and left me standing on the patio.  He
lowered himself into the tub, poured a glass of champagne and set it down,
then took a huge hit off the bottle.

Deb:  Billy?

Billy:  Strip.  Get them rags off.  I don't care how.

Deb:  I've never even done that for you!

Billy:  First time for everything.  Get that shit off and get in here.

I must have stood a second or two too long to suit him.  He leaned
toward me.

Billy:  Make me wait too much longer I'm comin' t'getcha.

I ended up pulling my blouse over my head.  Everything else was a little
bit easier.  Shivering with anticipation now, I lowered myself into his
arms, tangled my fingers in his long hair.  He pushed me hard up against
the side of the tub, knee jammed tightly into the saddle of my hips and
providing an exquisite source of irritation.  I rocked against it.  I felt
as well as heard him laughing softly and decided to ignore it.

I concentrated on the feel of his lips and teeth pulling at my neck and I
held his head against my throat.  The breath was tearing in and out of my
lungs.  With one hand, Billy reached down under water and pulled my 
thighs wide apart, fitting himself neatly between them and pushing strongly
forward.  What I wanted must have been pretty obvious.  I held onto 
his shoulders, meeting his movements halfway and with as much strength as 
he showed.  Water splashed out of the tub.  Billy kept on and took me with
him, endlessly strong, completely in charge.  I faltered eventually,
utterly spent, fell back against the side of the hot tub.  My hands lay
flat on his chest.  I felt like I had to keep touching him.  He took my 
hands in his, pulled them up and around his neck then twisted around and sat
me on his lap.  I sagged against him and he supported me while I caught
my breath.  Finally he handed me the glass of champagne and encouraged
me to drain it, before he carried me inside and put me to bed.

TO BE CONTINUED...

This page hosted by Get your own Free Home Page