Elizabeth Stewart - Harm’s Way

Fire screamed through her blood, pounding in her ears, making her gasp for breath. Her fingers clenched around the pillow as she streaked skyward, small moans and meaningless sounds escaping her.

Behind her, she felt his strokes quicken, his hands digging into her cheeks, growls and moans as the first shudders of climax bubbled up.

It tore through her, liquid fire shooting up from him like exploding lava, shaking her physical body and trembling the foundations of her very self. She hung for eternal glorious moments in a web of pure, crystal pleasure like a sunlit dewdrop on a silken spider’s web. Her writer’s mind was suddenly devoid of words to describe this wonder.

A few more hearty bangs against her ass and he stopped, sagging against her, his hot, ragged breath and soft lips on the flesh of her back.

“God,” he sighed, between shallow pants, “you are the best lover a man could ever have. I just hope you don’t kill me before Labor Day.” He pulled out and dropped beside her, curling her in his embrace.

“Oh no,” she assured him with a kiss, “I have no intention of letting anything happen to you before Labor Day.”

“We need to get up,” Elgin sighed, not moving or even opening her eyes.

“I’ve already been up,” Harm replied wryly, “although if you play your cards right, I might manage to get up at least once more.”

“I meant out of bed.”

“Okay. How ‘bout the deck? Or the rug in front of the fireplace? Maybe the kitchen counter?”

She sighed again. “In case you’ve forgotten, today is the Fourth of July. Spirit Cove party’s all day, then we’re invited to Marty’s for a barbecue and then out on ‘The Monkey’ for the fireworks.”

“I have a better idea,” he answered, taking her in his arms. “Why don’t we stay home and make our own fireworks?”

“You’re not only a satyr,” she pretended to grumble, “but a poop as well. I don’t know which is worse.”

“Poop?” he declared, his eyes popping open. “What do you mean, ‘poop’?”

“I mean you. You’re nothing but a great big old party poop.”

“You didn’t seem to mind my great big old party favor just a while ago. Or were you faking those screams?”

“Ohhh, I can assure you, the screams were absolutely, positively, one hundred percent authentic. You do nice work.”

“I’m glad you approve,” he beamed at her, “but it’s the inspiration. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Even Jeanne.” Harm gazed into her face, his eyes filled with pain, searching it seemed for something. For a fleeting instant, he held her, his lips moving as if he intended to say something.

Please dear God , she thought anxiously, please let him say the words.

“You’re right,” he told her finally, “I guess we should get up. I’ve never seen a real, old-fashioned, small-town Fourth.”

As he turned his back and moved to the other side of the bed, Elgin released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. The moment had come and gone and he hadn’t told her what she wanted so much to hear.

Putting her feet on the floor, her chest tight, her heart a rock, she knew now that the words would never come. That he’d told her what she needed to know with his silence.

Well, she had until Labor Day and she meant to hang on to every moment like it might be the last.

“Holy shit!”

Elgin giggled as the SUV rounded the last curve of the long circular driveway and pulled up in front of Marty’s house. Immediately, two young men in bright red vests opened their doors.

“Valet parking?” Harm’s voice brimmed with amazement.

“As you may have noticed,” she laughed, taking his arm and starting up the wide granite steps, “Marty likes to do things in big way.”

“I’ve noticed. First that sea-going yacht and now this steroid-enhanced Adirondack hunting lodge. What does he do for an encore? Stage moose hunts in the parlor?”

She laughed again as they reached veranda and stopped so he could gawk. Two solid panels of glass rose in graceful triangles three stories high, bisected by a wall of some dark, rich wood that ran up to the peak of the blue shale roof, supporting both the glass and making a place for two massive doors. The same color as the wood, they were unadorned save for huge gold door handles and the enormous lion’s head knocker. They stood wide open to the warm late afternoon air, the hum of conversation mixing with laughter and the clink of ice in glasses floating out to greet them.

Slowly, they threaded their way through the crowd of people that began in the huge foyer and stretched unbroken down the long, high-ceilinged main hall, into the cavernous living room and spilled through the wall of glass doors out onto the deck which ran the length of the house and out for at least thirty feet.

Harm had thought the view from their deck grand. This was nothing short of breathtaking, more than one hundred eighty degrees of lake, mountains, pine forests and sky. Across the water, almost to the horizon, he could just make out the dots of the West Shore casinos.

“Champagne?” asked a liveried waiter juggling a large silver tray of long stemmed crystal flutes.

“Uh, no, thank you,” Elgin smiled.

“No thanks,” Harm added.

“Well, if you’d like something else, the bar is in the living room by the fireplace.” He smiled and moved away.

“Listen, I’m gonna fight my way through this mob and see if I can snag a beer. No sense both of us getting trampled. Find someplace out here to sit and I’ll bring you a hard cola. If I’m not back in fifteen minutes, send up a flare or get the bloodhounds.” He gave her a quick kiss. “And for God’s sake, try not to wander off.”

“Promise.”

She watched him melt back into the crowd and then turned toward the railing, hoping to find a place for them to sit and watch the sunset with a modicum of quiet and privacy. A few moments later, she came upon an empty glider off to the side. Most of the throng milled around the industrial barbecue set up on the other side of the deck, watching two men in jeans and cowboy shirts turn ribs, steaks and burgers on giant grills that looked like fifty gallon oil drums cut in half and laid on their sides.

“Hello.”

Glancing up with a start, Elgin found Chad standing in front of her.

“Hello,” she answered as he sat down, causing the glider to rock slightly.

“It’s good to see you,” he smiled, his eyes scanning her up and down. “You look terrific. The tan becomes you and I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you in a dress. The bright red goes with your dark features.”

Elgin felt herself blush, embarrassed as much by his presence as by his compliments.

“Thank you. It’s good to see you, too.”

“I stopped by a couple of times to check on you…do some sketching down at the beach and see if you were free for dinner but I haven’t seen much of you and when I noticed you’d installed the motion sensor and the bell…well…”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, putting her fingers lightly on his arm. “It’s just that…I mean…”

Chad patted her fingers, feeling a tingle down his spine as he did so. “It’s all right, really. If you’ll remember, I asked only if you were…free. Judging by the look on your face, you’re obviously not. While I’m disappointed and more than a little jealous, I understand completely and I’m very happy. I suppose there’s no chance?”

She grinned and shook her head.

“Well,” he sighed in resignation, “you can’t hang a guy for trying. But I do want to drop by and give you the oil I promised. Sunset off your deck.”

“Oh no, Chad, that’s not necessary.”