Jennifer Greene - Ain’t Misbehaving

In time, she turned on her side, and a very long time later he finally heard her restless tossing turn into a restless sleep.

He stayed on his back and closed his eyes. He knew that she’d wanted to talk further, but he’d already heard the only thing that mattered. Being his first had been special for her, but she didn’t want him confusing that with something lasting. Now it all made sense; he knew why she’d pulled back the minute he’d mentioned marriage. More talk wasn’t necessary. Kay would only try to be gentle on the letdown.

He didn’t want her gentleness. If he couldn’t have her love, he simply wanted to extricate them both from the relationship as rapidly and painlessly as possible. For her, and for him.

She lay only inches from him. And yet miles distant. In the middle of the night, she kicked off the covers, and he firmly tucked them back around her.

Once he got up to add more wood to the fire.

At dawn, he had their things packed to return home. A fierce ache racked through his bones, like the loneliness of the north wind seeping through his soul. All the physical pains he’d suffered in his life were nothing next to this. He’d fought so hard for life, only to discover that it meant nothing without Kay.

Kay sprayed some perfume on her wrists, smoothed down the silver jersey tunic and stared glumly at the mirror. She couldn’t have been less in the mood for a New Year’s Eve party.

She was dressed to seduce the world, which didn’t help. The silver top was slinky and low-necked, and she wore it pneumonia-style-braless. Since she never went braless, she’d hoped that naughty feeling would transform a mood gone dismal; it wasn’t working. The eye makeup wasn’t working either. Or the perfume. The silver skirt should have at least given her some self-confidence; it hugged her hips and showed off her legs, but unfortunately she really didn’t give a damn.

The doorbell rang. She refrained from jumping a foot and a half, managing to walk to the door with reasonable sedateness.

“You’re early,” she remarked with a deliberately light tone and a smile as Mitch stepped inside.

“Only by a few minutes.”

She hesitated. “Mitch, this really isn’t necessary. You don’t have to follow through with this, just because we’d already agreed to go…” She devoured him with her eyes. He looked utterly devastating in his dark suit and red shirt, his hair brushed back and his eyes as cool as arctic ice.

“I said we’d go, and we will. You could hardly find someone else to go with at this late date.” He devoured her with his eyes, furious she was going out in public without a bra, entranced at the line of her hip as she bent over to pick up her coat.

“I could have gone alone.”

“And had explanations to make. Forget it, Kay. It’s nothing. You can go your own way when you get there and I’ll go mine.”

“Fine.” She spit out the word with a lethally polite smile. “That sounds wonderful. Exactly what I had in mind.”

“Good.” He stopped himself from yelling at her for not buttoning up her coat. If she wanted to expose her entire chest to the icy wind, that was her business.

He felt used, and he wasn’t likely to forget it. He hoped she’d enjoyed being someone’s first. He ushered her out to the car, opened the door, refrained with exacting precision from touching her and slammed the door in her ear.

Kay winced, crossed her legs nervously, arranged the purse on her lap and tried hard not to let her teeth chatter in the frigid air until Mitch could get the heater going. Chattering teeth would be a hint of weakness, of human feeling. She had no human feeling for Mitch. She felt used, and she wasn’t likely to forget it. The instant she’d brought up the subject at the cabin, he’d whipped out of the relationship like a man set free. He just hadn’t thought about it like that before, he’d said; maybe not, but as soon as she’d pointed out that first didn’t have to be last, he’d all too quickly agreed. He hadn’t been able to take her home fast enough the next morning. She’d been the first notch in his belt; she had no doubt there’d be thousands of others after her.

The heat hadn’t begun to work by the time Mitch had driven five doors down the street and parked the car again. They could have walked, Kay thought wryly. A car rolled up behind them, and they would unfortunately be pinned in. Mitch didn’t seem to notice.

“Listen, Mitch…” she said as he opened the car door. She glanced up at him, to see those frigid dark eyes glaring at her. Still, she tried. He wasn’t likely to know many people at Stix’s party; it was sort of an old friends’ reunion from high school. Why Mitch had insisted on keeping the date…but Mitch was stubborn like that. “Look, I’m sure you really don’t want to be here. I’m not in a mood for a party myself, and it’s not like-”

“I am very definitely in a mood for a party,” he corrected.

Well, maybe he was. After all, it was an opportunity to meet a lot of women, Kay thought bitterly.

Noise and smoke rolled out the door as Mitch opened it. Stix, five inches taller than anyone else, immediately spotted them and bore down as if he’d been waiting just for the two of them to show up. Kay was treated to a bear hug that lingered and a strangely glassy-eyed stare with a hint of sadness. Before she could make sense of that, Stix was swinging a hand in Mitch’s direction. “You damn well better take care of my best girl, hear?”

Obviously, Stix had already had his share of holiday spirits. Kay extricated herself from his abundant affection and glanced around hopelessly at the milling crowd. Dancers had rolled up the rug in the dining room and were gyrating to a primeval beat. The noise level precluded conversation, and most faces were flushed. Most faces were also at least somewhat familiar, more Stix’s crowd than hers, but certainly not strange.

She glanced back at Mitch uncertainly, to find that unreadable stare of his settling in on a roaming blonde. His suit jacket had disappeared with his topcoat, and Stix had pushed a drink into his hand before dissolving into the crowd. Mitch’s eyes darted only momentarily back to hers. “Feel free to have a good time…” He motioned to the crowd.

Hurt pulsed through her for a second and a half, but she had enough pride to stiffen her spine. The roaming blonde cast Mitch another sideways look, and Kay stepped forward. If he wanted a few more notches in his belt, she was about to introduce him to the best notch carver in Moscow. Stephanie had been the busiest girl in high school; on successive Friday nights she’d worked her way through the entire roster of senior class boys. Some ten years later, in a white silk jumpsuit without a damn thing underneath it, she was clearly still ripe and ready.

“Stephanie!” Kay said delightedly.

Grabbing Mitch’s hand, she ignored his startled jolt, and beamed at the sultry blonde. “I haven’t seen you in so long,” she said vibrantly to the other woman. “This is Mitch Cochran. Mitch, Stephanie is one of my oldest…friends…”

Now, she hadn’t meant to hesitate on the word. Neither seemed to notice. Mitch’s eyes were riveted on the pair of nipples poking out of white silk; Stephanie thrust them forward, and Kay catapulted to the bar for a drink.

A grinning man behind the bar served her something or other. She took a sip, and grimaced. Rum. There was probably something more terrible tasting than rum, but she didn’t know what it was.

Roger caught sight of her and dragged her to the floor for a dance. Roger was nice-looking and bearded and soft-eyed, and she’d known him for years. The song was an old Michael Jackson number; no one could resist the primitive rhythm, and Roger could swing his pelvis like a reincarnation of Elvis. Unfortunately, the only thing Kay was in the mood to beat was Stephanie.