Lass Small - My House Or Yours?

“I love you.”

That ticked her off. “You really irritate me. No wonder I left you. How could you possibly—”

She stopped speaking as the elevator came to a quiet stop. The doors slid open silently. The hall’s carpet was discreet and elegant. It was nicely insulated and therefore silent.

On the wall opposite the elevator, they saw the numbers that indicated they were to go to the left. The room was right there. That’s why it was still available. It was next to the elevator shaft.

Guests would gather by the elevator and talk. Their voices would be heard in the room. Baggage carts were rolled from the elevator. They too would be heard, even though it was a discreet hotel. So the rooms closest to the elevator were used only in necessity.

Jo got out her key card and put it into the door’s lock. She was immediately aware her action startled Chad. He had always opened the doors. She’d usurped his move.

He kept her from entering by dropping his luggage in the hall. One bag clunked heavily. And he bent and picked her up!

“What—?”

He explained casually, “We’re going to sleep together. I always carry women into hotel rooms when I intend on sleeping with them.”

She gasped indignantly. “Just how many—”

But he kissed her quite skillfully and set the maulable mass that was Josephine Morris over out of the way. He then retrieved his abandoned luggage with perfect coordination.

How had he managed to be functional after that kiss?

How vulgar he was. He had to be very easy with the act of seduction—the preliminaries and the actual act. He planned to…sleep…with her. And he always kissed the women he slept with in hotel rooms.

She inquired with casual coolness, “What’s your score total so far?”

“I’ll check it out and let you know. The figures aren’t at my fingertips this minute. I’ll have to consult my computer files.”

That sobered her considerably. Chad hadn’t missed her at all. He’d been keeping statistics on other women, all of whom he’d carried through hotel room doors and seduced on the beds there.

Jo was crushed. No wonder he’d never contacted her. He hadn’t had the time to remember her. How had he even remembered who she was at the airport? He must have caught a glimpse of her and known he’d seen her…somewhere.

Think of having to sort through a wheatfield of women to discover which one she’d been!

He’d probably had to go to the airport’s computer base to contact his home computer bank and search out which one she was.

She said, “If you’ve been traveling much, you must be exhausted.”

Chad replied leisurely, “I’m rested up. The seminar was only men and they didn’t even mention sex.”

“So you’re ravenous, and you saw me and remembered me?”

“I assumed I’d had you somewhere along the way, and therefore I was cautious until I validated who you actually are.” He watched her with his eyes halfclosed. “How many men have you driven wild since you last did that with me?”

She gasped like a virgin accused of dropping a swimsuit shoulder strap.

She moved inside her body in various ways. She was indignant. She moved her lips and she finally said, “Baloney!” And with the word, she could have just died of embarrassment. She might just as well have said, Golly! or something else equally juvenile.

She grabbed up her bag and started for the door.

He caught her arm. “Don’t be such a chicken.” His voice was so soft, so husky and sweet. His eyes were earnest; his big hand was gentle. He looked soberly into her eyes. She saw as the depths warmed and his crinkles deepened. He had the best mouth.

Since her eyes went to his mouth, he needed to show her why people have mouths, and he kissed her a completely unfair, remarkably sweet, loving kiss. He was really, really good. He really kissed her.

He did.

As he lifted his mouth with all those marvelous little sounds in that silent room, she raised weighty eyelids to look up at him. With some effort she coordinated her vocal cords as her kiss-swollen lips said, “Let’s go swim.”

He regarded her soberly for some time, then his smile started and his eyes twinkled. He replied, “Right.”

He went down to the hotel necessity shop, which sold all sorts of important things like condoms and swimsuits and candy and flowers. They didn’t miss a trick.

Jo was in the pool when Chad came out in his swim trunks. He looked like an American Greek god. He was actually Dutch and Welsh with a touch of Irish thrown in.

He dived into the pool effortlessly and his strokes were lazy and strong. He came to her and said, “Take a breath.”

She remembered that, and she vigorously backpedaled away from him. He laughed and swam, following her so easily. He was so at home in the water.

A surprising number of people don’t believe in swimming in the winter. Pools are generally closed. Yankees are unpredictable. The weather in TEXAS was so nice that it seemed like a Yankee summer day. The two paying guests played together like otters. They lifted themselves from the pool and went down the slide and they used the pool.

Underwater, he touched her here and there. He lifted her and threw her and made her laugh. Men’s muscles are just different. Their strength is awesome. He had no trouble following her in the water, turning her, lifting her. It was easy for him.

He laughed as she splashed him and wiggled and slid away. He could have held her, but if he had, he might have hurt her. He was stronger and had to be careful.

He finally captured her and took her under the water to kiss her.

In all that while, he gave her his entire attention.

How unkind of him.

It was like the time of their courtship, all those years ago, when she was new on campus and he was an assistant professor. But she became his wife. She was a woman of principles and would not go to bed with him without being married to him.

Since she had been married to one of the teaching staff, her schooling was free. She graduated with a degree in business and had taken her masters in business.

When she left him, he had asked if she didn’t want to stay on a little longer and earn her doctorate also. He hadn’t felt she’d used him. He was practical.

She hadn’t used Chad to get her education. It had been boredom that had urged her to take classes. She hadn’t gotten pregnant, although they’d used no barriers. Each month had been a disappointment, another failure, before she’d sadly accepted that she was barren.

While she had had his sexual attention, she hadn’t had his companionship. She’d been so lonely. She’d wanted his attention. He wasn’t around. He would never be around. Eventually, she had understood that and she had left.

So almost four years after their divorce, Jo played as she’d dreamed of playing with Chad all those years ago. At eighteen, at twenty, but at twenty-two the hope had dimmed. During the time she’d been working on her masters, she knew their marriage was doomed.

No miracle happened.

By then, she had faced reality. Her time with Chad would never be any different than it was then.

Looking at Chad soberly, she decided that she might just as well have one last fling with him. Their marriage was water lost over the dam. Why not enjoy the last of the trickle of her time with him? So she laughed, and flung herself into the water and allowed him to chase her.

Their time then was as she’d always thought their marriage could be.

And he took her back to their room. She was breathless from swimming, or something, and she was shy.

“How many men have you had by now?” Chad teased Jo as he dried his hair with a big towel. His eyes were confident. He asked, “Do you have notches on your bedposts?” He paused. “Add notches for these days with me.” Then his voice was smokily gruff as he told her, “Put my marks on top of the others.”