Blaze

The sketches were FedExed to the publisher by the next Friday. They weren't the final product; it would take weeks more for Holly to do the sketches in pen and ink and add watercolor. But it was a huge step in completing the project, one that she was glad to be done with.

David's emotional retreat from her had begun that day in the art room. She sensed his reluctance in even working with her and it hurt that he had no reason for suddenly being unavailable. She tried to remind herself that she'd known all along what kind of man he was, taking care of himself first and others second, but it didn't seem to matter. All that mattered, really, was her desire to be with him again, to feel his arms around her and his mouth on hers.

Angrily she had to admit he'd ruined her for any other man.

So when he appeared suddenly at her door on a Saturday afternoon, she was a bit overwhelmed, almost to the point of tears, to see him.

"David!" she cried, throwing her arms around his neck.

He chuckled softly. "Wow. I should come here more often."

She stood back to look at him. "How are you?"

"Good. I just came from the plant nursery so I may have some dirt on me."

"Come in. Are you thirsty?"

"A little."

"I have some water. Juice. Milk. Lemonade."

"Water is fine."

He followed her into the kitchen, smelling of plants and sunshine.

"What did you get at the plant nursery?" she asked, using the dispenser on the refrigerator to fill a glass with ice and cold water.

"Some stuff for my old man. I'm helping him put in a pond. I'm not sure why he needs a pond, but I'm helping him with it."

"I'm sure it'll be pretty."

He took a long drink from the glass of water. "Anyway, they had these perennials on sale and I got you some. If you want them, that is."

"For me? Sure. Where are they?"

"In my truck. If you show me where you want them, I'll put them in. I have some extra potting soil as well."

She walked outside with him, wincing at the heat. It had to be over a hundred degrees. In the bed of his truck were sacks of sand, black liner, rocks, gravel, tubing. All of that was for the pond. There were also dozens of pretty mums in yellow and red. Holly got the flats of perennials while David tossed down a several bags of potting soil. He had a new shovel with him as well and he walked over to the two empty beds that she kept weeded but were devoid of flowers.

Wordlessly he went to work, making breaking up the hard soil look easy. Then he added in the potting soil, working it down into the mix. Holly squeezed the little plants out of their flats and passed them to David to plant. Having landscaped his own yard, he went about the planting with a trained eye. There were a number of things he excelled at and knowing where and how to plant was among them.

In a matter of half-an-hour, her sad front yard was transformed.

"I feel like I owe you dinner," she said while he watered the flowers.

"That works for me," he said. "Want to go to Konstantine's?"

"Sure. I'll need to clean up a bit."

"I have a better plan. Grab your suit and come over for a swim. Then we'll go. Or order in, which ever you prefer."

Holly wheeled around and hurried to get her suit. She moved with eager anticipation. Everything within her recalled the night of sensual delight she had spent with him. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't deny she was hoping for more.

David was still cleaning up the rubbish from the planting when she stepped out. He'd already rolled up the hose, and the ground smelled warm and wet from the water and dirt. She stood for a long while admiring the flowers. When he was done, David brushed his hands off on his shorts and walked over to his truck to open her door. She smiled at his chivalry and got in. He gave her a look—a warm, appreciative look—before closing the door. Holly curled her toes. Her ardor for him was already flaring.

The drive to his house was no more than five minutes. Once there, it was just a matter of getting in the front door. Holly stepped in first and waited while he set down his keys and wallet and peeled off his wristwatch. With his hand on her back, he guided her to the bedroom to change. Apparently the daylight necessitated the wearing of swimsuits. She was sure he had his reasons and suspected he'd caught peepers spying over his fence. Not that she could have blamed anyone.

She hadn't seen him in his Speedos since that day she'd sketched him on the patio. Now, glimpsing him, she wished she had her sketch pad. He stood at the open French doors rubbing in oil while she put on her suit. She was relieved he wasn't standing next to her when she slipped off her panties. The telltale patch of moisture on the gusset made her blush, and she folded them tightly and hid them inside her folded shorts.

The water felt remarkably cool compared to the heat. As before, Holly only half-heartedly swam, while David made an exercise out of it. She found it remarkable that he could move his big body so effortlessly through the water. Eventually she sat down on the steps leading out of the pool to the patio and leaned back on her elbows, her face tipped to the sun.

He was not in a playful mood today but rather brooding and serious. She wondered if his dark mood had something to do with his father. It occurred to her almost by accident that he'd turned to her out of need. He was troubled by having to deal with his father, and in Holly he found acceptance. She gave up her own insecurities then and there and made up her mind to let the evening unfold in whatever way was most natural and unforced.

Eventually David joined her at the steps. "I have sunscreen," he said, noting her white shin.

"I don't usually burn."

He nodded and settled back beside her. "I'm sorry I've been distant, Holly. In case you haven't noticed, I can be a moody son of a bitch."

"I wouldn't say that, David."

"I would," he said almost savagely. He had a look in his face that startled her.

"David, what's wrong?" she asked with sincere concern.

He shook his head. "I'm not what I want to be for you. It bothers me."

"What do you mean? What do you want to be for me?"

He looked about him, searching for the word. "Disciplined."

Holly chuckled. "Why would you want to go do something like that? I like you the way you are."

"Do you? I'm not sure you'd feel that way if you knew what I'd been up to lately."

She looked into his eyes. So. There it was. His confession didn't surprise her. In fact, she found it rather admirable that he'd confided the truth to her.

"David, I'm not your wife and I'm not your mother. I'm not here to judge you about what you do when you're not with me."

"Other people have said that to me, then they've changed their minds."

"It's only because they want you for themselves. They don't want to have to share you. Can you blame them?"

His dark eyes roamed over her face. "I know I don't want to share you. I hate the thought of you being with someone else, but then I go and do it myself and feel like a hypocrite."

"I don't want to be with anyone else," she said quietly.

He looked at her with profound agony. "Holly, I was with Byron this past week. He and I have a history that goes back pretty far. He...he tried to sketch me once, the way you did. But unlike you, he...."

David left the rest of the sentence unfinished. Yes, she could well understand what had happened between them. It made sense.

"Holly, there's no sodomy involved," he began.

She quickly put up her hands. "David, I don't want to know about your other relationships."

"But it's important that you do know."

"No. It doesn't concern me," she said firmly.

"It does concern you," he retorted.

"How? I don't want to be involved."

"Holly, I want you to sketch us," he blurted. "Together. Me and Byron."

She stared at him, not believing her ears. Her first instinct was to hate him for wanting to bring her into something she didn't want to even imagine. But as the thought of it gelled in her brain, an unfamiliar longing stirred within her.

Though she would never have admitted it to David, some part of her was aroused by the knowledge that he was bisexual. All those years ago in New York, she'd first been repelled by the idea of him sharing his body with other men. The change in her thinking had really begun with Sam, with his narrow view of sexuality and his own homophobia. She'd felt so stifled by his rigid lovemaking and angry at the way he'd condemned everyone who didn't practice sex exactly as he did. She remembered thinking how lucky other people were to be able to experiment, to branch out a little, to expand their horizons. She'd begun to envy people she knew to be promiscuous.

But when it came to David's request, she was torn. The image of him with Byron didn't trouble her. But the thought of being in the same room with them, trying to sketch them as they engaged in sex...it seemed beyond her ability. Perhaps if she and David hadn't already been sexually intimate it would have been possible.

"I've gone too far," David said with finality. He shook his head at himself. "I always do. It seems to be in my nature to push the limits."

"I just don't think I can do it, David," she said honestly. "I mean, just now, thinking about trying to sketch the two of you together...." She shook her head. "I'm completely turned on. I think I would lose it."

He stared, dumbstruck. "You're turned on?" he asked incredulously. "You're not disgusted or pissed or something like that?"

"No." Her gaze swept over his beautiful body. "No, I'm not angry. I simply doubt I could do it. I had a hard enough time concentrating when it was just you."

His dark eyes penetrated hers. "You like to watch me?"

"It's very arousing for me, David. Did you think it wasn't?"

"I wasn't sure."

Holly nodded. "Yes. I was very turned on. Very aroused," she added, recalling the orgasm she'd had as soon as he'd walked into the house.

His expression visibly hardened and he leaned in to kiss her. It was a hot, furious kiss, full of wanton lust. His mouth devoured hers, sucking and pulling at her own as though to take from her the ardor to which she had just confessed. His arms dragged her body against his until she was in his lap, where he held her in the bands of his steely grasp, one of his hands in her hair, the other on her hip. Beneath her, his cock was rigid and straining against the fabric of his Speedos. His hips lifted to press his erection into her soft crotch.

If she had been wearing a two piece instead of a one piece, the deed might have been done there on steps of the pool. As it was, he was conscious of his neighbors and didn't think Holly would enjoy flashing the neighborhood. He lifted her in his arms and carried her dripping to the bedroom. As he peeled the swimsuit off her shoulders, he saw where the sun had already scorched her skin a little. Bending over her, he kissed her sunburned shoulder, feeling the heat from her skin and smelling the warm aroma. It was delicious. Her face was burned as well, her cheeks two red patches that made her look years younger. She'd said she didn't burn but she had today. He finished ridding her of her suit and only had to step out of his own before pushing her down into the bed. Rather irritated with himself, he left her for an instant to get a condom.

"Is this okay?" he asked when he returned and assumed the missionary position.

Holly smiled coquettishly at him. "It certainly worked well last time."

He chuckled and guided his penis inside of her. She was tighter than last time. He stopped midway to catch his breath, wondering to himself if she would always have this effect on him. She was beautiful against his pillows, her black ringlets splayed like a sunburst around her glowing face. Her dark eyes smiled up at him. He'd never in his life known such a contented lover.

"Holly," he whispered. "Baby, you know just how to reach me."

Her hands swept over his chest, over the swirls of black hairs around his nipples. She leaned forward and licked one brown circle, then the other, then went back to the first to suck it. He groaned approvingly and began thrusting rhythmically into her. His nipples were a bit fleshy and easy to suck. She liked doing it. Obviously he liked it too.

He was thrusting harder, his breath uneven as he towered over her. Holly tried to concentrate on his other nipple, but the fire between her legs suddenly demanded her attention. She fell back on the pillows and closed her eyes, giving into the burning that consumed her every thought.

His groin rocked against hers, against her clit, and the sensation of it combined with his cock filling her gripped her in near-orgasmic ecstasy. Behind her closed eyes, she saw David with Byron. Muscle moved against muscle, strong hands caressed stiff cocks. Deep male grunts filled the air. The image of them together made her groan with pleasure.

She was so close she could see it coming. It swept over her in successive waves, caressing her face, her neck, her chest, teasing her breasts, stroking her belly. It embraced her pussy and squeezed, pulsing against her, against the hard shaft moving inside of her. Muscles contracted around the shaft and a flood of fluid burst over inside of her.

David gasped at the unexpected sensation; Holly jerked uncontrollably against him as the orgasm held her in a relentless spasm. He felt rather than saw the explosion around him; it enveloped him in a white-hot craze, silken fingers of pleasure ripping at his flesh and obliterating him. He yelled out at the intensity of it, not just once but over and over again, mingling with her own cries of unceasing ecstasy.

She was still coming beneath him and he gradually stilled himself, relishing the feel of her throbbing pussy against his dick. He closed his eyes and waited, listening to her, reacting to her hoarse cries with unexpected ardor. He'd never been with a woman who orgasmed for so long and the wonder of it made him want her again. He pulled out of her and went into the bathroom to dump the condom and grab another one. His dick was semi-hard and getting the damn thing on was going to be difficult.

Holly looked at him in something like agony. She couldn't make it stop. Putting out her hands, she dragged his hips to her face and took his cock into her mouth, coaxing it back to hardness. David held her head in his hand; his penis was so sensitive that every touch of her tongue made him feel like coming. He drove his dick into her, longing for it to end and yet titillated that it was still going on. Only in his youth had he been able to get a second erection this quickly. It felt different somehow...better. More sensitive, more intense. And although the blowjob was great, all he really wanted to do was get inside of her.

He stepped back from her to slide on the condom. Then he lay down on his back and dragged her on top of him. Grinning up at her, he was going to make her do the work. Judging from the smile on her face, she looked more than up to the task.

Holly rode him slowly, savoring the feel of his hard shaft in her sated pussy. Every nerve ending in her vagina was like a tiny supernova, exploding over and over again against the rigidity of his cock. His hands encircled her breasts and pulled her forward; his full lips took in both her nipples at once, sucking and licking them with unhurried enjoyment. He loved the feeling of her hard nipples against his tongue and how her areolas got stiff as well. As she rocked forward, her white breasts jiggled against his nose and he inhaled the scent of her, warm skin and chlorine and his own scent all mixed together and enhanced by the smell of sex lingering in the air.

Lying back on the pillow, he let his hands wander down her sides to her butt cheeks. They were surprisingly cool compared to her breasts. He held them firmly, thrusting up into her. Suddenly, the leisurely pace of their lovemaking changed. He wanted her.

"Fuck me, Holly," he said between clenched teeth. "Fuck me harder. Come on. Grind down on top of me."

His words spurred her and she plunged downward, taking all of him into her before crushing her groin against his. His eyes widened and he grinned roguishly. He wouldn't have thought her capable of being so rough.

"Harder," he urged her. "Come on, Holly, don't be such a wimp. You can fuck me harder than that. You know you want to. Do it. Do it, baby! Harder!"

She pounded him, her knees squeezing against his rib cage and her hands grasping his shoulders. His own fingers gripped her ass as he drove fiercely up into her. He looked down to where his dick was disappearing inside of her at a furious rate. Her black pubic hair glistened with moisture. He brought a hand around to it and rubbed her clit with a rough thumb. She gasped, gaping at him. Her lips curled back from her mouth like an animal. She hardly looked like Holly anymore.

"Yeah," he drawled lustfully. "Oh man, you are so fucking hot. God, I love fucking you, baby. Keep fucking me, Holly. Don't stop. Shit, it feels so good."

She couldn't believe what his thumb was doing to her. He was sending her over the edge to new territory, to a place she hadn't been before. Was she having another orgasm? God, she couldn't tell. All she knew was that her pussy was exploding in waves of pleasure and she didn't want it to end. She rocked up and down on him, her eyes squeezed shut, willing him not to come. She didn't want to stop. She was on some kind of orgasmic high that she hoped to never come down from.

"Oh," he groaned. "Oh, Holly. Fuck. Shit. I'm fucking gonna come. Oh, baby...."

He jerked violently against her, gripping her hips and driving her down onto his shaft. He felt a small amount of semen ejaculate and sighed. Too bad it had to end.

She looked equally regretful and yet completely spent. Moving off of him, Holly laid down on the bed and dragged the bedspread over her body. She immediately dozed off. He watched her, smiling to himself how she did that.

She slept several hours, partly from the vigorous lovemaking, partly from the slight sunburn she'd gotten. Opening her eyes, she was happy to find David sleeping peacefully beside her. For a long while she stared at his face, at his dark lashes lying against his bronzed skin. She wondered if he fell asleep with Byron in his arms. Almost immediately she told herself not to think that way. Perhaps his relationship with Byron was completely different than the one he had with her; then again, maybe not. Once more she had to acknowledge that she was feeling jealous over something she could never change. She wanted David too badly in her life to give him an ultimatum.

When he did awake, it was because of the smells coming from the kitchen. Holly had ordered several dishes from Konstantine's including her personal favorite, stuffed grape leaves. She was in the process of artfully arranging the food on two plates when he came into the kitchen. She stopped for a moment and smiled at him; David walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her body draped in the short white bathrobe.

"You were wonderful," he murmured against the skin of her neck.

She tilted her head to allow him more access, loving the way his lips felt as they grazed her flesh. He continued kissing her neck, lifting her unruly curls as he went. She closed her eyes and sighed. The bliss of being with him was almost too much. She wanted to turn and open herself to him then and there in the kitchen, but she refrained from doing so. Their lovemaking had been so rigorous and fulfilling, she didn't want to spoil the effect by rushing into it again.

When he had made a circle of kisses around her neck, he stood back and noticed the food on the plates.

"I'm ravenous," he announced.