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“Of course. As long as I’m allowed to mess you up again later.”
I rolled my eyes at him, but he helped me nonetheless, choosing me a light summer dress from my bag and bringing it over.
I’d slipped out of my clothes and was standing, naked. “I’ll need underwear,” I said, looking at the dress he was holding.
“No, you won’t.”
“But…”
He moved closer, putting the dress on the bed, and pulled me into his arms. “You won’t,” he said, and I looked up into his eyes, seeing the fire burning within them, and turned, pulling the dress on over my head. He groaned as I straightened it and then shook his head.
“What’s wrong?” I glanced down at myself, but couldn’t see anything out of place.
“Nothing. It’s just I didn’t think that through.”
“What?”
“You… not wearing any underwear.”
“Do you want me to put some on, then?” I asked.
“No. But it’s gonna drive me crazy knowing you’re naked underneath your dress.”
I leaned in to him, my arms around his neck, and we kissed, his hands reaching up under my skirt, settling on my bare ass, his skin against mine, and I moved closer, crushing my breasts to his chest.
He pulled back, breathless, and gazed into my eyes. “We either stop now, or I’m gonna rip that dress off of you, and fuck you… until your legs don’t work.”
He’d used the word ‘fuck’ before, but it had always been in the heat of the moment, and never in that context. I liked it. It sounded good, but so did driving him crazy all evening, and I grabbed his hand and dragged him from the room.
Pat was in the kitchen, and didn’t give the impression she was waiting for us, although she turned around on hearing us enter the room, and smiled… first at Hunter, and then at me. It was only then that I remembered how noisy I’d been, and I blushed, although Pat didn’t seem to notice, and Hunter led me over to the island unit, where we sat and ate the Teriyaki chicken and rice she’d made.
“When Hunter called to tell me he was bringing you with him for the weekend, he neglected to give me any instructions about what you like to eat, and what you don’t… so I took pot luck,” Pat said, giving him a rather pointed look.
I smiled at her. “I like most things, except tofu. My mom tried it in a stir-fry once, and it was horrible.”
Hunter laughed. “You won’t find much tofu in this house, so I don’t think we need to worry.”
“No, we don’t.” I looked up at Pat as she spoke, to find she was smiling over at us, with a kind of dreamy look on her face. I didn’t know what that meant, but I was enjoying my chicken too much to ask.
I only met Mick briefly that weekend. He was working on something in his and Pat’s apartment above the garage, but he came over to say hello. He struck me as shy, but avuncular; the kind of man who keeps himself to himself, with kindly eyes, and hair that was probably dark brown once upon a time, although it had turned gray.
The only down-side to Pat and Mick being at the house was that I missed those moments where Hunter and I did things together, like watching him make breakfast, or taking our dinner upstairs to bed with us. But it was a small price to pay, because we spent a lot more time on our own, doing the things we liked best.
After that, I thought I knew what to expect from our weekends in Newport… lazy mornings in bed, brunch in the kitchen, swimming in Hunter’s amazing pool, lying together on a couch in the library, curled up and reading… and making love, all the time. But last weekend was different again. That was because my period started on the Friday afternoon. I didn’t get the chance to tell Hunter before we left, and I spent the entire journey worrying about what to say. By the time we arrived, I was a nervous wreck, but the traffic had been heavier than the week before, and Pat had our meal ready upon our arrival. I had to sit through dinner, trying to eat, my nerves getting the better of me.
By the time we’d finished, I was a mess, and Hunter must have noticed because we didn’t hang around in the kitchen. Instead, after we’d thanked Pat for a lovely meal – that I’d barely touched – he took my hand and led me upstairs, straight to his room.
“What’s wrong?” he asked the moment the door closed behind him.
“I—I…” I couldn’t think what to say.
He took me over to the bed, sitting me down, and crouched in front of me, holding my hands and gazing into my eyes. “Tell me, Livia…” He looked so scared, and I knew I had to find a way.
“It’s just… my… my period.”
He seemed relieved and let out a sigh. “It’s late?”
He didn’t appear fazed by that thought, and somehow that helped me to relax. “No. It’s started.”
