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"Oh."
"Where are we?" I asked, looking out the window and seeing we were on a highway now that was surrounded by marshlands.
"Just a nice place we go sometimes. There's a good view up ahead," he said, and turned down a side road that brought us to an open field, looking back at the lights of New Orleans. "Nice, huh?"
"Yes. It's beautiful." I wondered if I would ever get used to the tall buildings and sea of lights. I still felt very much like a stranger.
He turned off his engine, but left the radio playing a soft, romantic song. Although it was mostly cloudy now, stars peeked down through any break in the overcast, twinkling brightly. Beau turned to me and took my hand.
"What sort of dates did you have in the bayou?" he asked.
"I never really went on what you would call a date, I suppose. I went to town for a soda. Once, I went to a fais dodo with a boy: A dance," I added.
"Oh. Oh, yeah."
I couldn't see his face in the darkness and it reminded me of our time in the cabana. Just like then, my heart began to pitter-patter for seemingly no reason. I saw his head and shoulders move toward me until I felt his lips find mine. It was a short kiss, but he followed it with a deep moan and his hands clutched my shoulders and held me tightly.
"Ruby," he whispered. "You look like Gisselle, but you're so much softer, so much lovelier that it's very easy for me to tell the difference between you even with a quick glance." He kissed me again and then kissed the tip of my nose. I had my eyes closed and felt his lips slide softly over my cheeks. He kissed my closed eyes and my forehead and then pulled me closer to him to seal my lips with his in a long, demanding kiss that sent invisible fingers over my breasts and down the small of my stomach, making me tingle to my toes.
"Oh, Ruby, Ruby," he chanted. His lips were on my neck and before I knew it, he brought them to the tops of my breasts, moving quickly to the small valley between them. Whatever resistance was naturally in me, softened. I moaned and let myself sink deeper into the seat as he moved over me, his hands now finding their way over my bosom, his fingers expertly sliding the zipper down until my dress loosened enough for him to bring it lower.
"Oh, Beau, I . ."
"You're so lovely, lovelier than Gisselle. Your skin is like silk to her sandpaper."
His fingers found the clasp of my bra and almost before I knew it, undid it. Instantly, his mouth moved over my breast, nudging my bra away to expose more and more until he found my nipple, erect, firm, waiting despite the voice within me that tried to keep my body from being so willing. It was truly as though there were two of me: the sensible, quiet, and logical Ruby, and the wild, hungry-forlove-and-affection emotional Ruby.
"I have a blanket in the back," he whispered. "We can spread it out and lie out here under the stars and. ."
And what? I thought finally. Grope and pet each other until there was no turning back? Suddenly, Daphne's furious face flashed before me and her words resounded: ". . . They look for girls who are more promiscuous, more obliging. . Whether it is true or not, Cajun girls have reputations."
"No, Beau. We're going too fast and too far, I can't. . ." I cried.
"We'll just sprawl out and be more
comfortable," he proposed, keeping his lips close to my ear.
"It would be more than that and you know it, Beau Andreas."
"Come on, Ruby. You've done this before, haven't you?" he said with a sharpness that cut into my heart.
"Never, Beau. Not like you think," I replied with indignation. My tone made him regret his accusation, but he wasn't easily dissuaded.
"Then let me be the first, Ruby. I want to be your first. Please," he pleaded.
"Beau . ."
He continued moving his lips over my breasts, urging and encouraging me with his fingers, his touch, his tongue, and hot breath, but I firmed up my resistance, a resistance fueled by the memory of Daphne's accusations and expectations. I would not fit the image of the Cajun girl they wanted me to be. I would not give any of them the satisfaction.
"What's wrong, Ruby? Don't you like me?" Beau moaned when I pulled myself back and held my dress against my bosom.
"I do, Beau. I like you a lot, but I don't want to do this now. I don't want to do what everyone expects I would do. . . even you," I added.
Beau sat back abruptly, his frustration quickly turning into anger.
"You led me to believe you really liked me," he said.
"I do, Beau, but why can't we stop when I ask you to stop? Why can't we just--"
