Desperate Measures (11 page)

“And you look handsome. Cashmere, eh,” she said, fingering the material in his jacket. Tonight he was wearing his Finsheims, of which he said he had eight pairs; trousers so well-tailored she knew they were custom-made; a white button-down shirt with his initials on the cuff. She knew the cuff links and tie clasp were solid gold. She knew about gold, about material, shoes, and everything it took to put a person together. She worked for Bloomingdale's, after all. She even knew that his belt was crocodile. There was a fortune on his back. Her own outfit paled in comparison. She'd gone to Jersey one Saturday to a store called Mickey Finn and bought everything she was wearing for seventy-nine dollars. Everything was marked down two or three times. If she'd paid full price, her outfit, including the boots, would have cost her $575.

“I'm ready, counselor,” she said, slinging a small suede purse over her shoulder.

The restaurant was uptown, trendy and brightly lighted. “Best food in town, for the moment,” Pete said after he ordered drinks.

The drinks were wonderful, the dinner excellent, the dessert to die for, the after-dinner drinks marvelous. Now it was time for after-dinner talk. The let's get to
really
know each other talk every couple had soon after meeting.

“I'm surprised you and Janny don't share an apartment. You could save quite a bit of money that way, or don't you believe in saving?” Pete asked curiously.

“At first we talked about it, but we're both private people. We each need our own space. We're both very capable, responsible people. We had to be to get to where we are now. Foster homes will do that to you,” she said wryly. “Sometimes being alone makes me feel vulnerable. I do get lonely from time to time, but then I call Janny or another friend and it passes.

“I put myself through college, got a good job. For a while I worked two jobs and weekends, worked my way up to the position of buyer. To answer your question, yes, I save money. Not a lot, because of the high rent, but I do manage to put something away every week. Personally speaking, I don't think that's too shabby.”

“What about your family? Do you have aunts or uncles, cousins?”

“Not a one. Are you sure you want to hear this? It's not very interesting.”

“I want to know
everything
there is to know about you, Maddie Stern,” Pete said quietly. “I was . . . I was in foster homes too.”

“I was three when my mother died. My father came in one day and said mother was sick, and before he could get her to the hospital, she died. He did his best to take care of me. For a while he left me with neighbors and friends while he worked. He always made dinner, though. To this day I hate macaroni and cheese. It was the only thing he knew how to make except for cereal and peanut butter and jelly. He always tucked me in at night, always read me stories, and he would use different voices for the characters in the stories. Sometimes he made up stories as he went along. I remember laughing and giggling a lot with my father. Sometimes ... sometimes if I try real hard, I think I can smell his aftershave lotion. I always got a whiff of it when he kissed me good night. He gave the best bear hugs.

“I think I was six when he met this woman named Belle. She pretended to love me when my father was around. When he wasn't around I went to bed dirty with only a sandwich for supper. My socks were always dirty, and when I was seven the lady next door showed me how to wash out my panties at night. Belle was . . . slovenly and she reeked of strange smells. I hated to be around her.

“When I was twelve my father died. It was the same year Marty Kelly kissed me on the cheek. After the funeral, Belle packed my bags and said, ‘Kid, I'm not your mother, and the way I see it, it's time for you to leave here. The foster care people are coming by to pick you up. You can call me once in a while, but don't make a habit of it.' I stayed in some kind of dormitory for a while and then a couple took me in.

“It was bearable because I met Janny and we had summers together.

“I was sixteen before I got smart enough to start asking questions. My father had a hundred-thousand-dollar life insurance policy, but Belle got it all. I called her and she said, and this is a direct quote, ‘Tough noogies, kid, it's all gone.' ”

Pete was off his chair and then she was in his arms. The other diners looked discreetly away as he crooned to her, “You'll never have to worry about anything again as long as I'm around. I'm going to take care of you forever and ever. That's a promise, Maddie.”

It was what Maddie wanted to hear, needed to hear. She knew in that one, exquisite moment that her future was secure.

“Now it's your turn. Tell me all about Pete Sorenson. From the day you were born,” Maddie said, her eyes crinkling up at the corners.

It took him almost an hour to tell her.

“Did you leave anything out?” she teased.

Did he? He hadn't told her about Barney. The only person he'd ever told about Barney was Annie. He'd mentioned him to Leo, but not in any great detail. “Well, do you want to hear the kid stuff?”

“Of course. I want to know everything.” She smiled intimately at him and then raised her eyebrows and openly leered at him. He laughed.

“I had this friend named Barney. We were best buddies. He was a couple of years older than me, but that was okay. He treated me like a buddy, and that was all that was important. He had a terrific tree house we played in. Jesus, I loved that kid. His mom was super too, but she was married to this prick who Barney hated. I think his mom was afraid of the guy, but she did love Barney the way my mom loved me.

“The day the social service people came to get me, I ran over to Barney's tree house and hid. We put up a hell of a fight, but in the end I had to go. Barney and I made a pact, we even cut our fingers with this old rusty knife and said we were blood brothers. Who knew anything about tetanus shots? Certainly not us. We didn't get blood poisoning, so I guess it wasn't that rusty. Anyway, Barney swore he would come and get me when I was sixteen. He'd be older and on his own then. He said he'd never forget me because we were blood brothers. I believed him. It made all those foster homes bearable because I knew Barney would come for me the day I turned sixteen.”

Maddie trilled with laughter. “Tell me you didn't believe that kid. Really, Pete. That's the funniest thing I ever heard. I know you were only six, but at six you know a little bit, for heaven's sake. You really believed him! Did you keep a calendar and mark off the days and years? Pete, you are so naive sometimes.” She laughed again, a chilling sound that made the fine hairs on the back of Pete's neck stand on end. “What happened on the day of your sixteenth birthday when he didn't show up?” She laughed again.

“I was devastated. I believed him because I wanted to believe him. I believe,” he said coolly, “that something happened to prevent him from keeping his promise to me. I will always, until the day I find Barney, believe that. That particular day, that particular incident, was the ... I will never forget it. Not ever. I think it's time I took you home.”

Maddie blinked, reached for his hand. He jerked it away and was on his feet before she could blink a second time. She felt her secure future slip away from her. How stiff he looked. Brittle, actually. Fear ran down her spine. “Pete, wait. I'm sorry. I guess I ... I don't know much about little kids, boys in particular. I'm sorry if I ... what did I do, hurt your feelings? Listen, sixteen is pretty old to ... Pete, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry.” “I am too, Maddie.”

Pete's face was a mask of disappointment when he dropped Maddie off at her apartment. She talked all the way, apologizing for her lack of understanding, begging him to understand, to forgive her.

“Will you call me?” she asked quietly when he turned to leave her.

“I don't know,” he said honestly.

He didn't call her, and he was miserable. He did call Annie, just to talk about mundane things. Even Annie failed to cheer him up. He talked to Barney—for hours on end in his apartment, where no one could hear him. He polished his surfboard a dozen times.

He was stubborn, he would never call, no matter how much it hurt. Barney was just too damn important to him. Couldn't she see that? Couldn't she tell by his tone of voice?

And then she called. He knew she was crying, had probably cried buckets. “Pete, I love you so much. I've been so miserable. Can you ever forgive me? I guess I just didn't understand. I do now, though. Please.”

Because he loved her, he forgave her.

“Would you have called me, Pete? I need to know.”

“No, Maddie, I wouldn't have called.”

“That's good, we're being honest with each other. I can handle it if you can. Can you come over now? I need you, Pete Sorenson.”

“And I need you, Maddie Stern. I'll be there in fifteen minutes.”

When he hung up, he said aloud to his old friend, “What do you think, Barney? It takes a big person to come around. I wouldn't have buckled no matter how much it hurt.”

 

“Oooh, I feel so good, Pete Sorenson.” Maddie stretched, arching her back and at the same time thrusting her knee into Pete's groin. She laughed when he groaned. She felt his instant erection. They had already made love twice. A heartbeat later she was on top of him, her dark hair a waterfall that cascaded down over her face and covered her heaving breasts.

“One of these days you are going to kill me,” Pete moaned as he felt himself slide into her, his fingers searching for the dusky nipples beneath the waterfall of her hair.

Maddie stopped her wild gyrating atop him just long enough to suck in her breath and curse his slowness, her wetness, his hardness. Her head reared back, the wild mane of hair behind her. She was aware of Pete's rotating hips, his fingers on the nubs of her breasts. And then she was beneath him in the blink of an eye, her hands guiding him, again cursing his slowness, demanding he satisfy her. “Now,” she hissed, her breathing ragged.

“No, no, no,” Pete whispered. “My way this time. Shhhh, let me make love to you.” His mouth swooped down on hers. “You're the nectar and I'm the bee,” he murmured as his tongue wrapped itself around hers.

His hands moved, both of them, one trailing down her hard, flat stomach, the other searching for and finding the dark patch of curls. Maddie stirred on the bed, urging him to search for and find the soft folds of her secret place and the wetness that would caress his hand. She murmured words he couldn't hear, but he sensed the urgency behind them. In turn he whispered the words lovers had been using since time began.

He nuzzled her neck, at the same time inhaling the faint fragrance that remained on her slick skin. He blazed a trail from her throat to her bare breasts, and she trembled with exquisite anticipation. All things moved to the distance, nothing and no one existed beyond this moment and place. The only reality was the way her body reacted to his. Pleasure radiated upward from some hidden well, and he allowed himself to be carried with it, unable to hinder the forward thrust of his own desire, lifting out of space and time into the turbulent waters he was creating in his love.

Greedy hands and fingers drew him closer, so close they were almost one, closer than any secret. As her hands moved over him, Pete was filled with a sense of his own power and exulted in her passion for him. She was so beautiful with her moist, kiss-reddened lips parted seductively, and her languorous, heavy-lidded gaze hinted at a depth of passion that excited him unbearably. Damn, he was hungry for her; he would have liked to spread her beneath him and plunge into her fiery depths, to feel himself become a part of her. Each curve of her body was eloquent; the roundness of her breasts with their dusky pink crests; the slender arc of her hips, which narrowed into long, lean legs; her silky skin gleaming softly with a sheen of desire. He would take her slowly, savoring each inch of her, the way he'd dreamed of since first seeing her, delighting in the pleasure they would share.

When he moved to cover her body with his, it was her turn to protest. “No, let me,” she whispered, rolling over on top of him.

As she leaned over him, her cloud of dark hair tumbled around his face, grazing his shoulder and tickling his chest. She smoothed his chest with her fingertips, trailing through the patch of dark curls, exploring the regions that were smooth and hairless, then moving to the flat hardness of his belly. He heard himself gasp as her hand wandered dangerously close to his groin and then flew upward again to his chest. He wanted to applaud her daring, yet he almost laughed when he saw her eyes widen wickedly.

In the time it took his heart to beat once, she was nestled between his legs, purring and licking.

When she lifted her head to look at him, her eyes heavy with desire, he was reminded of a feline who has just discovered the cream crock; the little smile she bestowed upon him was rife with a cat's self-satisfaction. And she was feline, he found himself thinking, sleek and smooth and silent, like a jungle cat, a black panther who has just given chase and was now anticipating the feast. She reached out to touch him again with her silky tongue, this time watching him, aware of his every reaction, relishing the hardness of him and feeling it pulsate in anticipation of her touch. When she closed her mouth around him, a deep throbbing sounded in his chest and rumbled from his lips. Unable to withstand her sensuous onslaught a moment longer, he reached out and pulled her beside him, and this time it was he who took the superior position. Only having her, losing himself within her, would satisfy.

A golden warmth flooded through Maddie as he brought his mouth to hers once again. His movements were smoothly executed as he drew a path from one breast to the other, covering each first with his hands and then with his lips. She clung to the strength of his arms, holding fast as though she were fearful of falling in on herself, never to be found again.