Crimson Palace (32 page)

It took her most of the day, but she finally found the perfect gown. When the bill was totaled she discovered she had spent a trifle more than Clay had given her, but the dress was worth every penny and more, she thought as she dug into her small reserve fund from her library earnings. Hugging herself in delight and balancing her purchases precariously, she somehow managed to board a passing cable car.

Flushed with excitement and the effort it took to climb the steep hill while balancing the burden of her many purchases, Jenna burst into the boarding house just as dinner was being served.

"Better get on in here and eat, girl," Mabel’s gravely voice called to her. "If you don’t make it on time for meals around here, you’ll find yourself going hungry."

Dropping her packages onto a table in the entry hall, Jenna hurried into the dining room, anxious to tell Clay what she had bought. The table was lined with the other boards, leaving only two empty chairs -

hers and Clay’s. Stopping dead in her tracks, her eyes traveled from Clay’s empty chair to Mabel.

"Do you know where Clay is, Mable? Maybe I should wait for him," her voice trailed off.

"I’m not exactly his social secretary, so’s I don’t know where the man is. But he did say to tell you that he would be out late and that you was to go on and eat without him."

A wave of disappointment and embarrassment swept over Jenna as she hesitated by the door. She hated the thought of having to eat in the same room with these people, all of them wondering why Clay had left her alone. Finally the growling of her empty stomach drove her to her empty chair.

After the meal she climbed the stairs slowly, barely managing to drag her bundles with her. Although she was exhausted from her busy day, the primary emotion she felt was a heavy burden of disappointment that Clay was not there. Where in the world could he be at this hour? How could he even think of leaving her alone at night like this? And this was only their second night together!

The first thing that she noticed when she stepped through the door was the valise. Unlocked and gaping open, it sat on the middle of the bed. Dropping her packages onto the bed, she leaned over and peered into the case. It was totally empty.

A chill swept over her. For some unexplained reason, the sight of the empty valise frightened her. She suddenly realized that she would probably never know what he had carried with him from Reno. She had no idea why it bothered her so much, the not knowing, but somehow it suddenly felt very ominous.

She sat on the edge of the bed, trying to reason out what she was feeling. Finally, deciding she was over-reacting, she began to unwrap her purchases. Carefully folding each piece of lingerie, she placed them in neat stacks on the bookcase, wondering idly when Clay would get around to shopping for himself. Shaking the wrinkles from the three new dresses, she hung them from the nails on the wall, frustrated by the lack of a decent armoire.

She looked at her lapel watch; it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet. Glad she had included a new novel in her purchases, she positioned the single kerosene lamp by the rocker and began to read, thinking Clay would surely come walking through the door at any moment.

When Clay hadn’t returned by ten o[clock she decided to go on to bed, not knowing if she was tired or simply bored. Pulling the blankets over her, she felt an emptiness deep within herself. The bed felt so cold, so impersonal without his presence. She curled up in a ball, hugging herself in misery, certain she would never sleep.

***

The door squeaked on its hinges, bringing her out of a troubled slumber.

"Clay, is that you?" she called out in a sleepy voice.

"Were you expecting someone else?" The words were spoken sarcastically. She noticed that his voice sounded different, the words slightly slurred.

She could barely make out his form in the darkness as he began to undress for bed.

"Where have you been?"

"Where have you been?" he mimicked. "Just like a woman, always wanting to know a man’s every move. I’ll make a deal with you, Jenna, I won’t ask you about everything you do, and you do the same, all right?"

"Yes, Clay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you angry. It’s just that I missed you," she replied in a small voice.

She realized immediately she had made a dreadful mistake, questioning him like she had. Obviously, he was a man who needed his privacy. She must make sure she never made that mistake again.

To her relief, he had finally removed all of his clothing and climbed into the bed with her. Tucking his naked body next to her, his hands began a slow, searching caress. The only thing separating them was the gossamer thin nightgown she had bought earlier that day. Anticipating their loving, she wore nothing under the gown.

"I’ve brought you something," he whispered seductively into her year.

"What?" She sat up eagerly, pleased at the change in his mood. She tried vainly to see him in the darkness.

"Here, let me show you."

His hands swept under her gown, pulling it over her head in one swift motion. Reaching for a bottle he had placed beside the bed, he removed the cap and poured a sweetly scented oil into the palm of his hand. Rubbing his palms together, he began to spread a thin layer of the oil on her body. Starting with her full, hot breasts, he teased until the nipples throbbed with passion. Then he let his fingers drift to her ribs, to her abdomen, trailing at last to the hot, throbbing place between her legs.

"Turn over on your stomach," he ordered in a low, sensual voice.

Relieved that he had forgotten his anger with her and delighted with this new game, she quickly followed his instructions.

The flowery aroma of the oil heightened her sexual desire as his hands began their relentless conquest of her body. Pouring a thin stream of the liquid along her spine, his fingers smoothed it across her shoulders, then over the rest of her back. Using more of the oil, he kneaded her buttocks firmly. At his direction, she parted her legs, allowing him to smooth it along the insides of her thighs.

"Turn over", he whispered into the night.

She giggled with delight as he renewed his ministrations. Kneeling beside her, he dribbled the oil between her breasts, running the stream down to her navel. Dipping his fingers in it, he took both breasts in his hands, massaging their fullness, playing with the nipples until they became almost painfully hard.

Moans of pleasure escaped her lips as his hands left her breasts and brushed sweetly along her ribs. His fingers splayed her tiny waist for only a moment. Wonderfully exciting sensations swept over her as his fingers began a slow, rhythmic massage of her lower abdomen.

She held her breath in anticipation as he changed position. Spreading her legs, he crouched before her.

A gasp of surprise mixed with delight escaped her lips as he allowed a few drops of the oil to cover the most sexually sensitive spot on her body. She writhed in sexual abandon as his fingers gently rubbed the hot, moist flesh. Suddenly the most intense sexual release she had yet experienced overwhelmed her. She found herself biting her lips in a vain effort to keep from screaming aloud with pleasure.

Grinning, Clay sat back on his heels. He waited for a few moments to allow her breathing to return to normal, then handed the bottle to her.

"My turn now," he said as he lay face down across the bed.

She took the bottle from his hand willingly, eager to give as much pleasure as she had received. She marveled at his firm, well defined muscles as she began to minister to him. Leaning forward, she allowed her weight to help her give him a firm massage.

As she began to knead his buttocks, she was shocked to realized that she was beginning to feel a new wave of sexual desire stir. She let her hands travel onto his powerful legs, feeling the tight sinews relax as her fingers bit into them, smoothing away the tension.

When he rolled over to his back, she noted with delight that her ministrations were having the desired effect on her lover. Grinning into his eyes, she ignored the obvious, choosing instead to cover his chest first with kisses then with oil.

When she reached his abdomen, she looked to him for direction. In their previous lovemaking, she had never actually touched him there and wasn’t sure how to proceed.

"Put some of the oil in your hand and just do what comes naturally," he teased. "You’ll be surprised at how easy it will be."

With only the tiniest spark of reticence, she followed his directions. She was amazed at how silky smooth yet firm and hot it felt. Her fingers seemed to know instinctively how to bring him to his highest peak of sexual fervor yet. Suddenly he reached for her, coupling with her only seconds before his release.

"My goodness," she sighed, "I had no idea people did such things in bed."

"That’s nothing, sweetheart. You’ve got a lot to learn and you can believe me when I say that I’m the man to teach you."

She smiled drowsily as she thought of the wonderful life they would have together. The last thought that flashed through her mind before she drifted off to sleep was that she was the luckiest woman alive to be able to look forward to years and years of such loving.

The sun was shining brightly when Jenna awoke the next morning. Rolling over on her side, she gazed at her lover. The shadow of a frown crossed her brow. As much as she loved sleeping late beside him after a night of ardent lovemaking, she couldn’t help but wonder when he would begin his new job. Whenever she brought up the subject, she had been rewarded with a brusque reply that it was of no concern of hers.

She crept out of bed and dressed. Hoping Clay would wake soon, she took up her place in the rocking chair and tried to become interested in her book. When she found herself reading the same sentence for the third time, she closed the book and gazed out of the window.

She would go mad if she didn’t get out of this room soon!

"Clay?" she called softly to him.

His response was little more than a grunt.

"Clay?" she called a little louder.

"What do you want?" He didn’t sound too pleased at being disturbed.

"I’m going out for awhile. Do you want to come with me?"

"Just go on and leave me alone," he growled as he rolled over and went back to sleep.

Jenna paused at the door, looking at his sleeping form. What had she gotten herself into, she wondered?

How long could he expect her to remain here in this dismal boarding house? She turned and walked soberly down the steps and into the fresh, clean San Francisco air.

It was almost impossible to stay depressed in such a vibrant city, she thought as she felt her spirits lift.

Her pace quickened and a smile spread across her face as she strode toward the cable car stop. She stepped aboard the next car, not caring particularly where it took her. This was her city now and today she would begin to make it her own.

The days slipped by like magic. Jenna was amazed when she bought a newspaper one morning and, looking at the date, realized they had been in San Francisco for almost two weeks. Two weeks! And nothing much had changed from the first day of their arrival. Clay still showed no inclination toward going to work, although he never appeared to worry about money. And the date for their wedding was still not set.

Each evening Jenna was left to her own devices while Clay went his mysterious, solitary way. If he was in a good mood before he left, he might mention that he had some sort of deal he was working or, or somebody he had to meet, but usually he left her with no explanation of where he was going or what he would do when he got there.

She hated being left alone so much, but soon learned that he would amply reward her patience. Night after night, in the darkness of the tiny room, he taught her the intricacies of making love. She discovered sexual secrets that she would never have imagined in her wildest dreams. At first reluctant to try some of his more erotic suggestions, she quickly discovered that she craved his ministrations more with each passing night.

The subject of their wedding seldom came up anymore. When she did mention it, Clay always found some excuse for postponing it that seemed quite sensible. But she noticed that they spent less and less time talking to each other, instead they let their bodies do the talking for them.

The rhythm of the passing days became indelibly etched within Jenna. Each day she woke before Clay and went out to explore the city. When she returned Clay would be awake and preparing for his evening excursion. With sinking heart, dreading the lonely hours she faced, Jenna strained to keep a cheerful attitude, knowing that if she complained he would be furious with her.

Buoying up her spirits was the certain knowledge that when he returned they would make mad, passionate love. Often she lay in bed for hours alone, remembering with perfect clarity the exquisite sensations he evoked.

The first time she felt the stirrings of sexual desires flowing through her body, generated solely by her vivid memories, she had been shocked. Was she depraved, she wondered, to experience these sensations all alone? Did this happen to other women? But guilt was quickly washed away as the warm tide of sexual release overwhelmed her.

Afterward, fully relaxed for the first time since Clay left earlier in the evening, she lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. A small smile curled her lips. Clay would be surprised at her response to his loving tonight, she thought. If the mere thought of his touch could do that to me, just imagine how she would react to the real thing! She fell into a deep, relaxed sleep, the smile still on her lips.

She awoke to the sound of Clay entering the room. Opening her eyes, she was shocked to realize that it was already morning. Where have you been? she wanted to scream, but the look in his eyes kept her tongue still. Without bothering to even glance her way, he took off his clothes and fell into bed. In seconds his rhythmic breathing told her he was asleep.

The next night he came home earlier than usual. As they made love, he asked her to do things he had never asked before, things she would never have thought herself capable of. But she complied, wanting desperately to please him. To her surprise, she found that they were not so distasteful as she had expected, in fact, she rather enjoyed them herself.