Just before he came about an hour later—give or take about fifty minutes on the man-exaggeration-scale—she shimmied up his body and kissed him deeply.
He exploded his insides onto her stomach. Sheer unadulterated ecstasy.
He could hear his heavy breathing in the silence that followed. And he could swear he heard some heavy breathing from Charmaine, too.
“Merci, chère,” he said, kissing the top of her head.
“Ummmm,” she answered sleepily. She was splayed over him with her legs bracketing his thighs.
“I made a mess on you. How ’bout we take a shower together, then it’s your turn.”
“Sounds tempting, but not tonight.”
“Huh?” Now this is a surprise. Since when does a woman do me, then hightail it out of Dodge without a little satisfaction of her own? He shouldn’t be upset, but he was. “Did I just get a pity fuck?”
She stiffened and raised her head to look at him. “As I recall, there was no fucking going on. As I recall, I’m still a born-again virgin.”
“Dammit, Charmaine,” he said, “is that what this was all about? Have a little action without crossing the friggin’ line you’ve drawn in the sand.”
She sat up and rolled off him, grabbing for his T-shirt, which she held against her stomach. By the slump of her shoulders, he could tell he’d hurt her feelings.
I screwed up again. Damn, damn, damn! Why can’t I just shut up? “I’m sorry. But one-way sex has never been my thing. I wanted you… still want you… more than I wanted to be done.”
“It was a gift, Rusty. Can’t you just accept that?”
Well, I sure made things better by talking some more. Why not just keep it up? Alienate her totally. So, he did. “Hell, no! I’m not a kid to be handed a lollipop and patted on the head… or my cock, in this case.”
She gasped at his crudity. “Why? Most men would.”
Because I probably still love you, that’s why. “I’m not most men. You couldn’t have wanted me very much if you could just stop there.” He knew that wasn’t true. He might have been in a testosterone haze, but he hadn’t been so far gone that her arousal hadn’t been evident to him. Angry, he jumped off the bed, about to stomp off to the bathroom when he stopped and pointed a finger at her. “Stay here. Don’t you dare move.”
She raised her chin and glared at him, but she said nothing. Dieu, if she only knew how she looked, sitting there all defiant and half-naked.
After he pissed and washed his hands and cock, he wet a clean washcloth and prepared to go back to Charmaine’s bedroom. When he opened the bathroom door, he almost ran over Tante Lulu who stood there about chest high to him, wearing the same pink tube thingees in her red hair. Red hair? Lordy, Lordy!
“Tsk-tsk! You almost gave me a heart attack, boy.”
“What are you doing up this time of night?”
“Hah! When you get to be my age, you have to pee every other hour. What you doin’ with that washcloth?” she asked, a sly cast to her eyes.
“Uh, I spilled something,” he said, and, boy, was that the understatement of the year.
“I’m sure you did.” She cackled with glee.
Raoul belatedly remembered that he was naked and he draped the washcloth over his lower half, but not before the old lady commented with a lascivious glance downward, “Great wee-wee!” just before she sashayed past him into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
Raoul’s jaw dropped. Wee-wee?
But then that infernal voice in his head remarked, Not so great, actually. I’ve seen better.
Go away!
You should have seen the wee-wee on Adam. God was being generous in those days. And Goliath! Saints preserve us! Oops. I forgot. I am a saint.
Raoul shook his head slowly from side to side and wondered when his life had taken a detour to Bedlam.
Chapter 11
Still in the still of the night…
The door opened without so much as a knock just as Charmaine had made her way to the dresser in the dark. It was Rusty, of course.