caved. Gave in to that welcome warmth of another person holding her. Caring what was going on. It was a heady feeling. More addictive and attractive than any drug.
‘What is it, Betsey? What can I do for you?’
She settled. Everything in her growing still, like the moment when a violent storm blows out and what was just chaos and darkness is silence and light.
‘Really?’ she asked.
‘Really. Anything,’ he said. His arm curled around her shoulder. He held her close.
‘Will you…go to bed with me? Hold me?’
It took an enormous amount of courage to ask him that. More than it had to read that damn letter from the state. More than it had to come to Turner’s Corner and start a life. More than anything in a very long time. Oh, she’d fallen into bed with two men since she’d moved here. But it had been temporary and just for fun, for release. She had never asked one to share her bed – or her emotional upheaval.
He didn’t answer her. Just stood, locked the door and held out his hand. ‘Let’s go. You look exhausted.’
Betsey took his hand.
She woke up hot. It was so hot and Betsey couldn’t figure out why. Until she remembered being so terribly cold and turning up the heat. Then there was the extra body heat of a large man next to her. Curled up against her. One hand flung possessively across her belly. She let herself lie there and feel that. How good it felt to have someone touching her.
Betsey moved his hand as slowly as she possibly could so as not to wake him. She’d probably scared the shit out of him, yelling from her nightmare. She’d been having them, the same one mostly, ever since the letter had arrived. She pushed the thought away, crept out of bed and went into the living room to turn down the heat. All she could think about now that she was calm and sleep-drunk was how long her propane would last if she kept cranking up the heat any old time she felt like it.
She hit the bathroom and brushed her teeth. She’d slept on the sofa and then the crying and yelling and heat of the trailer had left her with a dry mouth that tasted like death.
‘Death,’ she said in the mirror, grimacing at herself.
‘Who you talking to?’ came a voice from behind the closed door. Unaccustomed to being spoken to from behind closed doors in the middle of the night, Betsey let out a startled squeal and speckled the mirror with toothpaste.
‘Jesus,’ she whispered, clutching her chest. ‘I was talking to myself,’ she whispered, pulling the door open.
‘Why are we whispering?’ he whispered back.
She studied his bare chest and his jeans. ‘So we can go back to sleep easier. Jeans?’
‘No drawers underneath.’ He grinned.
‘Oh. Need the bathroom?’ She blushed and hurried past him. ‘I’ll leave the light on so you don’t kill yourself.’
Betsey turned the overhead light on so he could see. She crawled back into bed, feeling the ghost of his body heat. It was odd and thrilling to hear another person moving around the small space. It felt somehow cosy. Safer.
When she heard him coming down the hall her heart picked up speed. He cracked the door open and stuck his head in. ‘OK for me to come in?’
She giggled. It was a nervous sound. Betsey rarely giggled. Ever. ‘Of course. I’m not kicking you out at –’ she glanced at the clock ‘– two o’clock because you had to pee.’
‘I can, though, Betsey, if you need me to.’ He stood there in the doorway watching her. There was interest in that gaze. Attraction if she wasn’t mistaken. But also unsureness and worry. He was a nice guy, wanting to be nice to her. To give her what she needed.
‘I don’t need you to. It’s fine.’ Her eyes skated along his body, studying him. Broad shoulders, a few freckles there. Nice pecs, a lovely flat, slightly ridged belly. Trim hips. Lean, long legs. Her heart flared and banged. Her breath came faster and she shook her head.
What she needed…
‘What I need,’ she said softly.
He cocked his head. Watched her. Waiting.
When she didn’t speak he said, ‘Yes?’
‘I was just thinking you look like a guy willing to walk home in the freezing dark if that’s what I need.’
‘Yes,’ he confirmed. ‘Whatever you need, Betsey.’
She held out her hand. ‘Whatever I need.’ She said it like a mantra.
He looked a little bewildered until she curled her fingers to him. ‘Well, come on then. If you mean it, Archie.’
He nodded. Said nothing. His blue eyes had turned a stormy grey in the harsh yellow light from her overhead.
‘I need you,’ she whispered. ‘If you can manage that. I mean, if you…want me too.’
He moved towards her and only stopped when she whispered, ‘Hit those lights.’
He did and his weight dipped her bed – a bed that usually only held her – and she found herself in his arms again. And he was kissing her.
God, she felt good. She felt so good. She wasn’t even naked yet and Archie marvelled at the softness of her. The yielding nature of her body beneath his. She stopped kissing him only briefly to mutter, ‘Archie’ and then she pulled off her T-shirt. His hands and hers warred to push her panties down. Yellow, he noted bizarrely.
‘I’m on the pill,’ she murmured. ‘And clean. It’s been…ages. Ages,’ she repeated, eyeing him. ‘But I have –’
He waved it off and touched her. Stroked his finger from her collar bone to her belly button. He watched mesmerised as her skin pebbled swiftly into goosebumps. Just from him touching her.
‘It’s been ages for me too. And I’m clean. As a whistle.’ He laughed softly. Moving in to kiss her where his finger had just been. She smelled so good and yet there was no discernible scent or perfume he could identify. It seemed to be simply the smell of Betsey. ‘But it’s up to you,’ he said, reaching her hipbones. He kissed her there, watched her jump a little. ‘Whatever you want, Betsey. Whatever you need.’
She put her hands on his head as he kissed lower. Said nothing. Only a small whimper escaped her when he kissed lower than her hipbones and parted her thighs with his hands. Archie could feel her energy – chaotic and wanting – and it was a heady mix. She arched up slightly only to realise she’d done it and then force herself down.
He shook his head, whispered, ‘Don’t do that. Don’t correct yourself.’
Her body rose up again, barely noticeable unless you were paying attention, and he slipped his hands beneath her ass, kissed over her neatly
