Saturday, May 4, 2013
Wind in White Birch - Issue # 18
Hello all! My name is V.L. Locey. I am a self-published and traditionally published author that lives in the mountains of Pennsylvania with my husband of over twenty-one years, my seventeen year old daughter, a herd of dairy goats, chickens, geese, ducks, turkeys, two dogs, two cats, and a partridge in a pear tree. For more info about me and contact links, check out the author bio tab up above.
Enough about me, let`s get back to Wind in White Birch and our lovers Jonah and Dana.
Wind in White Birch
I think I ordered baked rigatoni. It looked, smelled, and tasted like rigatoni. The consistency was right. Ribbed pasta with thick sauce and melted mozzarella that stuck to my tongue. If I had been able to tug my sight from Jonah sitting across from me, I could have been sure it was rigatoni. When he began forking individual bites of his own meal into my mouth I kind of lost sense of time, space, and my own place in the universe. Maybe it was the way the candlelight made his eyes look like ebony pools. Or it could have been the wandering violinist playing something Italian as he strolled around the discreetly quiet restaurant.
“You`re going to run out of food,” I pointed out after chewing and swallowing a delicious mouthful of veal and cheese. “Here, I don`t want you to grow weak before we even get a chance to have dessert.”
He said not one word but he leaned over the table slightly and tugged a cheesy rigatoni from my fork. I sat in my nicely upholstered red chair watching him chew. I was holding things together well until he ran his tongue over his lips to gather up a few droplets of tomato sauce. Then I had to cross my legs to try to calm the eruption of need that his display had caused. His eyes never left my face. I felt color creeping up into my cheeks. Jonah dabbed at his mouth, got to his feet, and extended his work-rough hand to me. I giggled nervously, noting that most of the diners were still, you know . . . dining?
“Don`t look at them,” Jonah told me, “Just look at me.”
I did just as he said. I looked at him then gathered my napkin from my lap and laid it on the table. He smiled. My breasts tightened. Jonah led me to a small area beside the bar, the only place wide enough for two people to hold each other in the entire eatery. He stepped close, took my left hand in his right, slid his left hand around my waist to my back, and looked at the violinist. The older man gave us a knowing smile then launched into the singularly most beautiful song on a violin I had ever heard. Or perhaps it was the man holding me just a bit too close as he led me in tight circles that made the song so much lovelier?
“You`re very light on your feet,” I whispered, not wishing the patrons at the surrounding tables and bar to overhear our conversation.
“And you`re very light on my feet as well,” he teased as I stumbled over the tip of his shoe.
“I`m sorry, I`m so clumsy and self-conscious,” I muttered, looking down at our feet. Jonah put pressure on my back until I was flush to his chest. I had nowhere else to look but at him.
“Are you self-conscious about being the most beautiful woman in this city?” he asked, his breath spiced with oregano and basil just as mine was. I snorted then kissed him before I said something stupid.
We danced. The patrons clapped. Jonah paid the bill and swept me into my coat and out the door. He had me locked against him, his mouth roaming over mine, before we could exit the eatery properly. His kisses were mind-altering. He teased and tempted, ravaged and stroked, demanded and acquiesced. I couldn`t think straight or breath normally. My fingers were wound tightly in his hair as cold city wind blew up under my dress. That was probably the saving grace. I needed an icy Pittsburgh wind blowing on my overheated thighs. The feel of Jonah`s erection grinding against my abdomen while his teeth nibbled on my jugular had me deliberating how best to get laid on a sidewalk while avoiding police problems.
It was Jonah who finally drew back. His eyes were smoldering onyx coals, his breaths rapid and heated as they blew gently over my face. I went to tip-toe to plaster my lips over his once more. His hands slid from my back to my ass. A car pulled up. The valet parking attendant exited Jonah`s truck, coughed discreetly into his gloved hand and waited while we tried to look like we hadn`t been ready to do it on the doorstep. Jonah tipped him handsomely then lifted me up into his beast of a truck. I wiggled my fingers at the valet then buried my face into my palms.
“Dana?” I heard my date ask. I peeked through my splayed fingers. The man was smiling like a cat in a canary ranch, “You`re a terrible influence on me.”
My hands fell to my lap. “I`m a terrible influence on you? “ I squeaked. He nodded, winked, and then pulled out of the parking lot, taking the first exit to head to Clairton.
“You older women are nothing but hands,” he said, flipping on his turn signal.
“You`re lucky we had to pick up Rhett, or I would have thrown you down on the sidewalk and shown you just what a cougar is really capable of.”
The look the man gave me was absolutely priceless. “Damn, Dana, someday that tongue of yours is going to get you into serious trouble.”
Aha, so the game was on, was it? Wonderful! I was feeling all sorts of revved up and randy so why not? “Oh? And just what kind of trouble do you think my tongue can lead me into?”
The light we had been sitting at changed to green but the truck didn`t move. I stopped smiling at my reflection in my window and peeked over at Jonah. He was eying me like a lion eyes a gazelle. I had to wriggle around again.
“You really want to know what I think that tongue of yours could do to be in trouble?” he asked, his voice an octave lower and gruff with need.
I shook my head. I didn`t need to hear him talk dirty to me. My brain was already swimming in a lake of pure estrogen. The car behind us grew impatient. I jumped when the horn blasted. Jonah slowly pulled his eyes from my crossed legs and we started moving again.
Several moments passed. I wet my lips. I watched Clairton coming into view. The trucks radio was low and the heater high. “Are you mad?” I asked while I fidgeted with the hem of my dress.
“Mad? No, why would I be mad?” Jonah asked, pulling off where I pointed on State Street. “I just needed a few minutes to clear the image of you lying under me, sweaty and nude, from my mind.”
Oh. My. Goodness. I flung the door open to allow the lovely smelling cold wind of Clairton to blow up under my skirt yet again. If I kept this up my girly bits would be frostbitten.
Rhett, the wheedle king, managed to get three stories from me before his eyelids were ready to close. He had been all over Jonah from the moment he had seen the man in Clairton. My grandmother had been cool when we gathered up my son. Jonah had smiled and complimented her extensive collection of Precious Memories figurines. The man certainly knew how to soften a woman`s heart.
I moved from Rhett`s room down the hall to the linen closet. I tugged out several blankets, a pillow and one of my better pillowcases. Sniffing the fresh linens as I pattered back to the living room I was in no way prepared for what I saw when I stepped from the hallway. The only thing Jonah Big Deer had on at the moment was that necklace made out of cougar claws and his trousers.
Where was an arctic blast when you needed one?