Rebecca touched her finger to his lips, looked up at him through thick, dark lashes, her eyes crystal blue beneath. “Thank you, Matt Thanks for last night and for saying what you did about me. But I think you should know, I’m not really in a place—”
She was about to give him the brush-off, and Matt’s survival instincts kicked in. He pulled the floral thing between them, smiled lopsidedly. “Whoa—don’t get me wrong,” he said, forcing a laugh. “I was just saying thanks for the memories.” He winked at her.
Rebecca smiled, but her eyes said she didn’t believe him. “That’s what I thought,” she said softly, and stepped around him, walked to her car, opened the door, and tossed her bag inside. And then she started it up, throwing the thing in reverse and leaving the parking lot while he stood there like a dolt, holding some artsy-fartsy sculpture of paper flowers, quietly disturbed by the uncomfortable realization he had made that very same exit more times than he could count.
Chapter Fifteen
As with most things involving human emotion and sexuality it may take some time getting through whatever holds you back—but the outcome is certainly worthwhile!
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Rebecca couldn’t get back to Ruby Falls fast enough.
Once she was safely ensconced in her refuge, Rebecca fed her dogs, then treated herself to a long, soaking, bubble bath. But the soothing eye compress was not cold enough to chase his image from her mind’s eye, and the water wasn’t hot enough to melt away the feel of his body against hers, nor the lingering heat of the most sublime orgasm of her life. Each time she thought of it, she felt an enticing shiver snake down her spine. And when he had kissed her again in the garage of the Four Seasons—or rather, when she had kissed him—she had feared that she would melt again, like she had the night before, right into his arms . . .
So what if she did? Was that so bad? Yes! Yes, yes, yes . . .
Okay, maybe it was, but she’d be a whole lot happier if she could only say why.
Her head was pounding, so Rebecca turned in very early, Frank at the foot of her bed, and Bean with his head under the bed (the only part of his body that would fit) and dreamed a stupid, ridiculous, sensual dream in which she and Matt had mind-blowing sex, and he brought her to the very brink of what had all the markings of being the most stupendous orgasm ever. But she awoke, unfulfilled and miserable. The usual.
What worried her was that it didn’t end there. She felt fearfully and mysteriously fantastic Sunday, as if there was something wild inside, something that had been awakened after years of paralysis, trying to claw its way free, and it scared her. It had been so long since she had been anything but perfect, never so much as a hair out of place, her manner and her life all carefully controlled. To think that something wildly imperfect was rumbling about inside and demanding to be set free seemed like . . . anarchy.
There was only one thing to be done for it—housecleaning. Top to bottom, scrubbing, scrubbing, and scrubbing to get rid of that earthy feeling and put everything back in its proper place, including Matt, who had become, much to her horror, someone she thought she could actually like. Really like.
Naturally, the housekeeping did no good. Exhausted, she tried a different tact, and after devouring a container of Haagen-Dazs for supper, she spent the evening in the midst of her growing library of self-help and Zen books, scouring them for any tips or advice that might help her move onward through the strange fog that had enveloped her sometime Friday and now refused to dissipate.
No luck, of course.
So she pored through Friends and Lovers and How to Know the Difference in minute detail, but found nothing to help her put Matt in his proper category. Stupid book. It could at least list some attributes or something.
A phone call from Rachel, all excited, was the topper of her excruciatingly raw day. “I’ve been charting your horoscope!” she said happily when Rebecca answered the phone.
“Why?”
“What a silly question. Bec, it’s fantastic. Okay, you know Uranus is in Pisces, which is really great, I mean, you should really be prepared for something totally awesome. And then, guess what. Venus is in Pisces, too! So anyway, I was looking at your horoscope for the next year, and you will not believe what it says. Guess.”
“I—”
“Okay, I’ll tell you,” she said breathlessly. “It says that Venus will orbit very closely to Uranus, and there will be a strong current of electricity in the air, and that a Pisces will have powers of magnetism they have not known in seventy years. And that there is someone very close to you, probably a Cancer, who will fulfill you in ways you never dreamed.” Rachel paused there for dramatic effect, waiting for Rebecca to say something.
“Oh,” Rebecca obliged her.
“Bec!” Rachel cried, distressed she was not made ecstatic by the news. “Have I steered you wrong yet? Don’t you want to fall in love and—”