Cathy felt one of his large hands glide over her hip, pulling her body into close proximity to him. She felt the unmistakable bulge pressing into her belly. Her heart, already beating hard, speeded up. But he did nothing else except to kiss her deeply, openmouthed. Her senses began to reel at the heat of his mouth, the intimate stroke of his tongue.
When Michael was done branding her with his taste and the feel of him, he walked her to the door and then outside to see her into the cab. He did not close the cab door immediately. She looked up at him in question. He held her eyes, saying very softly, “I’ll be in touch.” He deliberately slid his gaze to the fullness of her bosom. Cathy could not stop the blush that climbed into her cheeks, and he gave a satisfied smile. He straightened and shut the door. He stepped back on the curb.
“Miss, where to?” At the cab driver’s query, Cathy gave him the name of the restaurant where she had met Michael for dinner. It was where she had left her car the night before. As the cab pulled away, Cathy looked over her shoulder through the back window. Michael had not remained at the curb to watch her drive off. She resolutely turned back around. She had not really expected him to do so, had she?
Chapter Four
After retrieving her car and returning to her apartment, Cathy went into her bedroom intending only a quick change of clothing before she left to visit her daughter at the hospital. When she had been preoccupied with her post-coital conversation with Michael, she had been only marginally aware of how she felt physically. Now, as she pulled off her rumpled clothes, she was aware of every twinge and ache.
Her body was unusually stiff, especially the muscles of her inner thighs and elsewhere that had not been used or stretched in a long time. Her bra rubbed uncomfortably against the peaks of her sensitive breasts, and it was a relief to rid herself of the lacy garment. She glanced down at herself. Her nipples were reddened and felt chapped.
Changing her mind about redressing, Cathy filled the bathtub and poured in Epsom salts. She lowered her protesting body into the soothing warmth. Leaning her head back against the tile wall, she closed her eyes. Raising her wet hands out of the water, she cupped her breasts and drew her thumbs firmly over her nipples. They budded instantly. She shuddered, recalling how it had felt to have Michael’s skilled hands and his hot marauding mouth suckling her breasts.
However reluctantly she had entered upon this affair, despite her guilt and shame, her body had been powerfully aroused. Just thinking about how Michael had touched her, how he had made her convulse with pleasure, caused liquid heat to pool between her thighs.
Cathy could scarcely comprehend what had happened to her. She didn’t understand. How could the sexual experience with a stranger have been so good? The lovemaking with her ex-husband had always been disappointing. She had thought something was wrong with her. She had believed that she was somehow inadequate in her emotional and physical makeup. Her ex had done nothing to counter her low self-esteem. He had freely and frequently expressed his belief that she was frigid.
What a na?ve twit I was, Cathy thought in disgust. In one night, a stranger had overturned everything that she had ever believed about herself.
Now she knew that Rick had been the one who was inadequate. He had been a selfish lover, rarely expending any energy in seeing that she was aroused, instead being wholly centered on his own pleasure. Under his impatient tutelage she had learned how to “service” a man. It had been just as cold and mechanical as that.