Promise Canyon (16 page)

C
lay found a large, soft towel in Lilly’s bathroom and cleaned her up with smooth, gentle strokes. He tossed the towel on the floor, pulled back the covers on her bed and they both climbed in.

“You look awfully comfortable,” she whispered, snuggling up next to him.

The opera in the other room had ended, finally. At least they could talk in the hushed tones of lovers now. Clay’s laughter was deep and playful. “I can honestly say that I’m more comfortable than I’ve been in a very long time. And I think there’s even more comfort to be found—just give me time.”

She combed his long hair with her fingers and said, “Tell me why you’re here.”

“I couldn’t resist you,” he said. “I’ve known since the second I saw you that I wanted this with you. This and more. As we got to know each other better, the hunger grew.”

“I don’t even know how you ended up in my part of the world. I know you and Nate are old friends, but I’m sure there are lots of old friends. Why are you working
and living here?” she asked. “Just because of your sister and Gabe?”

“There’s more to it than that, but that’s a lot of it. I was adrift in Los Angeles. It wasn’t the place for me—never was. I’ve worked with Nathaniel before, when he was in Southern California, before his father retired and left the practice to him. I was looking for a way out of L.A. so when he called it seemed like the perfect opportunity. And…” He paused. “Lilly, I was married. We divorced two years ago, but it didn’t give me much distance from my wife. I worked for her family. It was important that I break away from that relationship.”

“You almost sound as though you’re confessing something,” she said. She smoothed the long, dark hair over his ear. “It’s not a crime to be divorced. A lot of people have been married before. I’m sorry if it was painful for you.” And more quietly she added, “And for her.”

“The marriage was her idea. The divorce was inevitable and also her idea. We were too different—an heiress and a common Navajo farrier. I thought I could take care of her in spite of that. About some things I can be so naive.”

She smiled at him. “There’s nothing common about you,” she said. “Did it break your heart? The divorce?”

“Hard to tell,” he admitted. “My heart was at war with my pride. I felt like I had failed her.” He gave her a kiss. “But I’m done talking about that. I’d rather talk about us.”

“Is there an us?”

“Oh, you know there is. Unless you’d like to talk about
him
. The boyfriend.”

She couldn’t help herself; she laughed softly. “It’s not
at all what you think, Clay, or I wouldn’t be with you like this now. About us…?”

He took her small hand and pulled it to him; he was already becoming aroused again. “Just the beginning of us.”

She reached past his shoulder to the bedside stand and lifted the little foil package. “It would be a bad idea to forget really important things,” she said, ripping it open and taking it upon herself to apply the condom.

At her very touch he let out a breath. He raised himself over her, covered her lips with his, even as he separated her legs with his knees and teased her very center with the tip of his sheathed penis. He held his weight off her as he probed her. “We’ll get to all the other things later. There’s nothing at all complicated about this. I need to be inside you.”

And she needed him there. She already felt a lovely, satisfying intimacy with him, but there was a need deep inside her that she’d ignored for so long, that need to be
possessed.
She didn’t answer him, but simply tilted her hips toward him and he lowered himself carefully. Slowly. Gently. She was so small and he was so big; it brought tears to her eyes as he moved within her with such caution and care.

“Are you okay, Lilly?” he whispered. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

As she shook her head, a tear loosened and rolled into the hair at her temple and a little squeak of emotion escaped her. “Please,” she said softly. “Oh, please, Clay. I want you. All of you.”

He growled with passion so hot, he trembled to control himself. With his hands on her hips, his lips on her lips, he moved inside her with precision, deep and
strong. After the first few strokes a rhythm took over and her hips moved against his. He was astonished at her power for one so small, so sweet. He felt her hands on his hips, pulling him into her; he had to grit his teeth to hang on. Waiting for her was going to be difficult, even when it wasn’t the first time tonight—there was such a force in her supple little body. “Lilly,” he said in a drawn-out whisper. “Oh, my God, Lilly…”

“Yes,” came out of her like a hiss.
“Yes!”
With her hands plunged into his long hair and gripping him, she led his head downward, his mouth to her nipple, and he went there willingly. He sucked hard, pulling that erect little knot into his mouth, and he pumped into her with gusto, rubbing his shaft against her clitoris as he penetrated her as deeply as her body would allow. “Oh, my God, yes…” she said. And he felt it begin in the deepest part of her core, gripping him with hot, wet, desperate tightness. She dug her heels into the bed and pushed against him, locked onto him. Her legs came around his hips to hold him there and she shattered. It was a small but powerful explosion of ecstasy that grew and grew; she held him inside her, held his head to her breast, and she clenched him in spasms of pleasure.

Clay held on for a moment, enjoying her orgasm, then he let go and throbbed with his own release. He heard her again, in the faintest, weak whisper. “Yes… Oh, yes…”

He couldn’t even force himself to leave her body so he balanced himself above her. He gently stroked her face. Her eyes were closed and there was a small smile of satisfaction on her lips. “See?” he whispered. “We can do it justice even without opera.”

Her eyes popped open and she let go a big laugh.

Clay insisted on taking Lilly out for dinner, though she’d have been just as happy to pull on those soft yoga togs, stay comfortable and half-naked and finish the meal she’d started in the kitchen. He had a double purpose, he said. He wanted some meat and more condoms. Neither were items Lilly had on hand.

He took her to a Mexican place, a little hole-in-the-wall where the carne asada was fantastic and she could have her fill of beans, rice, tortillas and cheese. He wanted to know all about the man he was competing with, the man he meant to take her away from, but he used great restraint and didn’t raise the subject. Probably she had things to work out about that. There might be choices and decisions that weren’t easy for her. He wanted to say, “Tell him it’s over and we’re together now,” but he didn’t. They’d talk about it before too long. Until they did, he didn’t want to appear a brute.

He wanted her to come to him, not succumb to him.

Instead, he asked, “How long have you been in your little house?”

“Two years. I rent it. I had always lived with Yaz and I thought at twenty-five I was past due for a little space of my own. Yaz isn’t crazy about the idea, but I like it.”

“He wanted you in his house forever?” Clay asked.

“Of course he did,” she said with a laugh. “He might still be plotting my return.”

“I was thinking how perfect that little house seemed for you. And you need your privacy.”

“What I needed was independence, and sometimes solitude.”

He reached for her hand. “Do you need solitude tonight, Lilly?” he asked softly.

Her eyes twinkled and she smiled. “I think I’ll have solitude tomorrow. That’s soon enough.”

So Clay stayed the night with her and made sure she was very well loved. It thrilled him that she reached for him in the night and when he opened his eyes he saw that hers were glistening and bright; she hadn’t reached out of habit, but out of desire. He was quick to reward her longing, to satisfy her. She was so hungry, it couldn’t escape his notice. Hungrier even than he, and that made an impression on him. Lilly had been left wanting, and a woman with her passion and responsiveness should never have found herself in such a state.

In the morning he kissed her sweetly before leaving. “I don’t want to go, but horses aren’t known for sleeping in,” he whispered. “I’ll see you later, when you’re free.”

The hours dragged for him until the afternoon. Annie gave some riding lessons in the morning, Nathaniel went out to a couple of ranches to see about sick animals, Gabe came to the stable in the early afternoon to do chores, and finally at midafternoon she appeared. While they readied a couple of horses for a ride, he stole a few deep, hot kisses and then took her out on the trail. On the trail there was some desperate groping and kissing when they were away from prying eyes.

“Let me come to your house tonight,” he begged.

“But Gabe is here. Don’t you go to your sister’s most nights?”

“Most. Not tonight. Tonight I want to be with you.”

“Will you eat a veggie meal with me?” she asked, teasing.

“I’ll eat tree bark if it makes you happy.”

“Hmm. I think you might work out….”

When they returned to the stable, took care of the horses and Lilly departed, Gabe didn’t waste any time nudging his dad.

“Looks like something’s happening there with you and Lilly.”

Clay lifted a brow, peered at his son and asked, “How would you feel about that?”

Gabe shrugged and said, “To tell the truth, I really didn’t think she was too old for me. But you beat me to it.” When his dad went pale, Gabe laughed at him. “Lighten up, man. Lilly’s cool. Go for it.”

And Clay thought,
I did, I am, and I will….

Lilly’s weekends till now had been very predictable and dull. She spent Saturdays shopping and cleaning, both her house and her grandfather’s. She made sure his laundry was caught up and his house clean. Yaz was far from helpless; he always made his bed, washed his dishes, swept his floors and put things away. But he was sixty-nine and no longer noticed the finer grit—the dust or smears or stains. He made apologetic comments when he realized she was cleaning something he had missed. “I didn’t notice the spill, Lilly.” “You could ignore the sheets for another week—they’re clean enough.” “I already mopped there—but I suppose I’m not as fussy as you.”

Even though she had moved into her own little house, she was still the only woman in his. If she didn’t chase away the dirt, no one would. But on this Saturday, after her chores, she had gone to the stable for a ride and later had that hard, strong Navajo in her bed all night.

On Sundays she shared a meal with her grandfather, a meal that she prepared at his house. He made his usual snide remarks about her vegetarian dishes; he said his doctor ordered him to have meat in his diet. She knew perfectly well he didn’t have a doctor. No amount of badgering would get him to go for a physical.

“When are you going to let it out, Lilly?” he asked her. “The thing that’s got you smiling to yourself and avoiding eye contact?”

She shrugged. “I don’t want a lot of crap about it,” she informed him.

“Take your chances. I’m a blunt old man.”

“You use age as an excuse. What if I told you I think I like the new man who works for Nathaniel Jensen? You know who I mean—the Navajo vet tech.”

He looked at her levelly for a long moment. “I could die a happy Hopi,” he finally said.

“See? What a pain you are! I just said I like him, that’s all!”

Yaz ignored her and became serious. “Lilly, when a man and woman are right together, the earth stands still for a moment,” he said, almost solemnly. “That’s how it was with your grandmother and me. Time stopped and a bright light protected us. We wore halos and could only see each other. There was impatience in every glance between us. Our fathers hurried our marriage to keep us from making a lot of big mistakes. She was not my first girl. I was not the first boy she had been attracted to, but when we met it was done. That was the last. The best and the last.” He had a lot of wrinkles around his eyes. He stared at her hard. “I never saw this with you and any young man. Never. If I saw you with that new man, that vet tech, is that what I’d see?”

She glanced away. “I doubt it. I just think he’s nice, that’s all. We have horses in common.” She shrugged and muttered, “It’s probably a mistake, but there it is. I like him.” She glanced over her shoulder at her grandpa. “Do you? Like him?”

“Ah, I think he’s all right,” Yaz finally said. “Nothing wrong with him that a little Hopi blood wouldn’t fix, huh? Truth? I don’t care who he is or what he is—I care about
you.
When we came here, you changed yourself as much as you could, making yourself as different as possible so you would never risk making a mistake.
Shiyazhi,
little one, don’t you know you can’t make a big enough mistake to turn me away from you?”

That’s what she had done and she knew it. Starting at an early age she chose discipline; feeling she’d failed her only family, her grandpa, with her dangerous fling, she pursued perfection. She studied, built her body strong, took perfect care of the house and meals. She even denied herself—she ate sparsely, rationed possessions and friends, worked hard since before she was fourteen, before it was even legal to employ her. She gave up horses. Her grandpa offered to find her a stable where she could do a little riding for fun, but she declined. It was a long time before she relaxed and even began to enjoy life. To let herself enjoy life.

Even now, she was denying how deeply she felt for Clay, telling her grandfather she just sort of liked him. Why couldn’t she just let herself go?

She couldn’t help the gathering moisture in her eyes, nor her smile. “I know that, Grandpa,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

He stood from their table and with a deliberate lack of
sentiment, he carried his dishes to the sink. “Don’t thank me. Do what you must. Before I die, if you please.”

She laughed at him. That old Hopi would be dancing on her grave. He might look weathered from too many years of work and too much sun, but he was healthy as an ox.

She was pulling into the drive of her little house at six in the evening when her cell phone chimed in her purse. She didn’t recognize the number, but answered. “Hello?”