Services Rendered (8 page)

With a cry, she let herself fall over the
edge, her body convulsing in waves of pleasure as John’s imaginary tongue
flicked across her clit. Giving up the fantasy, she rode the waves as they
broke and grew smaller. Only when the last of them ebbed away did she grin and
roll over. Damn but he was good—and he wasn’t even here.

She glanced at the clock and laughed out
loud. She’d set a record. John couldn’t be more than two miles away yet and
here she lay, fully sated at his envisioned hands. Sitting up, she pulled the
panda and vibe from between her legs, shutting off the battery-operated piece
of bliss.

“Tomorrow,” she promised herself. “Tomorrow
I’ll get my act together.”

* * * * *

Of course Beth wanted details. “C’mon,
girl. Tell me! Did you let him get lucky?”

Lauren made coffee, as at home in Beth’s
kitchen as she was in her own. Probably more so. Behind her, the baby played on
a blanket Beth had laid out on the floor of the kitchen, her attention caught
as much as by her own feet as by the tripod of toys that dangled above her.

“No way,” Lauren teased as she spooned
coffee into the filter. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Why not? I do.”

Beth had been pretty forthcoming about the
relationship she and Paul had forged. Over the years, Lauren had learned to
rely on Beth’s instincts in so many things. A natural leader, it was easy to
let Beth plan everything and just go along with her. Paul, apparently, had
discovered the same thing.

Lauren liked Paul. He reminded her of
herself. Easygoing, laid-back, not ambitious. No, Paul wasn’t that last. That
adjective belonged solely to her. She was the one who couldn’t get herself moving
in any direction. The status quo fit her just fine, even if it put her in a
rut. A rut she’d been enjoying quite well, thank you, until John had come
along.

“Yeah, well, you and Paul have an
interesting…sex life.”

“And you need one.”

Lauren bent down and pushed a triangle on
Emily’s toy to set it swinging. “I don’t want any more short-timers, Beth. Look
at this.” She stood and gestured to the homey kitchen, the baby on the floor,
the settled feel of the entire scene. “I’m ready for this. And I’m not going to
get it if all I do is satisfy my lust.”

Beth narrowed her eyes as if Lauren had
become an interesting artifact that needed careful study. “Are you really ready
for this? For the diapers and the crying and the mortgage and staying home
because you can’t get a sitter? Are you really?”

Lauren snorted. “Okay, maybe not entirely
ready.” She ran her hand through her hair. “But I’m getting there. At least
I’ve finally figured out that I do want it. You have to give me credit for
that.”

The timer on the coffeemaker dinged and
Beth got up from the table to pour two cups. “It’s a huge step for you, Lauren.
I know that. And I’m glad to see you make it.”

Lauren heard the finality in Beth’s voice,
a finality that implied, “I hear what you’re saying but pardon me if I don’t
believe you”. Not that she blamed Beth. Lauren had been pretty hard to live
with these past few months. She sighed.

“I guess I’ve been pretty full of myself.
I’m sorry, Beth.”

Beth chuckled. “You had a right to be. I
won’t pretend to understand what you went through over there.” She handed a mug
to Lauren and sat beside her. “I’m glad to hear you talking about the future.
That’s a good step forward.”

“And I’m thinking it’s a future that might
just include Big John, if I didn’t scare him away last night.”

At Beth’s inquiring eyebrow, Lauren related
the fiasco in the parking lot.

“Yeah, but he didn’t run away,” Beth
pointed out when Lauren finished. “He made a point to give Mrs. Boorman
something to gossip about. In fact, you’re going to find your reputation in the
apartment complex seriously discussed by the time you get home today.”

Lauren laughed. “He didn’t run away. And
that’s why I think this one might be—” She stopped and shook her head. “Nope.
Not going to say it. Don’t want to jinx it.”

“Are you going out with him again?”

Before she could answer, her cell phone
gave out a chickadee’s chirp. With a blush, Lauren stood up. “I’m about to find
out. This is him.”

Lauren made for the back deck, sliding the
glass door shut behind her as she answered John’s call with a forced gaiety in
her voice. “Morning!”

“Thought I’d call and see how you were this
morning.” His voice sounded husky, as if he’d just gotten up. Lauren found it
extremely sexy.

“I’m doing quite well, thank you. I don’t
stay down for long.” She rolled her eyes. Could she possibly be more inane?

“Good to hear. There’s a band playing at
Parker’s this Friday night. Would you care to join me?”

Lauren’s heart beat hard. He wanted to see
her again. Tossing her head and affecting a nonchalance she didn’t feel, she
answered, “I’d love to. Shall I meet you there? Or…” She banged the heel of her
hand on her forehead. She was such an idiot. She didn’t want to meet him there,
she wanted him to pick her up and ravish her. Hadn’t he promised to tie her up?
Focus, Carr, focus.

“I’ll pick you up at seven. Don’t eat. If
you can last until we get there, they have great chicken wings.”

“You’re on.”

“See you Friday.”

“See you Friday!”

She shut the phone and groaned. The door
slid open immediately.

“Well? Come on, don’t keep me in suspense.
Did he ask you out again?”

Lauren nodded. “I sounded like a
star-struck teenager. I can’t believe I got tongue-tied!”

Beth wiggled her eyebrows. “I’m pretty sure
he’ll manage to straighten out that tongue if you give him half a chance.”

Laughing, they went inside, Beth already
giving her clothing suggestions and pick-up lines.

John snapped shut his phone and stared at
it, puzzled. Lauren sounded particularly chipper this morning. Bright. Perky.
Not adjectives he would’ve used to describe her based on either of their two
previous meetings. Was he rushing things to ask her out on another date so
soon?

Then he remembered the pliant feel of her
lips under his. She felt good in his arms. No, she felt incredible in his arms.
Yeah, perky or not, Lauren Carr deserved another chance.

Through the front window of his bungalow
John saw Will pull into his driveway. How long had his friend had that beat-up,
old Chevy truck? The red paint had long given way to rust in several places,
the tailgate latch replaced with a twist of heavy rope and the springs had
sprung years ago. Yet Will clung to the truck as if it were the love of his
life. John opened the front door as Will rolled down his window.

“Gotta hit the hardware store. Wanna come
with me?”

“Give me five minutes. Need to find my
sneakers.”

John couldn’t figure out where his sneakers
disappeared to each night. Hadn’t he taken them off yesterday in his bedroom
when he went to get dressed for his date with Lauren? Nope. Not there. Not in
the bathroom or his closet either. He circled around through the living room,
into the kitchen and found them beside the back door. That’s right. He’d mowed
the lawn and taken them off because they were full of grass. Quickly he opened
the door and slapped them, soles together, until most of the dried grass had
fallen off.

Shoes on, he grabbed his keys, patted his
back pocket to be sure he had his wallet and headed out the door.

“What’re we shopping for?” John asked,
closing the door gingerly lest it fall off its rusty hinges. The screech of
metal on metal made him wince. “A can of WD-40, I hope.”

“Suppose I probably should give her a
splash on that door.”

“More like a quart.”

Will pulled out of the drive and headed
down the street, both windows rolled down in the summer heat. John didn’t
bother protesting, The AC had stopped working on this old thing long ago. He
looked over at his friend and shook his head.

“I cannot see Jill allowing you to keep
this rust bucket.”

Will’s grin showed his dimples. Jill had
often told John it was those dimples that caught her eye and his skill with a
rope that captured her heart. Lauren had dimples like that. Would Lauren
appreciate John’s skill with a rope? Or would she call the cops on him?

“Jill knows better than to come between a
man and his vehicle.”

John snorted. “This beast long ago lost the
privilege of being called a vehicle.” A movement near his foot caught his eye
and he sat back in surprise. “Is that a hole in the floor?”

“Yeah, it’s new. One of the reasons I’m
headed to the store. Figured a strong piece of plywood’ll do it.”

“Do what? Will, I feel like Barney Rubble.
Are you sure Dino’s not in the backseat?”

Will laughed outright at that and turned
onto the highway. “Hold on, you’re liable to feel a draft.”

Between the wide-open windows and the air
rushing up through the hole in the floor, John didn’t even make an attempt at
conversation. Will’s dirty-blonde hair, kept in a tidy ponytail for the
summer’s reenacting, stayed out of his face. John didn’t have that problem. Too
many years in the service trained him to like it nearly nonexistent and easy.

They pulled in to the hardware store and
John went in with his friend. Inside they parted ways as Will went in search of
a short-term solution to his newly air-conditioned truck and John just wandered
until he found himself in the rope aisle thinking of Lauren.

The first day they’d met he’d told her he
would tie her up and make love to her all night long. When he’d said it, he
really hadn’t had much more than a fun night in the sack in mind. Then she’d
gotten skittish over his time in the military. When followed up by a panic
attack, it just hadn’t seemed right to prey on her vulnerability.

He picked up the end of a particularly
thick white rope and considered it. This would be good for an overall tie. A
loose one, anyway. Pretty hard to make tight knots with something that thick.
He imagined Lauren’s skin crisscrossed with the white and let the rope drop.
No. Her coloring needed something with a little more contrast.

A slightly thinner black rope had
possibilities. This would look quite good wrapped around her body, securing
her, keeping her safe.

Will came up beside him and John dropped
the rope back into place. With a sigh. “Probably going too fast to tie her up
in that yet. I don’t even know if she’s going to like her sex kinky.”

“Jill likes it. I bought fifty feet and she
made me come back for fifty more.”

“It works well?”

Will nodded. “Very well. She can’t get out
of it at all.”

“I’ll definitely keep it in mind. Did you
get your plywood?”

“Yep. They’re cutting it to size now.”

The two sauntered over to the counter and
picked up the makeshift floor. As they left the store, John glanced back and
grinned. “You try telling women hardware stores are sexy places to shop.”

“They’re the best! Come on, let’s get this
in.”

Together they slid the precut plywood into
place on the floor. John sat on the seat and tried it out, stomping on it to
test it.

“Okay, don’t stomp too hard or I’ll need a
bigger piece of wood. There’s rust falling every time you stomp,” Will told
him.

“I think you need a new truck, Will.”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

* * * * *

Will dropped him back at his place. “Don’t
forget, two weekends from now—huge reenactment coming up.”

John made a face. “It’s on my calendar.
Wouldn’t miss the one hundred fiftieth anniversary of Antietam.”

“Next few years are going to be packed with
reenactments. You got in at just the right time, newbie.” Will grinned and
shook his head. “They’re expecting a couple thousand of us. Gonna be one hell
of a weekend, I’ll tell you that.”

“Jill coming?”

“You betcha. She’s got a dress and
everything. Hey! Bring Lauren!”

John laughed and got out of the truck. “One
step at a time, bud. One step at a time.”

“Have fun tying up Lauren!”

John shut the door and Will’s truck wheezed
and sputtered down the drive. Shaking his head, he went inside to examine his
bag of bondage toys and make some decisions about how to craft the best scene
for a newbie of a different sort.

Chapter Five

Lauren dressed casually, looking as if
she’d just thrown on a few things suitable for dinner at a local pub. She wore
a full, flowered skirt that swished when she walked, a matching solid T-shirt
in soft rose and a celery-green scarf that picked up the colors of her skirt.
She wore flat sandals of dark brown, her hair gently pulled back from her face
with the artful use of combs and a pair of cloisonné earrings dangled at her
ears. Of course, it had taken three outfit changes, several hairstyles and no
fewer than six different pairs of earrings to achieve this thrown-together
look.