were small, but nicely round. Her nipples were dark and smooth.
“What a babe,” she whispered. Smiling, she added, “A babe in heat.”
Her sweaty body glistened golden in the candlelight as if she’d been rubbed with melted butter.
She took another drink of water, then slid the dripping glass against her left breast. Its icy touch made her gasp and arch her back. As her nipple grew hard, she glided the glass over her other breast.
She rubbed her face with it, then drank the last of the water and filled her mouth with the remnants of the ice cubes. She set her glass down on the nightstand beside the candle.
Bending over the bed, she narrowed her eyes at the clock radio.
10:25
Any second now.
She crawled on to the bed, flopped over and sprawled out.
“Come and get it,” she muttered. Squirming, she raised her knees and spread her legs wide. Then she huffed quietly. “Right,” she muttered.
She lowered her knees, sat up and reached beyond her feet for the top sheet. Holding its edge, she eased down onto her back. Then she swept the sheet high and let it float down. It settled lightly, covering her body almost to the shoulders.
“Ready when you are,” she said.
She listened for the sounds of Duane’s approach.
She stood no chance of hearing his car. From here in the bedroom, she probably wouldn’t be able to hear his footsteps in the hallway, either. She might hear his keys when he unlocked the front door. If not, the sounds of the door shutting behind him ought to reach her.
Unless he gets sneaky about it.
I probably will hear him come in, she told herself.
But when?
For a long time—or what seemed like a long time—Sherry lay still and listened for him. She heard mostly noises made by the blowing wind. While the curtains lifted and flapped in near silence, the wind outside sounded like a tribe of demented phantoms roaming the neighborhood—moaning, hissing and howling. Wind-grabbed objects bumped and clattered and shook, while others rolled along walkways or streets. Car alarms beeped and tooted. From nearby and far away came the cries of sirens.
What a night, Sherry thought. Sounds like all hell is breaking loose out there.
Why isn’t he back yet?
Rolling onto her side and pushing herself up with an elbow, she looked at the clock.
10:31.
She flopped down again.
She stared at the ceiling. It shimmered in the candlelight.
What time did he leave, anyway? Ten after? Something like that.
He’s been gone more than twenty minutes.
Sherry suddenly felt too hot. Her head was half-buried in the pillow’s moist heat. Her back and buttocks were sticking to the bottom sheet. The top sheet, resting lightly atop her body, walled her away from the caresses of the wind.
She cast the sheet aside and sat up.
And sighed as the wind drifted over her skin like warm, dry hands.
She crossed her legs and straightened her back and rested her hands lightly on her thighs.
I’ll just sit like this till I hear him come in.
She sat there and waited. The roaming wind dried her sweat. She felt almost cool—except for her rump, which was pressed against the hot, moist bottom sheet.
After a while, she longed to look over her shoulder at the clock.
She resisted the urge.
She kept on resisting the urge.
He’ll be here any second, she told herself.
Finally, she looked.
10:41.
She grimaced.
He’s been gone half an hour, she thought. The damn store’s only two blocks away. He could’ve walked and gotten back ten minutes ago.
Something went wrong.
He was in a wreck or walked into a hold-up or…
Wait!
She suddenly huffed out a laugh.
I know what went wrong, she told herself. He got to the Speed-D-Mart all right, no trouble, but found out that they didn’t carry condoms. So he headed off for some other all-night store. LA was jammed with convenience stores, mini-marts and even grocery stores that remained open twenty-four hours a day.
Some guys might give up and come back empty-handed, but not Duane.
He won’t come back till he has them.
This might be a very long wait, she thought.
To free her buttocks from the moist heat, she dropped forward. She caught herself with stiff arms. On hands and knees, her rear end stroked by the soothing wind, she resumed her wait.
Thing is, she thought, he knows I expected him back in ten or fifteen minutes. Would he really take off for another store? At the very least, wouldn’t he call and let me know what’s going on?
Maybe, maybe not.
He’s not always the most considerate guy in the world.