Part 87 – Candace’s p.o.v.
I didn’t expect to go there, but that boldness had popped out of me. I was daring him, waiting for him to back down.
A second later, Richard stood at the door. In the shadows, I covered myself with my arms and hands, then turned my back to him with my body slightly quivering. The hall light was turned off, and the night light was turned on.
He asked, “Are you ready?”
I said, “Only if I can trust you.”
I closed my eyes. When he touched my back and rubbed it, it tingled. I asked myself what was I getting myself into, inviting him into my bathroom while I sat in my bath tub naked in a tub of soapy water? Months ago this would have terrified me. Not now. My blood rushed. Underneath my coolness, I was really nervous.
Richard reached past me, moved his hands like he was reaching to cop a feel on my 36Cs. I jumped a little. But he took the bar of soap from the holder, soaped my face towel washcloth, then gently washed my back, circling clockwise, then counterclockwise. He scooped water into his hands then rinsed my skin. Slow and easy, taking his time. He moved into more personal territory and massaged my shoulders.
He hit a spot in the back of my neck that made me mmmm and slightly arch my back.
He asked me, “Why are you smiling so hard?”
I told him, “Why didn’t you ask me for my number again?”
He said, “I asked once.”
I told him, “Ask again.”
He replied, “Once is asking, twice is begging.”
“You’re not going to beg?” I turned so he couldn’t see.
He said, “If I begged, you’d never respect me.”
I said, “Some things are worth begging for.”
He said, “Some things are worth giving when asked for.”
Richard stopped massaging my back and sat on the floor. He took my wine cooler bottle and handed it to me.
I asked him, Where is your girlfriend?”
He said, “We broke up.”
I said, “Too bad.”
He asked, “For who?”
I shrugged. “For whoever regrets it.”
He said, “I’ll adjust. She’ll get over it.”
I asked, "Do you love her?"
He answered, "Infatuated beyond reason."
I have never heard that response before. It sounded so real. Infatuation, not love.
I asked, "Rub my shoulders again?"
He started again. And for some reason this time, it stimulated me.
"Better?" he asked.
"Mmmmmm. Yeah. You should do this for a living."
He said, "I thought you were about to fall asleep."
"I could have. You have strong hands, but they are so gentle at the same time."
He said, "You have soft skin."
"Oil of Olay keeps me that way." I enjoyed the soft kittenish tone of our conversation. I asked a silly question, "So Richard, are you flirting with me?"
He answered, "I'm not your type."
I flicked wet fingers at him, splashed water on his face.
He asked, "Where's your boyfriend?"
I said, "You saw him."
He asked, "Are you two going to get back together?"
I answered a resounding, "Hell no!"
He said, "You sound like you're getting a little hostile."
I responded, "Men make me the way I am."
He said, "And how are you?"
I hunched my shoulders, asked, "Even when you have somebody, do you ever feel like you don't have anybody?"
"Yes."
I said, "Like the relationship just isn't all that?"
"Yes," Richard said. "I can be with somebody, just finished, you know..."
I filled in the blank and said, "Getting your thing on."
"Yeah. And still feel alone."
I offered him my wine cooler. "Want some?"
He said, "No. I don't drink much."
I answered, "Neither do I. Mainly when I'm pissed or stressed."
He asked, "Which are you now?"
I said, "I'm not sure."
I used my toes to grip the chain that connected to the stopper and pulled it out of the tub. I listened to the sound of the water whirling out of the tub. Naked. Soap on my body, my eyes on Richard. I stood there. Water and suds rained from me. I enjoyed watching him watch me.
I said, "Hand me my robe from behind the door."
He handed it to me. I took my time putting my robe on, and when I did, I let the belt hang loose. The fabric clung to my damp skin, outlined my body, gave the appearance of being nude.
Satin against wet and soft flesh.
I was exhilarated but I kept my feelings in check.
Richard asked, "What are you thinking?"
I hadn't had a decent lover in a while, and my body was starting to crave satisfaction the way an alcoholic craved alcohol.
I answered him, "I'm thinking..." I took a breath and eased away. "It's getting late. Maybe I've had a bit too much to drink. And..."
Richard waited. "And what?"
I dropped my head, took my eyes off his, blocked him out of the gateway to my soul. "Come on Richard, you know the rest."
He answered, "The feeling is mutual."
Richard invited me closer and kissed my forehead. He kissed me like he was kissing his little sister. I rose on my tiptoe and kissed his forehead, then sprinkled light kisses on his lips, testing. Then I opened my mouth and invited him. I will admit it was awkward at first, but the second kiss had a natural flow. I felt him adapting, slowing, and tasting. I did the same, adjusted to his rhythm. I pulled him closer, felt him start to stiffen up, and he pulled me closer, and I thought I felt something hard. Then I eased away in the middle of the kiss. I hoped he'd resist me moving my body away from him, but he didn't.
He stared, mouth open like he was ready to whisper.
If only he knew, I wanted more, some more, and then some.
He swallowed whatever he was thinking. Richard gave me another kiss in my forehead. He then said, "Good night."
I said, "Thanks for everything."
He said, "You're welcome. I'll look at your laptop some other time. I have a ton of software that you might want to check out."
I said, "Okay, it sounds like a plan."
He headed out the front door.
A typhoon was swirling around me. I gazed at him through my living room blinds, watched him as he adjusted his pants and strolled toward his car. I adjusted my robes.
"Richard," I whispered as delicate as a flower petal. "I know you're going to look back to see if I'm looking."
He kept moving away from my life.
I said, "I have power. And respect. You better recognize that."
Then he glanced back from his car and saw my silhouette pondering down on him. From where I stood, the way his face looked flushed under the streetlights, I felt him, his energy, sensed that his breathing was just as disturbed as mine. He paused, stared like he couldn't decide which way to go.
All he could see was my shape, couldn't feel the mixed-up part of me that was wondering what kind of signal I'd just put out, couldn't see the tears that were in my swollen eyes.
He waved.
So did I.
With slow, heavy steps he moved to his car.
Richard drove off.
I stood there, staring at the spot where he had parked.
I spoke over the lump in my throat. "Twice is begging."
