Loving Again(22)

                Taking the washcloth she was holding, he soaped it up and then he began to rub the cloth over her breasts and abdomen. “There’s a difference between depending on someone else to take care of you and sharing things that worry you with someone who cares about you.”

                “It doesn’t feel like I’m just sharing. More like I’m depending.”

                “Am I complaining?”

                “No, you’re … oh, God, you’re … ”

                He drew her against him and made long, lingering strokes down her back and butt with the washrag.

                “You’re changing the subject,” she said.

                “Is that bad?” The washcloth was on the floor and his arms were around her waist in less time than it took to draw a breath. The kiss he gave her wasn’t a sweet “good morning” kiss. It was more an “I want you right now” kiss. When he broke from it, he asked, “How about changing the subject to this?” He retrieved the condom he’d put on the soap dish and handed it to her.

                “How?”

                “I’ll show you. Cover me.” She tore open the packet and rolled the condom over him. Light as she was, he didn’t have any trouble lifting her so she could wrap her legs around his waist. As he pressed her against the wall of the shower, he went back to kissing her, doing to her mouth what he desperately wanted to do to her body — make love with fierce intensity. But he had to be sure she was comfortable with the idea. He drew back far enough to look deep into her eyes, trying to see.

                “It’s okay, baby,” he said. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

                “I know I am. Believe me, I know.”

                For the first time he could see in her eyes the beginning of what he wanted to see there — not just passion but trust.

                Carefully, his back to the shower so he took the brunt of the spray, he slowly guided her onto the tip of his rock-hard penis, wanting to give her the time she needed to feel comfortable. But he didn’t have to. She was there already.

                She ground her hips against him, her nails bit into his shoulder, the passionate moans she was making echoing in the shower. That’s what pushed him over the edge — the sounds. With one thrust he was inside her, driving himself in up to the hilt. In what seemed like only a few moments, they both found release.

                When he could feel her breathing return to normal, he lowered her to the floor, still maintaining his hold on her until she was again in control of her rubbery muscles. Even then he didn’t want to let go of her. He kept one arm around her as he rinsed them both off and turned off the water. He pulled a bath sheet off the towel rack and dried first her, then himself off.

                They stepped out of the shower and he wrapped a fresh towel around his middle. As he watched her wrap herself up in the bath sheet, he said, “Whatever happens, I want you to know you can rely on me. Not to make it all go away but to be there when you need me.”

                “You’ve been there for me since the first time I saw you, Sam. I wish I could say I’d returned the favor.”

                • • •

                “Amanda, I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you looking so splendid,” Mr. Todd said as he sat across from her at the dining room table in his floating home at a marina on the Columbia River. The sliding glass door, which framed snow-topped Mt. Hood in the distance, was open slightly to let in a breeze. The river was alive with sailboats and wave-runners jockeying for air and space.