Winter's Fyre Page 3

  The afternoon dragged, and before she was aware of it she had drifted off to sleep. It was much later when she awoke to find the fire nearly out in the fireplace, and Wayne sitting in the old wingback chair, watching her.

  "Hi.” She managed a smile as she rubbed her eyes. He was wearing a Philadelphia Eagles t-shirt and a pair of jeans with ragged cuffs. Bare-armed and barefoot, he didn't seem the least bit cold.

  "Hi, yourself."

  "Where have you been?"

  "I was about to you the same question. Where did you go this morning?"

  "Nowhere. I stayed right here.” A little laugh escaped her. “Maybe some giant wall just dropped down between us."

  "Maybe.” He shifted a little in the chair and crossed one ankle over a knee. Shelby smiled again.

  "You're not cold?"

  "Nope. I finally got the heat pump working."

  "Heat pump?"

  "Air conditioner. Heat pump."

  Shelby snorted. “You've lost me. Sorry. We use propane and gas here. And good old-fashioned wood to keep heated."

  Before she forgot, she dumped the needle and scissors back into the sewing kit and closed it.

  "I'm glad you're back."

  "So am I. I missed you."

  Her eyes flew up to his. “You did?"

  "Yeah. Bummer, isn't it?"

  "Bummer?"

  "Bad karma. Bitch of a situation.” He cocked his head.

  "You're not familiar with the current slang, are you?"

  "Afraid not. Sorry."

  There was suddenly a funny ringing sound. To Shelby it reminded her of a child running a mallet up and down a toy xylophone. Wayne excused himself and pulled the shiny thing out of his pocket, opening it up before placing it against his ear.

  "Yeah, David. Uh-huh. I'm fine, thanks. Yeah, it's colder than a well digger's butt up here. Yeah. Okay, sounds good. Look, you and Tina have a wonderful Christmas, and I'll call you on Monday. How's that sound? Okay? Great! Okay. Merry Christmas, partner!” He closed the silvery object and shoved it back into his pocket.

  "Partner?” she managed to ask. How much was she allowed to pry? What had he been talking into? A walkie-talkie?

  "David Frells. He's the business half of Winter Renovations. I scout out and do the renovating. He's in charge of buying and selling the properties. I have the brawn; he's the brains."

  "Yeah, but who thought up the partnership in the first place?” she smiled.

  "Me. We were roommates in college. He was getting his business degree."

  "What were you studying?"

  "Promise not to laugh? Music."

  "You're kidding."

  "Nope. Got my primary degree in piano, and my secondary degree in business.” He waved his hand at the room.

  "And I ended up using neither of them."

  "Where did you learn carpentry and all?"

  "From my dad. He used to do contracting work for a builder in town."

  "In Philadelphia?"

  Wayne frowned. “Close. York. How'd you know...?"

  Shelby pointed to his shirt and laughed. He glanced down, noticed the emblem, and joined her. After a few moments, the room grew quiet again, but it was a comfortable quiet. A companionable silence.

  "Wayne?"

  "What?"

  "What was that silver thing you talked into?"

  "What silver ... oh, you mean my cell?"

  "Your what?"

  "My cell phone. Oh, come on, Shelby! Don't tell me you've never seen a cell phone!"

  "No.” She shook her head. “I've never heard of one, either. Are they new?"

  "New? My God, just about every person in the world practically owns one!"

  She laughed nervously. “Well, I guess technology must have missed Maple Cove, because no one here owns one. And I'm willing to bet no one here has ever seen one, either."

  "You're kidding,” Wayne asked in a voice that sounded like he almost didn't believe her.

  "Why would I kid you?"

  He rubbed his chin for a moment. In the firelight, the day's growth gave his face a strong profile. Shelby found herself staring at him unabashedly.

  "Maybe things are different on your side of this world,” he finally commented.

  "Huh?"

  "Yeah. Maybe you being alive in your world isn't the only thing that's different from my side."

  "What do you mean?"

  Lowering his leg, Wayne shifted in the chair and leaned over, bracing his elbows on his knees. “I'm going to mention a few things on this side, and you tell me if you have them on your side as well. Game?"

  "Sure. Go ahead."

  "Umm, computers."

  "Oh, yeah. We have them,” Shelby smiled.

  "You have a computer in the house?"

  "Oh, nonono! Geez, this is just a house, not a freaking warehouse!"

  "What do you mean?” he asked, his brows lowered in confusion. “Where is your computer?"

  "My computer! Oh, Wayne, everyone knows those big old things are too big to fit into a house. But I think there's some up in Washington. And in Miami."

  "Miami? Why in Miami?"

  "'Cause that's where the rocket ships are launched, silly. Everyone knows that."

  She watched as his confused look turned into extreme puzzlement. “All right. How about, umm, microwave ovens?"

  "Got one in the kitchen."

  "Satellite TV?"

  "Satellite what?"

  He shook his head. “Never mind. How about CDs?"

  "What are those?” she asked, truly bewildered by the term.

  "Music disks. Like a record, except smaller. Do you have any recorded music?"

  "Oh, yeah. On LPs and cassettes."

  "No, shit!” He looked positively blown away. “Do you have DVDs? No, of course not. If there are no CDs on your side, how would the technology have grown to include DVDs?"

  "What are DVDs?"

  "Recorded movies. You go to a movie rental store, check them out like you would a library book, and bring them home to watch,” he told her.

  "We have something like that,” Shelby told him, “except we have them on cassette, too."

  "Figures."

  They both laughed again, albeit nervously. Presently Shelby folded the quilt and laid it on the end of the couch. “It's getting late."

  "It's Christmas Eve, Shelby. Don't go."

  His voice was soft. Poignant. It glued her to her seat as surely as if he was physically holding her there. She looked up into his eyes to find them dark and unreadable in the dimming firelight.

  "Shelby?” he whispered, unmoving.

  "What?” she whispered in return.

  "I'm afraid."

  Afraid. Oh, God, is this what this terrible feeling was that she felt growing inside her? “So am I."

  "What if you're not here tomorrow? What if today was just a...” He hesitated.

  "A dream?” she supplied.

  Wayne slowly shook his head. “A fluke. A nightmare. Because there's no way to have you. Because this could be it, and there is no way, I can ever be with you again after tonight. No way we can ever be together."

  Her throat was starting to close up on her again. Not to mention the sting of tears in her eyes and nose. Shelby sniffed and wiped the errant wetness from her cheeks.

  "Don't think that. Don't ... Wayne? Am I making you up? Am I delusional?"

  "If you are, then this delusion is going both ways. Shelby, may I ask a favor of you?"

  She sniffed again, nodding.

  "It's a big one. A very personal one."

  That remark got a short laugh out of her.

  "Hey, it couldn't be much more personal than it's already been."

  "Maybe,” he nodded and grew very serious. “I want to make love to you."

  She froze, staring at him. He meant every word he said, and the thought of what he wanted to do to her, with her, sent a thrill throughout her entire body. “H-how? We can't touch."

  "I think I know a way,” Wayn
e told her as he got to his feet. “Follow me into the bedroom."

  * * * *

  He was standing at the foot of the bed when she walked in. For some silly reason she couldn't explain, Shelby closed the door behind her before walking over to the bed. “How are we...” she began.

  He looked as nervous as she felt.

  "Well, since we can't touch, that's out. And we can't inhabit each other's space, or one of us disappears. Shelby, have you ever had phone sex?"

  Just as she knew she would, a bright heat flushed her face.

  "No, but I've heard about it."

  "Then pretend this is a very long-distance phone call ... with television thrown in,” he grinned. “I'm going to tell you what to do, and if there's anything you want to add to it or ask me to do, just tell me. If this is the only way we can love each other, I'm willing to take whatever I can and whatever you're willing to give in return."

  His voice was soothing yet mesmerizing at the same time. She could feel the tingling sensations already starting to beat a pattern between her inner thighs.

  "Take your shirt off, Shelby. We're going to take this slow and easy. Don't be afraid,” he whispered.

  "I'm not."

  She pulled her blouse over her head, enjoying the surprised expression on Wayne's face when he realized she was bra-less. Dropping her top to the floor, she lifted her breasts with her hands, much to his delight.

  "Wow. They're beautiful, Shelby. Damn, what I wouldn't give to touch them.” He reached inside his pants, already grabbing himself in response. “Tweak your nipples, honey. I want to see you turn yourself on."

  This was so strange, playing with herself in front of him. But he was right—it was the only way they would be able to make love to each other. It was masturbation at the most voyeuristic level. And it was turning her on like nothing before ever had.

  She played with her breasts, lifting and separating them, and using her thumb and forefinger to roll her nipples until they were pointed pink tips. At the foot of the bed, Wayne continued to clutch himself. She could tell he was on the verge of stroking, but holding back to give them the chance to savor the uniqueness of the situation.

  "Oh, yeah, honey. Umm, yeah. Bend over a little and shake them. I want to see them swing."

  Bending slightly at the waist, Shelby let her breasts move freely, and Wayne sucked in a breath.

  "Jesus, they're so natural, so full. You have beautiful breasts, honey."

  His hand continued to give himself rhythmic comfort as he held onto one of the corner posters at the foot of the bed.

  "Take your pants off. Slowly."

  Hey, this was getting to be fun. A side of herself she never knew existed was beginning to emerge, and Shelby found herself moving her hips with a little more umph, just to see his eyes widen. Hooking her thumbs into the waistband, she slid her sweats and panties off together, easing the material one slow, seductive inch at a time. Wayne groaned in response as the first line of curls popped up over the waistband. Then, when she stopped right there with her pussy nearly all the way revealed, Shelby paused and gave him an impish grin.

  "Your turn. Slowly."

  He struggled with the zipper as his hands were visibly shaking. Not to mention his hard-on straining the fabric of his jeans. Carefully he tried to lower his pants like she had, but his erection had other ideas, springing out and wavering up and down like a tumescent diving board.

  Shelby stared at the reddish cock, and her mouth suddenly began filling with saliva. She had never taken a man in her mouth before, but now she seriously wished she could. He looked so lick-able. Tasty. And the damn thing was swelling even further the longer she stared at.

  "Like it, honey?” his edgy voice asked. “Wish you could suck on it?"

  She nodded slowly. “Yeah. Oh, yeah."

  "Wish you could stroke your tongue over it?” Wayne tempted her.

  His large hand closed over the tight flesh and lightly pumped it. A bright bead of moisture emerged from the head. Before she could answer, he let his pants drop to the floor, and he cupped his testicles with his other hand.

  "I'm going to pretend you can, Shelby. I'm going to pretend I'm stuffing my dick all the way past those full lips of yours and feeling your tongue ride underneath where it's the most sensitive."

  He pumped himself again, and damn if his cock didn't get bigger!

  "Drop your pants, honey. I want to see your sweet pussy."

  Shrugging out of her sweats, Shelby climbed on top of the bed, and Wayne positioned himself at the foot directly in front of her. Propping up the pillows, she leaned against the headboard and spread her legs, bending them at the knees. Wayne continued to glide his hand over his stiff cock with the purplish head pointed directly at her entrance.

  "Spread your pussy lips, honey. Take your fingers and touch your clit. Rub it. Yeah, that's right. Like that. Jesus, you're so beautiful. So sweet and ripe. Oh, yeah. Keep touching yourself, just like that. I can see your cream already forming around your love tunnel, honey."

  His voice was a major turn-on. And although she had brought herself to climax before, she had never done so in front of a man. Peering through slitted eyes, she could see the look of coming bliss on his face. His eyes caught hers, and he smiled.

  "Talk dirty to me, Shelby. Tell me how much you want me to shove my cock into you, over and over until you scream."

  "I want you to fuck me,” she admitted shyly. “I want to have you hard and hot on top of me, and then hard and hot inside me."

  This kind of sex was quickly drawing her to a release. She could already feel that first faint spark of an orgasm as she continued to run her fingers over her drenched pussy and its hard little nub.

  Wayne managed to nod. The shine of sweat dotting his forehead was evident in the glare of the overhead light.

  "And I want to be hard and hot on top of you. I want to stick my cock into that tight pussy so badly. Shit, woman, this is so fucking unfair. Uhhgh!"

  He was close to coming. Tiny pearls were rolling out of the end of his penis. Closing her eyes, she let the soaring feeling of her release build up as Wayne's voice rolled over her with hot anticipation.

  "Yeah, honey. I'm fucking you. I'm pounding my stiff dick inside your perfect pussy. Feel it, honey. Feel me fucking you. Feel me shoving harder and harder, faster and faster. Oh, Shelby. Spread your legs, honey. I want to see it all. I want to see you squirt when you come, and I want to hear you scream. Let's go, honey. Give it to me. Give it to me. Squeeze me with that pink little pussy until I squirt everything I've got into you. Ohhh, what I wouldn't give to lick that sweet cream coming out of your cunt."

  His hips were bucking, as were hers. She finally had to close her eyes as the build-up ruptured. The orgasm rammed into her. Shelby shoved two fingers into her spasming cunt and tapped the inner walls. Her G spot screamed, prolonging her release, and Shelby cried out in a ragged voice.

  Vaguely she could hear Wayne bringing himself. She opened her eyes in time to see a series of white spurts arc into the air and disappear into nothingness less than a foot above her. He gasped, then let out a low moan of satisfaction. Pivoting around, he parked his buttocks on the footboard and fell back onto the mattress. Subconsciously, Shelby jerked her feet away from him to keep him from vanishing as well. As the waves of bliss began to subside, she continued to rub herself, keeping her nerve endings riding on that bright, high edge of satisfaction.

  As time passed, her breathing slowed, but it was Wayne who spoke first.

  "That was wonderful and shitty at the same time."

  "I know what you mean.” Drawing her knees up, she rolled over so she could see him. His dick was limp and lying on his thigh. Even in that condition, her fingers itched to touch it.

  "Shelby?"

  "Yeah?"

  "If tomorrow you're gone, do me a favor?"

  "Don't ... don't talk like that,” she hurried to stop him. “Don't jinx it."

  "But it's possible, Shel. Today may be o
ur only shot. Or maybe not."

  "What do you mean?"

  He turned his head and opened her eyes to look at her.

  "In my timeline, you died. But in your timeline, I may be alive."

  Her stomach clenched with his words. In her timeline? Oh, God, did she even dare to hope? The only way she could cope would be to refuse to acknowledge the possibility.

  "You could also be married. Or gay."

  That much got a chuckle out of him.

  "Trust me, Shelby. I could be many things, but gay would not be one of them. No, honey. I want you to promise me that if you don't, I mean if I don't show up tomorrow, that you'll come looking for me."

  "I promise,” she said.

  What else could she say? Them being together in the first place was a miracle. Like it was a wish she'd made ... ... on a Christmas star. Shelby rose up on one elbow to stare at the figure lying so close to her. Close but too damn far away.

  "I promise,” she repeated. “But you have to do me a favor in return."

  "Deal. What?"

  "If I find you, you'll take me out to dinner, and then take me home and make love to me for real."

  Grinning, Wayne shifted onto his side.

  "I'll do the best I can. Meanwhile, until the clock runs out, roll over and let me have a go at your cute ass, Shelby. I want to jack off imagining what it would be like to take you from behind. And maybe add a little anal action in the bargain."

  Giggling, Shelby rolled over and prepared herself for another scorching release.

  * * * *

  When Christmas morning filtered into the room, Shelby slowly opened her eyes to the gloomy light. At some point during the night she had slipped underneath the electric blanket and quilt to keep herself from getting chilled.

  A glance out the window proved her first intuition to be correct. It was still snowing, although the winds had stopped whipping around the corner of the house. The silent hush amplified the tiny creaks and shifting movements of the place. Plus there was a total absence of anything cooking. Except for herself, the inn felt completely empty.

  "Wayne?"

  There was no answer. Although she had half-expected him to be gone, the realization that he had completely and finally vanished from the inn and out of her life was too depressing to accept. Rising out of bed, she fought the tears that rolled down her cheeks and hurried into the bathroom to wash her face.