Seems Like Old Times Read online

  He took her hand as they climbed the stairs. He opened the door, pulled her into the room, then pushed the door shut behind him. Only then did he stop moving long enough to look at her.

  "Finally," he whispered, echoing her thoughts, as he cupped her face with his hands and kissed her reverently, almost like a benediction. "Your taste, your scent, the way you feel in my hands...it’s familiar, but strange. I feel as if you’re going to disappear on me. That this is all a dream."

  "That’s how I feel, too," she said. "Promise me you won’t vanish and I’ll do the same."

  "I promise," he whispered.

  She smiled, then noticed he was frowning at her. "What is it?"

  "Your dress." He put a hand to his chin, studying it. "I’ve never helped someone out of anything so expensive. I don’t want to hurt it."

  She spun around feeling like she was floating. "It’s got a zipper--just like normal dresses."

  "Is that so, m’lady?" In one quick motion, he unzipped the dress.

  "Yes, James," she said in her best upper-crust accent. "You may remove my gown now."

  He helped her slide it off, then kissed her bare shoulder. "I believe I already have, m’lady."

  As she placed the dress on a chair, he removed his shirt and tie, shoes and socks. She had to smile. As teenagers, they hadn’t worried about her prom dress or his rented tuxedo. She guessed this was another sign that they’d matured.

  In the bedroom fireplace, logs and kindling had been stacked. He touched a match to the papers under the kindling, then shut the bedroom lights. She watched as he crouched, coaxing the fire to burn stronger. She wondered if he felt the same nervousness she did, if that was why he suddenly found other things to do. As he turned toward her, the silver crucifix around his neck glistened in the firelight. He looked disheveled, sexy, and completely irresistible.

  She stepped toward him, covered by a black slip of satin and lace. She no longer had the eighteen-year-old body he had known. Her breasts were heavier, her hips wider, her bones were more pronounced and she sagged here and there. She came to him a mature, experienced woman now, at ease with her body and every nuance of her needs, far more than she ever had been as a teenager.

  As she looked at him, she saw the changes to his body as well--the thickening of his chest, and the black hair that spanned it where he’d been naked as a jaybird in his teens. The arms that used to be long and lanky, were hard with muscles, as were his thighs. His stomach was a washboard of powerful sinew. Even his voice was deeper, gruffer. Everything about him seemed bigger, sleeker, stronger...more masculine and sexier than ever.

  "Lisa," he stood and walked toward her. As he put his arms around her, he seemed to sense her uneasiness. "Come and sit by the fire."

  A white flokati rug was in front of the hearth and she sat on it, her legs curled under her, facing the fire. Tony knelt behind her and removed the pins from her hair, one by one. When they were out, her hair fell thick and lush past her shoulders. He raked his fingers through it like a comb. She tilted her head back, her eyes shut, enjoying the sweet sensuousness of the feeling.

  He moved closer, settling her hips between his knees. His hands went from her hair to her neck, surrounding it, then slid forward over her chest to cover her breasts. She arched back against his solid chest. Her eyes shut as his kisses ranged along her neck and ear, his hands and fingers stroking and caressing her.

  She turned in his arms, seeking his mouth. The jolt that hit her each time they kissed came again, stronger still now.

  He slid the straps of her slip off her shoulders and arms, then unhooked her bra and removed it. He lowered his head to her breasts. She swayed pliantly, a moan sounding deep in her throat from the teasing, aching pleasure of it. Her hands went to his head and her fingers gripped his hair.

  He raised his head, then placed his dark hand over her milk white breast. She followed his gaze and looked down. His hand slowly slid lower over her stomach, pushing the slip down further as he reached her black garter belt. He placed his hand over it. She sucked in her breath.

  "Want me, Lisa," he whispered. "The way I've want you since I first saw you last week."

  She stood and let the slip fall to the floor. She removed her shoes and stood before him wearing nothing but gray silk stockings and the belt. She took his hand and he stood, then she unbuckled the leather belt at his waist and unfastened the button of his trousers. Her eyes held his as she placed her hand flat against him, feeling the hardness, the thickness and the length of him.

  He felt her touch like an electric jolt. His arms went around her tight, his mouth pressed hard to hers as he backed her onto his bed, then quickly shed the rest of his clothes. As she reached down to unfasten a garter, he stopped her, doing it himself. Slowly, he lowered one silk stocking, then the next.

  She ached for him, wanting him inside her, sure that his merest touch would be enough to drive her over the edge.

  He kneeled on the bed beside her, holding her wrists. "You are more beautiful than ever," he said.

  "So are you," she replied. "Handsome, that is."

  He grinned at that and she lifted her arms to him. She reveled in the feel of his smooth, muscular body hot against hers. She ached to touch him everywhere, but hesitated.

  "Don't be shy with me," he said, stroking her ribs, her waist, her hipbone. "Who knows you better? Who thinks you're more beautiful?"

  Hearing those words, if she'd ever had any defenses against Tony, they were gone now.

  His tongue drew circles from her neck to her breasts. Daggers pierced her and she twisted toward him, pulling him closer. He ran his hands over the sensitive skin along her hips to her thighs. Her insides throbbed for him.

  Her fingers slowly traced along his chest downward, until she felt the silky, male part of him, now hard and swollen.

  You feel like velvet, she'd exclaimed years ago in her innocence.

  Only Santos are velvet, he'd answered. Other men are scaly, with stickers.

  Yes, she thought. Maybe so. She lifted her mouth to his, beckoning, demanding, pleading. It seemed she had waited her life for this moment, for this man.

  He plundered her mouth as his thigh parted her legs. She moaned with pleasure at his touch, at the building pressure within her. He scarcely lost a beat as he put on a condom, his hands, his mouth, seemed everywhere on her, and each place they found was more sensitive than the last. He played her body until she thought she might die from the sheer ecstasy of his caress. As he entered, she opened herself wide, wanting to feel him high, wanting as much of him as she could hold, wanting every part of him, body and soul, to be hers.

  Their reunion was all fire and energy. Tony had exploded into her world, broke down her barriers, her defenses, leaving her to deal with him with honesty and with an overwhelming sense of trust. His lovemaking was the same--open and honest. Holding him was like holding lightning in her arms. He was more thrilling, more stirring, more loving, than any man she had ever known. A lost part of herself was found, old memories captured, new ones created. Her Tony.

  She felt like a fool when her eyes filled with tears, but the rightness of the moment, more than the ecstasy, and more than the passion, touched her heart.

  He lay on her side, his head propped up, hand to elbow, the firelight flickering over his features. "How can I let you go again?" he whispered, brushing a stray lock of soft blonde hair back from her face.

  "I wish I could stay," she admitted. "But..."

  "I know." He stopped her with a kiss. "I understand."

  She didn't go home that night. One night to build a lifetime of dreams on, he had said, and she didn't want it to end.

  At two in the morning, they shared a huge bowl of strawberry ripple ice cream. At two-thirty they each drank a beer, and by three, each suffered a horrible stomachache. Soon after, they found a new cure for stomach troubles. At four, they splashed in a bubble bath, laughing and loving, and by five, they were sound asleep in each other's arms.

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nbsp; Chapter 16

  Lee awoke to a room filled with sunshine. She twisted around to look at the clock on the nightstand--9:30 a.m.--then back at Tony. His arm around her was warm, tucking her against him as if to be sure she wouldn't run off during the night. As if she'd want to.

  Others probably saw him as merely handsome, but his features were, to her eye, as close to perfect as any she'd ever seen. The shadow of his beard showed on his chin and cheeks, and even that added to his attractiveness.

  The arm he had flung over her lay across her midriff, just below her breasts, his leg crossed her thighs. As her awareness grew of his body, she could feel changes taking place in hers. She edged closer to him, part of her not wanting to awaken him, but another, stronger part, needed to feel him inside her again. As she moved closer, causing his arm to ease higher on her body, she could feel her nipples harden. A hot moisture formed within her as she neared the juncture of his legs.

  Voices in the distance, growing ever louder, caught her attention.

  "Tony," she whispered. "Tony, wake up!"

  "What?" he mumbled.

  The front door opened. "Dad?" Ben called.

  She touched his shoulder. "Tony! It's Ben, wake up!"

  He opened his eyes, heavy with sleep, looked at her, then heard Ben's footsteps running up the stairs.

  "Dad, are you awake?" Ben was closer.

  "Holy sh !" Tony leaped from the bed and twisted the lock on his bedroom door just a second before Ben ran into the door, hitting against it with a thud when it didn't open for him.

  "Dad, what the hell's going on around here?"

  "Watch your language, Benjamin!" Tony called as he grabbed a pair of jeans from his closet and struggled to get them on fast.

  Lee sat up, clutching the sheet to her neck.

  "Why's your door locked? Open up, Dad! What're you doing?"

  "I'll be right out."

  Grabbing a shirt, he leaned over the bed, kissed Lee hard then unlocked the door and slipped out of it, blocking the room from Ben's view.

  "Hey, there, Benito, good to see you. How was it at Grandpa's last night?"

  "Fine. How come your door’s locked?"

  "Is Grandpa down stairs?"

  "Yep."

  Lee breathed again when she heard their footsteps on the stairs. A fine fix, she thought. He didn't want Ben to know she was there--that made sense--but how could she leave without being noticed? Would Ben believe she was an extremely early morning visitor? She got out of bed and picked her underwear up off the floor.

  "I guess I shoulda phoned first, Tony." She heard Vic’s gruff tones. She tiptoed closer to the door and quietly opened it a crack. "I thought you had more sense!"

  "Look, Pa, I need you to spare a little more time this morning, okay? Ben needs a new batting glove, and if you could take him for just a half hour "

  "Oh, please, Grandpa!" Ben said.

  "Yeah, yeah. Go wait in the car, Ben." Lee heard the boy's running footsteps, then the front door opened and slammed shut. "What the hell’s goin’ on here?" Vic demanded.

  "It's all right, Pa!"

  "Yeah? When's she goin’ back to her fancy job? When's she gonna get tired of you this time?"

  Tired of him? Was that how Vic thought she felt about Tony?

  "Keep your voice down, she's not that way," Tony said.

  "Like hell, she’s not!"

  The tension between the two permeated the house. Lee scarcely breathed. "Here," Tony said, his voice gentle. "Take this money and get Ben whatever he wants."

  "She's leaving, isn't she?"

  "Tomorrow. I’m all right, Pa. Don’t worry."

  Lee's fingers pressed against her mouth.

  "I’ll be back in an hour, son." Vic's gruff voice had also turned surprisingly soft. This time, perhaps for the first time, Lee heard beyond Vic’s words. She heard his concern for Tony, his love. She felt her eyes sting.

  After the front door opened then shut, she closed the bedroom door and hurried into the bathroom. She took a quick shower then dressed, the whole time struggling against tears, not even knowing why they wanted to fall, except that she felt so damned bad. Her hands shook so much she could barely manage the zipper, but eventually she was dressed. Another few seconds were lost in agonizing indecision, then she took a few deep breaths, gathered her dignity and composure, and went in search of Tony.

  In the kitchen, coffee was brewing, and he was putting mugs and cream on the table for them. She stood in the doorway, watching him. He was everything she'd remembered all these years --and more.

  He turned quickly, as if sensing her presence, then straightened, the creamer still in his hand. "I'm sorry about the way things were around here this morning. I should have realized Ben would show up."

  She feigned indifference. "No need for apology. Neither one of us was particularly thoughtful last night."

  He put the creamer down, and was in front of her in two steps, her hands in his. "Look, I don't feel bad about last night, and I wouldn't hide the fact that you were here except that kids his age don't realize what it means, and they can go around blurting things out to others. I wouldn't want anything said that could embarrass you, or hurt you."

  What did it mean to you, Tony? She nodded, forcing her mind back to Ben. "I didn't realize..."

  He smiled. "You don't know much about nine year olds, I guess."

  "I'm afraid not."

  He put his hands on her shoulders. "I was glad for last night."

  She met his eyes. "Me, too."

  His fingers tightened just a moment and she thought he was going to take her in his arms once more, but the moment passed, and he let go of her, his expression carefully placid. "Coffee's ready."

  She squeezed her eyes shut. She knew what he was doing and why. She had to do the same. Control. Lee Reynolds was a master at it. She needed that mastery today more than ever.

  "I could use some," she said, hoping her attempt at lightness sounded less feeble to his ear than it did to hers.

  As he turned to get the pot, she stared at his broad back, unaware that he was gazing at her reflection off the glass cabinet. She looked incongruous, yet more desirable than any woman had a right to as, wearing a designer dress, her hair loose against her shoulders, sleepy-eyed, and with lips still puffy from his kisses, she sat at an oak table, surrounded by hanging pots, glass covered shelves of dishes and countertops filled with kitchen appliances.

  He placed their coffee on the table and sat across from her. Over and over he’d told himself that what he felt for her was nothing but horniness--a purely masculine reaction to a hell of a beautiful woman who had once been in love with him. But he’d learned last night that it was more than that.

  He wished he could tell her what was on his mind, but he didn’t have that right.

  "What do you think about me calling you when you’re back there in the Big Apple, Lisa?"

  "I...I honestly don’t know." She knew he’d turned her life upside down, but that was nothing she should admit. "I think it would be best if you didn’t."

  His eyes were solemn. He held up his coffee cup, his face, his body intense. "Here’s to no regrets."

  She clinked her cup to his. "No regrets."

  The room became somber with their parting. They drank their coffee quickly, then left the house.

  Tony was holding the Jeep's door open for her when a car turned onto his driveway. The driver, a thin man with straight, straw colored hair, got out of the car and walked quickly toward him.

  "Mr. Santos?" he asked.

  "Yes."

  "Anthony Santos?"

  Tony put his hands on his hips. "That's right."

  The man stood right in front of him now, then reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "I have a summons for you."

  He thrust the paper into Tony's hands, then turned and ran back to his car, jumped in and sped away.

  Stunned, Tony looked from the man to the envelope. He ripped
it open and scanned the document inside. A black scowl darkened his face as he read.

  "What is it?" Lee asked.

  A tirade of expletives, both Spanish and English, erupted from him. He waded up the paper, threw it on the ground, then strode back and forth.

  "What's wrong, Tony?"

  "My ex wife! That bitch, that selfish, rotten bitch!" He kicked a tire, and slammed his fists against the roof of the 4x4. His hands still clenched as he struggled to control his temper.

  Lee bit her bottom lip, not sure if she should interfere. "What does she want?"

  "Ben."

  She gasped. "What?"

  He ran his hands through his hair then leaned heavily against the roof of his car. After a movement, he lifted a furious gaze to her. "Remember I told you she married a doctor in Los Angeles--a real big shot, lots of money, lots of friends? And they can't have kids?"

  "I remember."

  "So now she wants 'her' son back. She gave up all rights to him when she walked out. He was a just a baby and she left him. Now, she's changed her mind."

  Lee felt her stomach tighten. "Oh, Tony, no!" Tony couldn't lose Ben, he simply could not. "She just wants to have him visit, right? She wouldn't try to take him from you."

  "Wouldn't she? She's his mother. She's got a beautiful home, a rich husband. All I've got is a small ranch that barely shows a profit. It's coming down to a court fight."

  "A custody battle, after all these years?"

  Tony gave a bitter laugh. "Belated maternalism, I guess. But I can just see her standing in front of a judge, crying for her little boy. What mere father could compete against that?"

  Lee's heart sank. She had seen many cases in courts take bizarre turns. Logic and fair play often had nothing to do with the outcome. "What terms is she requesting?"

  "Full time."

  "My God!"

  "She calls it joint custody, but she expects him to live with her and go to school there. I'd see him only on holidays and two weeks in summer." Tony sucked in his breath and held it a moment before continuing, his voice heart wrenching. "Hell, when he finds out his step father could buy him a Porsche when he's sixteen, he'll probably want to go live with them!"