The Liberation of Kate Shaw Ch. 05

Summer finally arrived. With it came the usual evenings spent entertaining friends and extra sessions with my students, practicing for weekend recitals. In the long year since I had last spoken to Jordan, I had thrown myself both into teaching and performing, trying hard to eradicate the feel of her kisses and caresses from my memory. After a few attempts to contact me, her calls finally stopped and I no longer worried I would see her standing in the doorway to my studio or buzzing to be let up to my apartment. I was peripherally aware of her, of course, and I suppose I made a conscious effort to avoid places where her work was most likely to be exhibited. Eventually, between my performance and teaching schedules, I thought of Jordan less and less.

I woke up early the morning before a performance and stretched languidly, enjoying the sated feeling in my limbs. Next to me, Paul slept, snoring lightly and looking like a little boy with his hair tousled and his fist curled under his chin. I reached over and gently brushed his hair off his forehead, then bent and kissed him softly. He stirred slightly, then turned over and was soon snoring again. I quietly got out of bed and put on my robe, then closed the door behind me so I wouldn't disturb him while I practiced.

I had met Paul five months ago at a recital I gave in honor of a very wealthy patron of our local symphony who was celebrating her 80th birthday. It was a wonderfully ritzy black tie affair, and soon after I'd performed I was introduced to a tall, striking man whose eyes were so dark blue they were nearly violet. His dark brown hair, although expensively cut, tumbled down over his forehead and made him look like a naughty boy trying to convince others of his innocence. The entire time we were talking, I wanted to run my fingers through his hair, which made it pretty hard for me to concentrate on the conversation. When he asked me out at the end of the evening, I surprised myself by accepting.

My initial excitement turned to nervousness and uncertainty, and I almost cancelled our first date. It had been so long since I'd even considered going out with anyone that I wasn't sure I remembered how to act. I realized that I couldn't shut myself off forever, so I swallowed my reservations and went through with it. A month later we became lovers.

I sat at my piano and did a few quick warm up exercises. It still amazed me how easily I had slipped back into the performance circuit and how incredibly fulfilling it had become to me. I settled in to practice the music I would be performing the next night and soon was lost in Mendelssohn's beautiful "Songs Without Words".

I felt Paul lift the hair off the back of my neck and kiss me, his lips sending shivers down my spine. The feeling that rushed through my body felt like an extension of the music I was playing, and I leaned back into his warmth. He slid his hands over my shoulders and down inside the robe I was wearing, cupping my breasts and leaning over to kiss the side of my neck.

"I think you should always dress like this when you practice," he murmured against my skin, sending vibrations through my body.

"Is that right?" I sighed, placing my hands over his and squeezing.

"Mmmm," he hummed, sliding the robe off my shoulders and kissing my bare skin, his hands like cool silk on my breasts. I straightened up and turned my head slightly so I could kiss him.

"You're so bad!" I laughed, pushing him away. "You know I can't concentrate when you do that!"

He smiled his naughty boy smile, looking at me from under his eyelashes.

"I can't help it," he said, grinning. "You're so damn irresistible."

"Go away, you pagan," I said. "Let me finish what I need to do, or I'll be weird all day. You know how it goes."

With a sigh, Paul pulled my robe back up over my shoulders and gave me a parting kiss on the top of my head.

"Yeah, I know. Kate the Great and all that," he said ruefully, teasing me. "I'll be around somewhere… waiting…if you're interested." He walked out of the music room and closed the doors behind him.

I sat, for the moment unable to focus on what I was supposed to be doing. The thought of Paul's delicious, lean body was almost too much for me to resist, but I finally was able to turn my thoughts back to music and soon was lost again.

When I resurfaced and joined the world, I was startled to see it was early afternoon. I stood up and stretched, then went to check on Paul before I took a shower. I expected to see him sitting at his drawing board in the study, working on his latest project, but he wasn't there.

"Paul?" I called out, not finding him in the kitchen or in the TV room. I went into the bedroom and stopped cold. He was sitting up in bed fast asleep, with papers and blueprints scattered all around. I stared at him for long moments, drinking in his beauty.

I walked over and picked up the papers, moving them off the bed and trying not to wake him. He was sound asleep, his hair tumbling over his forehead, the smooth skin of his chest rising and falling with each breath. I felt a stirring deep inside me as I looked at his strong hands and his lips, remembering his touch. I dropped my robe and slid naked into the bed next to him, moving softly. I pulled the covers down past his waist and gently began stroking the firm muscles of his stomach, rubbing my hand in small circles until I reached his chest. I leaned down and licked one of his nipples, then felt him stir as he woke up and looked at me with those violet blue eyes.

"Hi there," he said, his voice roughened with sleep.

"Hi, yourself," I said, scooting closer and caressing his chest, bending down to take his nipple in my mouth.

He moaned, and I felt his muscles tighten as he started to put his arms around me. I sat up and pushed his hands away, then straddled him and leaned down to kiss him. His hands came up and began to move restlessly in my hair, and I could feel him growing hard against me as I slowly moved my body up and down on him.

"Oh, god," he breathed into my mouth, sliding down further until he was flat on his back with me on top of him. My hair, which had grown long, tumbled into his face, something he found incredibly sexy. He pulled me down and kissed me long and slow, exploring me with his tongue. I stretched out on top of him, our bodies fitting perfectly. We kissed for a long time, both of us making little noises that signified our mounting passion.

I sat up again, wanting his fullness, and he looked into my eyes as I lowered myself onto his length. He moaned loudly as our flesh met and I took him deep inside me. His hands moved up to caress my breasts and erect nipples, and I placed my hands on his chest as I began to rock back and forth. Our eyes met and held, his hips thrusting with long slow movements as we rocked together in rhythm. I could tell he was about to explode by his breathing and the way his eyes widened, so I slowed down because I wasn't ready yet.

"I want us to come together," I whispered, leaning forward to capture his lips in mine.

"Yes," he breathed hoarsely. "Oh, yes. Just let me know when baby, okay?"

"Touch me, Paul," I said, our faces inches apart. "Touch me, and it won't be long."

I sat up again and began to rock as Paul slid his hand between our bodies and found my clit, stroking it firmly as me moved inside me. I began to shake as his finger moved more rapidly on my swollen clit, pressing into me in the places he knew so well. I tossed my head back as I felt the orgasm building, and cried out loud as it washed over me. Paul's hands held my waist as he thrust deeply into me, his entire length throbbing as he moaned and exploded seconds after I did.

I straddled him, keeping him inside me for a moment until he smoothly turned on his side and took me with him, holding me in his arms as our breathing began to slow down. I nuzzled into his chest, breathing deeply of his scent and loving the feel of his strong arms around me, the feel of his hard body next to mine. He gently stroked my hair as I licked the hollow of his throat, and I could feel the vibrations in his body as he hummed softly to himself.

"Well, you sure know how to wake a guy up, don't you?" he said into my hair.

I chuckled. "You looked so damn cute, I couldn't help myself. Besides, I felt bad about this morning and wanted to make it up to you."

"In that case, maybe I should interrupt your practicing more often," he teased.

I sat up abruptly. "Paul, you do understand, don't you?" I asked, worried.

"Kate," he said, reaching up to smooth a lock of my hair back behind my ear, "Believe me when I tell you that, even though sometimes it's frustrating that you can be so inaccessible to me, I really do understand. I knew when I met you how devoted you are to your music, and I would never let anything – especially my own selfishness – get in your way. Don't you realize that your music is one of the things that made me fall in love with you?"

Those words hit me like a tons of bricks, and suddenly I felt as if I couldn't breathe.

"You what?" I said, my hand on my chest.

"I'm in love with you, Katie. You mean you really didn't know that?"

I shook my head and moved over to the side of the bed, picking up my robe and putting it back on. I felt Paul move close behind me, then felt his hand on my back.

"Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?" he asked. I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was upset.

I stood up, my back to him. I felt like my entire world had just tilted, and I didn't know why. I couldn't look at him, and I had a sudden desire to run out of the room and keep on running. The bed creaked as Paul stood up and moved behind me. I closed my eyes when he put his hands on my shoulders, but I couldn't relax.

"Kate…" he began.

"Paul, baby, I'm so sorry," I interrupted, moving away from him. I walked to the closet and started looking for clothes to wear, grabbing whatever was handy and pulling it on. "I need to go. I need to… um…"

"Kate, look at me," Paul said, reaching for me. He put his hands on my shoulders again and forced me to turn around. I was crying and couldn't look at him.

"LOOK at me, Kate. Please!" he begged, and I finally was able to raise my eyes to his. The look of hurt on his face nearly undid me, and I pulled away from him again.

"I can't, Paul," I sobbed. "Please…I don't understand any of this, but please let me go. I just can't be here right now."

Stumbling, nearly blinded by tears now, I grabbed my keys and left the apartment. I was afraid Paul would come after me as I stood at the elevator, but he didn't. I left the building and walked to my car, and when I looked up at my window I could see Paul standing there looking down at me.

I drove around aimlessly for hours, trying to figure out what on earth had just happened. I'd heard about panic attacks from different people I knew, but I'd never actually had one before. I felt awful for Paul, knowing how badly I'd hurt him, but for some reason his words had thrown some kind of switch in me. I knew Paul loved me, as I loved him, but we had never actually said the words "I'm in love with you" before. For some reason, those words scared me to death. Even though I knew in my heart that Paul would not try to find me, I still avoided places he knew I might be on the off chance I was wrong. I had left my cell phone at home in my haste to leave, but it was probably just as well. I didn't want to have contact with anyone right now. I was sure Paul wouldn't call any of our friends – or worse, my parents – to tell them about this, but I was glad they had no way to contact me in case he did.

I drove out into the country, hoping to find a quiet place where I could think and try to figure out what had caused me to panic. I found a long winding road off the highway and decided to follow it, eventually coming to a small clearing that was next to a bubbling creek. I stopped the car and walked down to the creek bank, slipping off my shoes and letting the cool water flow over my bare feet.

I stayed there for a long while, trying to make sense of the turmoil I was feeling. I couldn't figure out what was so wrong about Paul telling me he was in love with me. Any woman would have to be crazy to run away from that. He was everything I had ever dreamed about – handsome, successful, intelligent, sensitive, and a great lover. Most of all, though, he was not threatened by my own success or the intensity with which I pursued my art. My friends who had met him assured me this was a very rare trait, and one to be treasured. So why was I running away from him?

The answer came to me of its own accord, stunning in its simplicity: Paul was not Jordan. I rocked back as this thought entered my head. I had – successfully, I thought – so thoroughly banished Jordan from my thoughts for so long that at times she had seemed like a dream to me. The morning I had called and heard another woman's voice answer Jordan's phone, I felt myself shut down. I had listened to Jordan's desperate explanation as she tried to convince me she'd been drunk and heartsick over me, but my mind seemed to be paralyzed and I could make no sense of what she was saying. I remember hanging up on Jordan, feeling as though I was being enclosed in a black tunnel, and then I was lying on the floor sobbing as if my heart would break.

As I sat there on the bank of a creek, feeling water rush over my feet, all of the feelings I'd been repressing about Jordan came flooding back with an intensity that almost doubled me over. I felt such a rush of longing for her that I ached physically, and I knew I needed to talk to her before I could make any other decisions. I ran to my car and got in, hands shaking with the knowledge that I was finally going to see Jordan again.

When I got back into the city, it was nearly midnight. I drove to Jordan's apartment and parked outside, hesitating when I realized how late it was. Jordan's lights were out, and I thought maybe she was at her studio working, but I drove around the block and saw that her jeep was there. I parked again and sat for a moment, gathering my courage, then I got out and went to the door. My heart was pounding hard, and I was breathing as though I had just run a marathon. I reached up to knock, then stopped.

What if another woman answered the door? I wasn't sure my heart could take that, although I wouldn't blame Jordan for moving on after the way I'd treated her. The thought of some woman sleepily answering this door made my stomach clench, but I knew even that would be an answer for me, so I took a deep breath and knocked. There was silence, then a light turned on inside just as I was about to knock again. A curtain in the window next to the door was pulled aside, then I heard a muffled exclamation from inside. Locks turned, and suddenly Jordan was there, looking tousled and sleepy and sexier than I remembered.

"Kate?" she asked, still sleepy. "Is it really you?"

"It's me," I said, clearing my throat as my voice cracked.

"Are you all right? What are you doing here?" she asked, pulling the lapels of her flannel shirt closed.

"I need to talk to you, Jordan. Please. Can I come in?"

She stood there looking at me for a long minute, and I felt as though my heart had stopped.

"Yeah, yeah, come on in," she said, standing back and letting me in.

I had never actually been inside her apartment before, had only driven by out of curiosity once or twice when we'd first met. It smelled like her; a combination of cinnamon and vanilla that instantly took me back to the last time we'd made love. She walked into the living room and turned on a lamp near the couch, and before I knew it I was across the room and in her arms, hugging her tightly. She hesitated, then put her arms around me and held me for a moment before gently pulling away and offering me a seat on the couch. I sat down, and she sat in a recliner across from me.

"What's going on, Kate?" she asked, looking at me carefully.

"Are you here alone?" I asked before I could think.

Jordan tensed, the muscles in her jaw knotting. "Why?" she asked tightly.

I winced. I hadn't meant to ask that question, but I needed to know where things stood with her before I went on.

"Are you?"

"Well, if you must know, yes, I'm alone. Toby is out of town on business."

"Toby? Who's Toby?" I asked, my heart sinking.

"She's the one who answered the phone the morning you called me," Jordan answered, still tense.

"I thought you told me she was a mistake…that you were drunk and didn't mean to sleep with her," I protested.

"Well, I was wrong," Jordan said as she stood up and began pacing around the room. "Seems like I was wrong about a lot of things back then."

"Jordan, please, listen to me. I…"

"You what?" Jordan said angrily, stopping in front of me. "Why the hell are you here, Kate? Why now, after all this time?"

I stood up and moved in close to her. "I'm here because I wanted you to know I was wrong. I was wrong for treating you the way I did, I was wrong for being afraid, and I was wrong for not allowing myself to admit how much I love you."

She stared at me, stunned, then turned her back on me and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I'm sorry, Kate. You had your chance with me, and you chose to walk away. It's too late."

I walked behind her and put my arms around her, pulling her against me.

"Do you love Toby?" I asked, my voice quivering.

She sighed deeply. "Yes, I do."

I slid my hands up under her arms and placed them over her breasts. She tensed again, but made no move to stop me. I caressed her through the warm flannel, feeling her nipples come erect under my touch.

"Do you love her as much as you love me?" I whispered, knowing in some remote part of me that this was wrong, this was unfair, but I was unable to stop touching her.

She trembled in my arms, then turned around and kissed me fiercely, grinding her body into mine. Her hands tore at my clothes and mine fumbled at the buttons of her shirt, finally ripping the shirt open. Our mouths were desperate, sucking at each other as our tongues met and entwined. I cried out as I felt her hands on my naked skin, and she lowered me to the floor and stretched out on top of me, grinding her hips into me. She took one of my breasts in her hand and squeezed hard, then lowered her mouth to the other and sucked greedily at my nipple. I held her head tightly to my body with one hand, raking my nails along her back with the other. She slid a hand down between my legs and groaned when she felt how wet I was, then slid two fingers deep inside me as she sucked on my breast. I was bucking under her, clawing at her back and thrashing back and forth as she moved her fingers in and out of me roughly. I came suddenly, violently, feeling my body spasm around her fingers, then she moved down and jerked my legs open, sliding in between them and lapping my clit with her strong tongue. I was crying, moaning loudly as I felt her tongue flick my clit back and forth rapidly. She reached up and squeezed my breast with one hand, holding me wide open with her other as her tongue worked mercilessly on my clit. I screamed as I came, shuddering with the force of it and grabbing her head to stop her from touching me. I felt raw and sore, remembering with a jolt that I had made love to Paul just a few hours earlier.

We both lay there trembling, Jordan with her head resting on my thigh. As our ragged breathing slowed down, Jordan sat up and picked up her shirt. I could see the marks my nails had made on her back before she put her shirt back on. I sat up, my head spinning, and pulled my knees into my chest as I looked at her, speechless.

"Well, is that what you wanted?" she asked in a low, bitter voice, not looking at me.

I felt sorrow well up inside me as I looked at her back. I began to cry again, hugging myself tighter.