Here - Chapter 38


He leads her back inside the house, "Living room."

She wipes her eyes, sniffs, and whispers, "Very nice."

They walk through an intimately-sized dining room, the walls and ceiling a deep cinammon red. A small round dining table carved of cherry is surrounded by curve-back chairs of the same material. The woods shines as if it has been recently oiled and polished. A primitive shock of white pottery in the center of the table overflows with blue and white hydrangea.

He says simply, "Dining room."

She nods.

He walks through an arched hallway and announces, "Pantry." Then he pushes on a swinging door and opens it, stopping before they can step inside, "This is the kitchen."

She starts to enter the spacious-looking, pale yellow galley, but he stops her, "Take a good look. This will be the last time you see it."

She narrows her eyes at him, "You're pretty sensitive about your kitchens, aren't you?"

He shrugs, "Sometimes."

She rolls her eyes and backs away from the doorway. She asks seductively, "What's next? The bedroom?"

He shakes his head and leads her back through the dining room and then down a hallway, one wall of which is punctuated by tall windows offering views of the long terrace and the lake. He opens a door and flicks a light switch. Then he says, "Watch your step..."

She sees the steps in front of her and cautiously goes down them. He announces, "The garage," and switches on another light.

At first, she wonders why Sonny would feel compelled to show her the garage. But when light floods the long space, her jaw drops, "Oh my God!"

Carly can not believe her eyes. My car! It is her car. Exactly how she'd last seen it. Well, maybe a little cleaner...no, a lot cleaner!

Sonny can not stop himself from a small smile when he sees her face light up in recognition. He knows how much the car means to her, what it represents for her.

Immediately, she rushes to the vehicle and looks it over. Inside, sitting peacefully on the front seat, is her purse. She opens the door and grabs her purse. Rifling through its meager contents, she sees that everything is still in place, even the small amount of cash is still inside of her velcro and vinyl wallet.

Finally, after she has satisfied herself that this is, indeed, her car. She looks at Sonny questioningly, "H-how...? Where did you...?" Then she looks at him suspiciously, "You knew??" Her eyes narrow, "Luke, right?"

He says simply, "Does it matter?"

She takes a deep breath, sadness returning to her eyes, "What about the people who stole it? Did you find them?"

He replies with barely-hidden finality, "Don't worry. They won't be bothering you anymore."

She blinks and begins to ask him what he means by that statement. Then she decides she does not want to know.

She tells him, "Thank you."

"You can thank me by paying me," he says half-seriously.

She looks at the car again, unable to comprehend how happy she feels upon seeing the giant gas-guzzler.

He clears his throat, "Ready?"

She looks at him, clutching her purse to her stomach with both hands, and nods. After a final glance at the car to make sure it is still really there, she follows him up the steps.

They continue down the windowed hallway to an arched wooden door, carved in relief with grapes and leaves. He stops before it and says softly, "This is the bedroom..."

She looks at him.

Holding her eyes, he places a hand on the knob, then takes it away. He takes a deep breath, searching for courage, then brings one of her hands to his chest and holds it there. He closes his eyes briefly, then stares hard into hers and breathes, "That hearts and flowers stuff?"

She nods, waiting for him to continue.

He says softly, a catch in his throat, "I think you already have the heart part..."

She can not breathe. Her heart is in her throat. She has never felt like this before. Not ever. She feels as if she is in a dream and she will be shaken awake at any second.

Then he opens the door and steps aside, ushering her through the doorway.

Carly peeks inside the bedroom and is flabbergasted.

Inside the softly-lit bedroom, which is a darker goldish-red than the living room, stands an imposing fireplace, already burning. Before the fireplace are two armchairs. A mini-bar stands next to the fireplace under a window looking out to the water.

In the center of the room is a tall four-poster bed, reaching almost to the ceiling. Atop and along each post float wafts of sheer silk, draping and puddling to the carpeted floor.

The thick white cotton comforter is covered with what appears, to Carly, to be hundreds of red rose petals, strewn across the bed and the floor.

Placed at the foot of the bed are two very sheer, very sexy ensembles, one black and one white.

She knows her face is beet red. She says in a mock-snide whisper, "You're pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?"

He smiles at her and closes the door behind them.

She walks over to the bed and lifts the white outfit from the bed. It is a short, transparent baby-doll nightie. Small triangles to cover each breast are attached by a thin elastic band to the short, flowing skirt. Separate matching thong panties complete the ensemble. She holds the top in front of her and looks at him, "For me?"

He replies, "I think so."

She holds it close against her body and asks, "Which one?"

He clears his throat, looks her over with heat in his brown eyes - as if he is imagining her in the outfit - and a sexy smile on his lips. He shrugs, "I think I'm going to have to see you in both of them before I can choose." He pauses, tilts his head slightly, then suggests in a voice barely above a whisper, "You want to model them for me?"

She bites her lip, feeling the familiar heat rush through her body. Then, with only a slight hesitation, she scoops up both of the flimsy outfits and looks at him expectantly.

He points to a door, "That's the bathroom."

With a teasing smile, she disappears through the bathroom door.

He groans lightly, goes to the mini-bar, and pours a couple of glasses of wine. He picks up one of the armchairs and turns it to face the bathroom. Then he takes a seat.

A few minutes later, Carly walks out of the bathroom, barely clad in the sheer white number. As his eyes sweep over her, he can barely stay still in the chair.

Her body is perfectly visible through the thin sheath of white. Her breasts appear to be spilling out of the tiny triangles meant to cover them. The hem of the nightgown ends at the bottom of her hips, revealing the slip of material between her thighs.

He blows air out through his lips and shakes his head in amazement. He sits back and says, "Better than I imagined..."

She adjusts the sides of the top and asks, "You don't think it's too small?"

"Uh-uh..." he whispers in a groan, shifting around in his chair and running a hand over his chin, "I think it's just right..."

She walks over to him, bends forward and kisses his lips, then stands up and spins slowly in front of him. "So I guess you like this then?"

"Oh yeah..." he answers with certainty.

She turns her back on him and heads back to the bathroom. As she goes through the door, she looks over her shoulder at him and playfully lifts the hem of the skirt to reveal her bare buttocks in the thong panties.

He lets out his breath in a whoosh, laughs softly, and shakes his head as she closes the door on him.

It takes her a little longer to get into the second nightie. Sonny is getting impatient. After a few minutes, he calls, "You okay in there?"

She opens the door and poses in the doorway.

Sonny's smile slowly widens, "Wow...now that's..um..." He clears his throat and says with a nod, "...that's nice..."

The black lace outfit is two pieces. The top resembles a corset, but it is held together only by sets of thin strings that tie together down the middle, starting at her chest and ending at her waist. The matching black panties tie at either side of her hips.

She slowly walks to where he is seated and stops in front of him, locking eyes with him. She turns slowly, then asks, "How about this one?"

He does not answer, his eyes washing over her body as she turns. When she is facing him again, a challenging look in her eye, he reaches up to untie the top.

She shakes her head, leans down, and kisses his lips. Then she whispers with a smile, "No hands..."

He looks up at her, surprised. Then he grins.

[ ***Please contact me for the unedited version of this chapter*** ]

Her face is flushed and her eyes are closed. The edges of her lips are turned upward in a satisfied smile.

He studies her face, then strokes the scars on her face lightly. The marks remind him what she has just been through. He says, "I'm sorry they hurt you..."

Her mind swept back to the carjacking suddenly, she freezes, then holds his hand against her cheek.

He moves closer to her and whispers sweet truths into her hair, against her throat, into her ear. He tells her in a hushed voice how much he has wanted her, how much he wanted to make love to her, how much he missed her over the last couple of weeks.

Her eyes open slowly and she whispers, "I was so scared, Sonny..."

"When they stole the car?" he asks her quietly.

She shakes her head and confesses, "When I saw you with her..."

He blinks, then, not knowing what to say, he kisses her cheek.

She looks up at the silk canopy above them and says into the air, "You are the first person that I feel really safe with -- and really scared of -- at the same time..."

Sonny is disturbed by her statement, "You're scared of me?"

She nods.

He turns her face toward him so that he can look into her eyes. He narrows his eyes and says intently, "I don't want you to ever be scared of me, Carly."

She tries to explain, "It's not that I'm scared of you. It's more like I'm scared of us...?"

He nods slowly, understanding, because he feels the exact same way. He admits, "Me too."

She feels remarkable relief then. She discovers that is not alone.

He is right here with her.

Here in fear.

Here in tension.

Here in lust.

Here in joy.

He kisses her hand, then slides one of her fingers into his mouth. He warns her seriously, "I don't know how this will turn out, Carly."

She lets out a small laugh, "Me neither, man..."

He continues, an uneasy smile on his lips, "I do know it probably won't be easy..."

She runs her fingers through his hair and reaches up to kiss his mouth.

She whispers, "That's okay." After a pause, she adds with a thoughtful frown, "Easy's overrated..."


THE END

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Thanks so much for reading! I've really enjoyed writing the story and I've really appreciated all of the wonderful feedback! It kept me going many, many times, believe me!:)

Thanks again,
Anita:)