Chapter 13
She was still afraid of him but not as afraid as she had been and not in the same way. It wasn't possible really since he had become suddenly so gentle. Or had he always been gentle underneath? She realized suddenly that she had never really looked at him. So how could she tell.
Now for the first time as he was putting her down on the bed of her apartment, she cracked her eyes and looked. What she saw was a strong, handsome face above a lean, hard body. There was strength in this man but gentleness alongside it.
"You're awake," he grinned. "You're peeking."
She opened her eyes.
"I thought I would never want to wake up but I seem to be coming back. Is it late?"
"No, you probably just slept a couple of hours before I came and kidnapped you."
"Why did you do that?" she asked, sitting up. Then to her chagrin, the blanket that he had slipped over her fell and he was staring openly at her bare breasts.
She drew the blanket up but not very snugly.
"For several reasons," he said. "One, I thought you might want to come to your senses before little Laurie put a fast rush on you. Two, I wanted you to myself. Three, there were things you needed to think over in an atmosphere with less pressure. But mostly, I wanted to make sure you were all right."
"Oh."
She wanted to ask why he was so concerned but didn't dare yet. She was a little sensitive.
They were silent a moment, Patricia aware suddenly of the lack of clothing separating her from his view.
"Well, do you want to sleep or talk?" he asked.
She smiled wanly. It seemed that she had a sympathetic listener now.
"Talk," she said.
"Good. I'll put on some coffee."
He left and came back in a few minutes. He was carrying two cups. "This is some instant to tide us over. I've got the percolator on."
She took the warm beverage gratefully.
"How did you find me?"
He grinned.
"I played a long shot. First, I tried every bar in town, thinking that someone in your shape would head for one. Then, when that failed, I remembered a couple of conversations I'd had with Laurie, how struck she was with you. In fact, we formed your two-man admiration society. I got to thinking that if her feeling was conveyed to you, then you might think of her in a time of trouble."
"That's what happened, but-"
"But what?"
"But I'm not a lesbian."
Bob grinned.
"Of that I'm sure."
"But what am I?" Patricia wailed.
Bob eyed her seriously. "You're a girl."
"But what else? What kind of girl?"
"Sometimes it takes a lot of work to find that out," Bob told her soberly.
"I don't even know where to start," she sobbed, grief suddenly flooding her.
"Maybe you've already started," Bob told her. "I talked to Randy a little before the fighting got too heavy. I learned about Patty. Maybe she was created to balance Patricia and help you understand some of the forces that were driving you."
"That could be true, you know," Patricia said.
"I'll bet it is," Bob said. "And then when Gerald and Randy appeared, you couldn't play both roles at once and so you freaked and ran as far as you could."
"That's right" Patricia said and, then excited, she sat forward so quickly the blanket fell again. She blushed but Bob smiled.
"Leave it," he told her. "I like to look at your breasts."
"It's nice to have them looked at," she said.
"See, that's progress already."
"But what I was saying," Patricia went on, "was that I finally did wind up in a bar but not in town. And I met these two men and a woman and guess what they called me. Pat."
"A third one," Bob said. Maybe she came along to try and reconcile Patty and Patricia."
"That's true. And she was sexy enough though perhaps not so impulsive as Patty. Only-" her face darkened.
"What?"
"They-they just used me-all three of them," Patricia said. "I wasn't anything to them and they took me down farther than I've ever been in my life."
"And you learned something," Bob said.
"That's true. And you know something. Afterwards, I had a dream. It was about my mother. I-I guess that was where it started-her bitterness against men after my father left. She kept telling me things against them."
She paused thoughtfully once more.
"But you know what? In the dream she told me that it wasn't just her hatred of men that caused her to turn me against them. It was something else. She wanted me to herself."
Bob nodded. "There it is. You see, there was a double pressure in Patricia. One was to stay away from men and the other drove her toward women. That was why she had to invent Patty if she was going to have any normal sex."
"Patricia's sex was ambition," she said somberly.
"A damn poor substitute." Bob grinned, his eyes dropping to her breasts once more.
She thrust them forward proudly, suddenly much more herself-whoever she was.
"You really like them?"
"They're beautiful."
She smiled satisfied.
"Well, I guess I may as well learn to be a woman. I'm sure I don't have a career left after the other night."
"You and me," Bob said. "Gerald said he never wanted to see either of us again. But that's OK with me. I was about ready to go back to freelancing anyway. That's where my heart really lies. You can do what you want to-if you don't starve."
He looked over at her curiously.
"What did you want to do before you got into advertising?" he asked.
"Paint," she said. "I've always wanted to but I never had the nerve to just strike out and do it."
"Well, maybe now's the time," Bob told her. "I guess I can make enough freelancing to keep you in paints and brushes."
"I could get a part-time job," Patricia said excitedly. "Not an important one. Just enough to keep beans in the pot."
"OK."
"But-"
"But what?"
"But why do you want to do this?" she asked wonderingly.
"Because I love you, silly."
"But how can you love somebody who doesn't even know who she is?" Patricia wailed.
Bob's glance was tender.
"Sometimes people who care can see deeper into you than you can. I loved you the first time I saw you. And maybe that's all you needed to start fitting the pieces together, someone who cared enough to watch and listen."
"Oh yes!"
Patricia felt hope rising in her. "But, why?"
"I told you. I love you."
She looked at him wistfully. "I wish I could be so sure. But how can I love you when I don't even know who I am?"
She wanted to laugh but the tears came also and suddenly she was laughing and crying at the same time.
Bob smiled tenderly.
"Why don't you just wait for a feeling?" he suggested. "And in the meantime you have all this work to do plus finding out who you are. And you know something. It may just be that you've taken too negative an attitude toward this whole thing. Finding out who you are should be an adventure, the most exciting adventure in the world."
"I never thought of it like that," Patricia said.
"It's time then, isn't it?"
"Of course it's time."
"And that's the way sex is," he said. "You don't expect to be a hot potato every time. But if you're really interested, really with it, why every encounter is an adventure. Why, just touching someone, feeling how they are-that's another great adventure."
"I never thought of that either," Patricia said.
He reached out and patted her shoulder.
"A lot of things you never thought about. You think of touch, of contact as some sort of sickness you have to go through. Well, my dear, it's not. That's what the whole thing is about-contact. And the sex contact is one of the most vital forms."
"Even if you fail sometimes?"
"Even if you fail most of the time. Stop being your mother. Give yourself a chance to fail without dying."
"Yes, sir."
Bob's intensity changed to a shy grin. "I guess I got on my soapbox but these are things I've wanted to say to you a long time. And so I got them all out at once."
"I'm glad," she said. "I-I feel closer to you now."
"And you'll give us a chance to work it out?"
"We'll take all the time we need," she said, looking deep into his eyes and letting the blanket slide the rest of the way off her body so that she was completely nude before him.
"That's what I wanted to hear," he said.
"It will be so exciting!"
"I know."
He stood up and began ripping off his clothing. She watched the lean, hard body emerge.
As his pants dropped, she saw the lean, heavy thrust of his giant erection and suddenly, in spite of her exhaustion, in spite of the long night, hunger sang in her.
"I want you," he said, looking down at her, taking in every inch of her nakedness.
"And I want you."
He dropped down onto the bed beside her and drew her into his arms. His lips covered hers and she was singing to herself as she felt his tongue swell in her mouth.
It was so good to touch! To be touched.
His hands roamed over her and his mouth dropped to her breasts and she was not content just to be caressed. Her hand reached down and found him and she felt the heavy shaft pound between her fingers and new excitement filled her.
She fell back on the bed, drawing him down with her. His fingers flowed over her like water and her whole body was suddenly alive with a deep need.
"I want you," he whispered.
For answer, she guided his hand down to her dark thatch and held it there.
The lips spread under his insistent fingers and his eyes still on her, he knelt between her legs.
"You know something," she said as he was about to enter.
"What?"
She smiled up at him.
"I think I just got that feeling."