Chapter 18
HOW GOOD A MAN CAN BE....
Jean watched her father's car wheel a-round the corner and a lump formed in her throat.
She was in front of the Troy County Court House, where a judge had performed the wedding ceremony linking Sam and Colleen. They were driving to Missoula, and would take a plane there for Reno.
Colleen had looked radiantly happy, and she actually had appeared to be crazy about Sam. How strange, after all her studied put-on. Sam had looked years younger ... confident and strong. Something had happened to him and to Colleen, after the fire at the apartment. Of course, relieving the circulatory trouble of Sam's had improved his outlook, his health. But there was more to it than that.
She hadn't quite believed Colleen when the brunette had had a moment to say a few words to Jean after the ceremony-when Sam wasn't listening.
"I know what you think of me, honey," Colleen said, brightly. "I know you tried to break us up, but I've learned something. We both know that fire couldn't have made him a new man overnight, physically. But it helped his ego ... Yesterday, at the motel, he turned into a tiger!" She laughed, softly, leaning forward to whsiper in Jean's ear. "I found out how good a man can be! He made me go three times!"
"You're just bragging," Jean said, suspiciously.
"No! That doctor told him something ... gave him a booklet about sex. Can't you see the difference in him?"
"Yes," Jean admitted.
Colleen giggled. Her mannerisms were more feminine; she had a new sparkle in her eyes. "I won't try to rob you, honey ... I think I could, but I've changed, too...."
Jean walked across the street to her car. It was mid-afternoon, and she was all dresssed up, with no place to go. She hadn't seen Carl; she hadn't gotten up the nerve to call him. The memory of him with that blonde lingered in her thoughts.
A few questions to people around town had told her who the blonde was. Nita Brooks. And she worked in Carl's office. She was single, new in town and available.
She sat in her car, watching people walk a-long the busy street. She was aware of a damning-up of her emotions. Hearing Colleen talk of having so much fun made her bitterly envious. Of course, it was grand that her father was experiencing a new lease on life.
She decided she might as well go back to her apartment and begin the task of packing, getting ready to leave for Santa Barbara. All of her dreams about Carl would have to be forgotten. He had a girl-and a plump blonde, at that.
Oh, damn her, Jean thought, squirming on the car seat. Her thighs turned prickly just from remembering Carl's lips on hers. It was a little warm in the car, and she hitched her skirt back a few inches to cool her legs.
I'll have to go home and get rid of this itchy feeling, she thought, watching a young couple stroll along the sidewalk. The girl was slender and pretty. I might even go for Donna again.
She reached for the key, bitterness in her throat, when a voice stopped her hand. A shadow appeared beside the car.
"Well, hello," Carl said.
Her heart leaped. He was bending down, looking in at her. His smile was friendly.
"I drove by a while ago and thought I saw you over at the Court House," he said, easily. No hesitation in his manner, so far.
She was fluttery with conflicting emotions. Her hands trembled on the steering wheel.
"Dad and Colleen just got married," she said. Her voice didn't sound right. "I'm leaving town soon. I'd ask you for a hand-holding session if your blonde girl friend didn't mind."
His smile faded. He opened the car door and slid in beside her. She didn't push her skirt forward. Let him see my big fat legs, she thought.
"I don't have a girl firend," he said, stiffly. "What are we going to do-fight again?"
Her heart was going boom-boom. The hurt of their last time together still rankled inside her. She had thrown herself at him and he had acted like a school boy. She turned her head, tears beginning to form in her eyes. How ridiculous! She was Hips Sampson, the girl who hired her studs and knew how to handle herself in any situation.
"What did you do with that blonde you dated the other night?" she said, tartly. "Tease her up and leave her panting? Are you still afraid to put your hands on a girl? Or am I just too big and awkward?"
"Jean, stop it!" he said, his voice tight. "I was a fool! I know that, now. I called you and ... you wouldn't listen." He reached out and touched her hand. The contact made her tremble. Ohhh-damn, how she wanted him! Her thighs were burning, her lips ached for his mouth.
"You're not big and awkward!" he went on. "You're adorable. I was always shy around the girls ... I had troubles ... That blonde you saw me with has skipped town. She had big plans for me, and I had to fire her ... Does that make you feel any better?"
She couldn't believe it.
"Didn't she give you any?" she said, her voice trembly.
"Sure," he said, dryly. "And she made me realize a few things, too." His hand tightened on hers. "Jean, give me another chance, will you? I know it sounds corny. You look very beautiful today, did you know that?"
Don't torture me, she thought.
"Big hips and all, I suppose," she said, unable to meet his eyes.
"Damn it, don't say that again!" He slid closer and put his arms around her. She had a spell of dizziness. His lips found a place under her ear and she trembled. "I want you so bad it hurts me," he whispered.
"Well, why don't you show it?" she gasped. "Put your hand under my skirt. Feel me!"
His hand left hers. It dropped to her knees and moved in on her thighs, above the tops of her nylons. A flame leaped into life between her legs. He moaned as his fingers traveled enticingly along the expanse of her widening thighs.
Ohhhhh-why didn't he do that before? she wondered, curling her hips nearer.
Suddenly his mouth sought hers, found it. He covered her lips possessively, boring in until they opened, fluttered, softened. His hand reached her panties and cupped her heated woman-mound. Darts of sensuous excitement roared along her body.
"Whooeee!" a voice said, from the sidewalk.
He didn't jerk away. He kept on kissing her, holding his hand firmly on the place of her want.
I guess he does want me, after all she thought hazily.
His tongue plunged boldly between her lips, into her mouth. She shuddered. Her panties were burning! Ohhhh, it made her so dizzy and it was good and right!
A whistle from the sidewalk finally drew them apart.
"Damned peepers," Carl muttered, darkly.
But she had her answer. Actions were so much more dramatic than words. Big hips or not, he was after her. Well, even if it was only for a momentary thrill, she didn't care.
"I don't mind getting kissed on Main Street," she said, happily. Will it work out? Will he treat me like a man should? I don't want to be hurt again. I thought I had nerves of steel, but I don't.
"Do you know where my apartment is, Jean?"
"I have a vague idea," she lied.
He squeezed her leg. "My car's just down the street. You follow in yours, will you?"
Her heart was banging around in her chest. "In the middle of the afternoon? Shame on you!"
"We've sparred around long enough," he said, his hand drifting under hsr skirt again.
"Will you come?"
She opened her thighs and lifted against his hand. Fizzy tingles rewarded her effort. No one could see inside the front seat....
"Is that enough answer for you?" she laughed.
He trembled. He squeezed gently. "It sure as hell is!"
As he opened the door of his apartment, and she walked in, she thought, that other girl was here. Nita Brooks. Did he really fire her? If he can get rid of girls that fast he can do the same with me.
He was different. He had a new confidence. She had sensed it in the car, and she felt it even more strongly here. He closed the door and turned to her. His arms went around her, tightly, possessively.
"I can't believe you're really here, Jean" he muttered, breathing in her hair.
Maybe I didn't get dressed up for nothing, after all, she thought. The strength of his arms made her dizzy. He really meant it.
She wore a pale blue two-piece suit, one she had picked for the wedding. She had taken her hat off as soon as she had entered her car. She knew she looked as good as she could. Her girdle was very light-weight, and her undies were very sheer. But why worry about clothes now?
"I'm here, Carl. Why don't you put your hand back where it was, before?"
She didn't want to think beyond the present. He had come out of his shell and now he could give the girls around town a real romping. Big and handsome and virile. She would take him any way he wanted her. She would have a memory, at least.
No deep, soulful stuff. She would be giddy and reckless and enjoy it for as long as she could.
"Come on," she whispered. "Feel me up and make me hot! Fat girls like sex, too."
"Don't talk that way," he said, trembling. "You're not fat. You're nice and rounded and you drive me crazy!"
"Compliments will get you everything," she whispered.
He drew her to the sofa, easing her down. His mouth dropped over hers, where she wanted it, and her lips burned fiercely. She opened them for his tongue, and in it came, big and tingly. The intensity of his ardor, so evident on their first date, now seemed to grow and flower.
This time he was doing something about it!
She knew her skirt was halfway to her hips, and suddenly his hand was under it, on the itchy planes of her thighs, caressing and fondling. She spread her legs to give him room. She writhed her lips against his, receiving the slow pokes of his tongue, bathed in sweet anticipation.
Her breasts grew firm. She wanted his hand on them, opening her suit-top, but right now his fingers were finding the stretch of her panties, claiming her femininity again. She arched her hips upward.
She hadn't had a man for so long she was frantic for it. And what a man! She wasn't going to pay him, either. He wanted her for what she was.
Sweet twinges of need curled through her loins, up to her nipples. His tongue was bold and voluptuously exciting, sliding in and out, in and out.
His mouth lifted. His fingers played over her thighs, then back to her already moist panties.
"Ohhhhh-that's very good, sweets!" she gasped. "You certainly have changed."
"I sure wanted to do this-that other time, but I was afraid...."
"Well, if you like big-hipped gals, I'm your meat."
"Stop it, Jean!" he said, his voice tight with felling, "You're more than just a gal. You're the woman I want! I know this may sound crazy, but-I love you, and I have ever since I saw you!"
She trembled with more than passion. Was she hearing it right? Wasn't there some mistake?
"You don't know what I am Carl," she said, fighting her tears again.
All those men I hired, then Donna ... and what about my mechanical aid?
"The hell I don't!" he cried. "You're sweet and desirable and-I'm no angel, I can tell you!"
The tears came, and she couldn't help them. It was so terribly nice to have a real man want her for herself without any transfer of money, without the onus of paid stud in her mind.
He kissed her gently, and her lips had never been so tremblingly responsive. A rush of gratitude made her give and give. His hand on her vee was a wand, whirling her into a new realm of sensation.
When his tongue came out of her eager mouth, at last, she hugged him with all her strength and whispered.
"Oh, Carl-I love you, too!"
She didn't care how corny it sounded, or anything else. It expressed her feeling, it gave her a new tingly awareness of him. She had hardened her heart against things like this, she had gone down a lot of bypaths, but this was what she really wanted, what any real girl wanted-a man she could call her very own!
She felt so lighthearted she wanted to sing, and her natural good humor returned. She murmured :
"If you don't treat me right and make me pant and moan, I won't let you have it, darling!"
His hand on her panties trembled. Sweet waves of desire made her quake.
He caught her mood. "If I don't prove to be a good lover, I don't deserve you!'"
"Well, what are you waiting for?" she whispered, swinging her hips recklessly. For the first time in her life they felt small.