Chapter 19
Nona sat in her apartment living room, waiting for Nick.
It was Saturday night, almost eight o'clock, the time Nick had set for their date.
So much had happened the past few days! After the awful scene in the woods above the beach, Nick had bound George West, the Ridge-runner, and had marched him at gunpoint into the village. After hearing statements from Nona and Nick, the marshal had lodged West in the Craig City jail and had hurriedly called Deputy Carl Hinton.
She didn't like to dwell on the methods Nick had used to get the truth out of West-about Zelda Nesbitt. Nick had broken the wild man's spirit-he blabbed out his story soon enough, in front of witnesses. He had hoped to be treated less roughly by the law for exposing his knowledge of the murder.
West-and the murderer-both were in jail.
It still seemed incredible, but everything fitted together. Someone else had been in the village that Wednesday evening. Andy Stone.. .
She had spurned him, he had driven away in his hotrod, angry, frustrated. West had been lurking on the rim of the village. He had seen Andy park in a secluded spot and had watched the redhead waylay Zelda as she had left the tavern and headed drunkenly for home.
The papers had been full of it for days. For bringing West in, Nick had been hailed as a hero. He hadn't mentioned events out in the brush, when she had come so close to being raped by the Ridge-runner. It was assumed by the law and the press that Nick had caught West spying on people at the resort beach and had overpowered him. Nona knew why-to protect her!
Already West had been charged with robbery, illegal use of firearms, and a few other things. He would be locked up for a long time.
Nick had moved to Lawton, staying at a motel until he was able to travel to his engagement on the Coast. His ankle, he had told her over the phone, was much improved.
Now, her vacation nearly over, she waited for him.
In one way, she felt sorry for Andy. His parents had spoiled him, coddled him. There was an evil streak in him-she had seen it when she had offered him her ultimate prize. That wild look in his eyes when he had failed.. .
Perhaps he was slightly unbalanced. Perhaps he would be sent to a mental institution, instead of prison. . .
Sex was a powerful emotion that tipped many people off-center.
He had done a terrible thing, but she bore him no ill-will. From all accounts and from what she had seen of Zelda, the bar-tart had been asking for trouble for years.
Anyway, it was over. And now, with Nick, she faced another dilemma. Did he still truly want her? Was she just a passing imagine with him?
Maybe tonight she would know. Already she had made her decision. She would try to please him in every way she knew how, and if nothing permanent developed-well, she would have a beautiful memory!
Ever since that date with him, and in spite of all the terror West had generated, she had been able to think of hardly anything else. She turned a little weak in the knees every time she thought of what his lips and hands had done to her. What she had experienced before that had been nothing!
He had touched a core of her desire that had slumbered ever since she had become aware of boys.
After all the publicity in the papers, Louella had called her. Sally, her other married sister, had come by the apartment. She had seen Nick's photo in the Lawton Daily News.
"Honey," Sally had said, smiling, "are you going to pin this big handsome guy down?"
"I'm going to t-try."
"He looks dreamy," Sally had said, patting Nona on the bottom. "With a guy like that I'd pull out all the stops!"
Nona, as usual, had blushed.
She heard a car stop in front, and her reminiscing ended abruptly. She stood up, smoothing her new cocktail frock along her hips, her heart thumping. Her nylons were very sheer and she had spurned a girdle-even a garter-belt. The new cling-top hose negated that item. Her slip, panties and bra were feather-weight, smoke-hued.
Except for a tiny belt that accented the smallness of her waist, her frock was plain, the hemline hitting her just at the knees. The bodice was flatteringly snug, dipping in front to reveal the upper slopes of her breasts. It was the most provocative dress she had ever put on.
She wanted to look as sexy and appealing as possible.
The darkness of her frock, contrasting with her blonde hair and flawless complexion, gave her a feeling of confidence. She wasn't going to worry about her stutter. It had walled her away from excitement long enough!
They sat at a small table in a shadowy corner of Lenny's, one of Lawton's better night spots. On the stand an organist played good jazz. At his right and left, on small platforms, go-go girls weaved and writhed in time to the music. It was a fairly young crowd and the dance floor was jammed. At Nick's suggestion they were drinking gin and tonic.
Nona had never felt so light-headed and effervescent. This was her first real night-club date. The waitress had been very dubious about Nona's age until she produced her ID.
"Do I-look that young?" Nona asked.
Nick's eyes met hers, warming, then glided to the ripe contours of her breasts.
"You look wonderful, Nona! I hated to bring you down here so these college-age wolves can ogle you."
"Oh-stop it!"
But she had noticed stares in her direction. Ordinarily she would have been at home, reading a book and hoping ... The gin and Nick's presence was giving her a heady, floaty sensation.
Some of the bolder girls were handing him plenty of speculative glances.
His knee touched hers, under the table, and she pressed back. He smiled. "Let's try the dance floor, Dimples."
She knew which dimples he meant, and the memory of their closeness there on the beach returned in vivid colors. They were extra-sensitive to his touch!
She left her chair, guided by Nick's arm. The music, the drinks and especially his nearness increased her confidence. She ached to be held tightly in his embrace.
There had been all kinds of interruptions-the forest fire, his ankle, and then, when she had been so eager to be wholly possessed, the Ridge-runner ...
Tonight would be perfect!
As Nick's arm circled her, his hand clasping hers, a voice broke in. "Well, how cozy,"
Nona started, turning. Ivy stood there, a smirk on her features. Nona felt Nick's hand tense.
"W-what are you doing here?" Nona asked, uneasily.
"Oh, I happened to see you two come in here," Ivy answered. She had obviously been drinking. "Would you like to join us?" Nick asked evenly.
"Hear, hear! Our hero is bending over backward!"
"Please!" Nona protested.
"Oh, I want to say my little piece, and then I'll be gone. I have to offer you both my congratulations!" Ivy's voice had an edge, a hardness.
Nick said nothing. The music and the voices seemed louder in Nona's ears. She had never seen Ivy in this shape, half-tight, vindictive.
"But watch it, honey," Ivy continued in the same vein. "He'll take what he can and leave you in the lurch."
"I know what I'm doing!" Nona said, her anger rising. She hated this. Obviously, Ivy was jealous. She wore slacks and sweater instead of a dress. Her hair was drawn back tightly to her head.
"Good luck," Ivy answered, smirking. "You'll need it!"
Nona had never expected Ivy to create a scene. "Come on, Nick-let's dance."
He guided her onto the crowded floor. Ivy swayed toward the front door of the club.
"I'm sorry," Nick said, holding her close. "I hope you don't believe her."
"No!"
Ivy had tried to plant seeds of uncertainty and Nona had to admit that she had almost succeeded.
I don't care if he is leaving soon, she thought. I made my decision. I'm with Nick tonight-that's the important thing!
"I wish she hadn't come along," Nona murmured. Some of the thrill of the evening had evaporated.
"I'll make you forget all about her," Nick said, his arm squeezing possessively.
Nona sighed, snuggling against him. She pressed her breasts and her hips as close as she could. He was a superb dancer-she knew that already. Gradually the warmth of their closeness began to push back the nasty words Ivy had uttered. She flattened her hips in an effort to get even nearer; his hand tightened in hers. She was aware of his virile pressure and little tremors curled along her thighs. Her breasts, in her scanty bra, commenced to tingle.
"Let's go for a drive, dimples," he whispered. "Y-yes...."
In his car, she nestled closer. She left her jacket open at the throat, just in case. He seemed to be in deep thought as he drove along Lawton's neoned Main Street. Ivy had injected a sour note.
"I have something at my motel I want to show you, Nona."
His presence, his right arm around her shoulders, reassured her. "like etchings?"
He laughed. "Wait and see."
She rested her head on his shoulder. She felt better when he glanced down at the short hemline of her skirt, at the dip in the front of her dress where her breasts pushed out.
She had never been in a motel with a man. Her pulse raced, her chest was tight. She could think of no one she would rather be with.
She had felt glory in his arms, but he had been cruelly denied. Tonight she wanted to find out if she could please him. She wished now her sisters had given her more explicit information.
She was trembling when he steered her through the door of the motel unit, turned up one lamp, and locked the door behind them. He led her to the sofa and they sat down.
The place was neat, almost luxurious, with deep carpet on the floor. Her heart beat wildly. No one could bother them, now. They were secluded. Even the hum of the Saturday night traffic was muted.
His arms went around her. He seemed to be trembling, too.
"Nona, I've really looked forward to this," he said, his lips beneath her ear.
Should she act playful, coy? No!
"So have I, Nick," she whispered.
Gently his hand shaped her breasts, and his lips inched toward her mouth. Flutters of excitement claimed her. The impress of his lean, hard body seemed too good to be true. She softened in his embrace, offering her mouth.
He took it, brushing her parted lips, breathing uneven, and the memory of how his tongue had felt inside her mouth made her open wide.
"Sweet, sweet!" he whispered, and then he was tasting her lips, nipping the under-roll of her mouth, his tongue a lance of delight. She laced her fingers through his hair.
It seemed so natural and delightful to arch her breasts forward, encouraging his explorations. Ever since their experience on the beach there had been a void in her being, an ache, a hunger. She had resisted any temptation to relieve her desires-she had hoped and hoped for this, and now it was happening.
Forget Ivy and that horrible Ridge-runner, and all the rest! Even Andy.
His tongue slipped deeply, fluttering sensuously in the moist, heated well of her mouth. His fingers loosened the bodice of her frock. A wonderful glow commenced, spreading fan-like through her body, along her thighs, up to the core of her need.
Her tongue shot out, to coil around his. She gave as generously as she knew how. Now his hand sought the little catch that held her bra together-and seconds later she shivered as her mounds billowed out, eager for caresses.
Her nipples had never been so sensitive. She felt them rise and poke forward. Piquant thrills chased from one peak to the other. She was no longer ashamed of her size there. Already he had expressed his adoration and his demonstration of affection took her breath away.
She felt silky and hot, all over.