Saturday, August 30, 2008

Hot Cinnamon Cider

Hot Cinnamon Cider

Trina pulled the old Buick off to the side of the road, her nerves shattered. Ten years ago, the Wisconsin weather wouldn’t have phased her, but things had changed. She laughed to herself, that’s what happens when you move to the South

Trina peered through the ice-crusted windshield at the blizzard beyond, pondering her options. She could, of course, keep driving. She’d be a nervous wreck by the time she got to Aunt Viv’s cabin, but she could do it. Or she could stop and find some place to stay. Looking around, she caught a glimpse of neon lights up ahead, and the decision was made. She’d get a room, call Viv and ride out the storm.

Years of travel had honed Trina’s first-impression mechanism, and she sighed with relief, sensing the Wild Rose Inn was no Bates Hotel. It was clean, modern and smelled like cinnamon. Without hesitation, she rang the bell.

“May I help you?”

The man who emerged from behind the counter was tall, dark and handsome. And vaguely familiar. Not in a Norman Bates sort of way, she chuckled silently, but in a, “I wonder how I know him” sort of way.

His eyes were kind and his smile instant as she explained her situation.

“Welcome to Wisconsin,” he chuckled, before bending slightly to take care of her check-in details on the hotel’s computer. Trina took advantage of his attention to detail to take in some details of her own. His shoulders were broad and muscular, and the faded jeans he wore were stretched taunt over powerful thighs. And there in the middle…

“And what name would you like me to put that under?”

Trina started. Absorbed in his generous details, she’d forgotten to listen.

“Katrina Walters,” she stammered quickly.

A long pause ensued as the man behind the counter checked her out. Trina felt her ears flush as his curious, appraising stare continued. She shifted slightly as a sexy smile touched his lips.

“Katrina Walters,” he repeated softly. “I thought I recognized you.”

“Excuse me?”

The man apologized. “I’m sorry,” he said with a smile, “but when you walked in, I was sure I knew you, but it wasn’t until you said your name that I put two and two together.”

Trina nodded slightly. “I,” she paused, embarrassed. “I thought you looked familiar, too,” she finished.

They smiled at each other sheepishly, then the man extended his hand, “Grady Reese,” he said. “I was on the Habitat house outside of Meridian, Mississippi.”

Trina brightened, Of course! The summer after junior year. She and her boyfriend of the week– she struggled to remember his name – Byron, yes she and Byron had spent that first week of summer in Mississippi. It had been his idea, of course. He was an architecture major. Her smile turned to a frown as she recalled the details: Byron had turned into Mr. Know-it-all on the build site, and Trina had dumped him on the way back to College Station.

“Wow,” she said, still holding Grady’s hand. “You have a brilliant memory!”

Grady’s blush was immediate. “I just remember you,” he admitted finally.

Trina couldn’t keep the pleased smile off her face.

Grady smiled back.“You’re right down the hall,” he said, dropping the card key into Trina’s hand. “ Number 27.”

“Thanks.”

“Have a good night.”

Trina reached for her overnight. “You too,” she said with another smile. “Good to see you again.”

She was midway down the hall when he stopped her.

“This is crazy, “ he half laughed, “but I had a huge crush on you, way back when. I didn’t do anything about it and I’ve always regretted that missed opportunity…” Grady took a deep breath before continuing, “so anyway – it’s okay if you say no – but I’m wondering if you’d like to come to the lobby in a little while and we could catch up over some cider.”

Trina smiled. “I’d love to,” she said sincerely. “And cider sounds fabulous!”

Grady laughed. “I’ll even get the electric fire cranked up!”

And he had. By the time Trina unpacked the little overnight bag, freshened up, and made her way down the short hall, the lobby was awash in the glow of artificial flames and two cups of steaming apple cider were on the low table in front of the brick fireplace.

Grady met her at the door, and in that moment she remembered.

He’d had longer hair and fewer muscles six years ago, and he’d been in charge of the landscape crew. She’d worked on the house’s interior, so they’d only crossed paths occasionally, but those few times, she’d felt something special in his shy smile.

Trina couldn’t help herself, she smiled.

“I remember!” she laughed, grabbing Grady’s hand in her own. “You were the shy landscape guy!”

Grady’s thumb caressed the back her hand. “And you were the beauty queen with the nasty boyfriend in tow,” he whispered. “The one I was too afraid to talk to.”

With their eyes locked, Grady guided Trina to the loveseat nearest the fire, then sat down beside her.

“This is going to sound really awkward,” he started, smiling into her eyes, “but I am so happy this blizzard stranded you at my hotel.”

Trina opened her mouth to speak, but Grady silenced her with his finger.

“Let me finish,” he said. “Six years ago, I experienced something few people every get to experience – love at first sight. But at 20, I didn’t know what to do about it.”

He stroked the side of Trina’s face gently. “Now I do.”

Trina had been kissed before. She’d even had sex before, but never in her 26 years had any man made love to her the way Grady did – with his heart.

As the warmth of new love spread over her, Trina sighed happily, hoping the roads would be blocked for a good, long while.

She had some catching up to do.

An Unexpected Interview

“Gretchen, your two o’clock interview is out front.”

Gretchen Vergas hung up the phone, grabbed her notepad and headed to the reception desk of the newspaper where she worked as a reporter. She didn’t remember having an interview scheduled, but it wouldn’t surprise her if she’d made one and then forgotten. Since learning Phillip, the man who introduced her to cybersex, was coming to visit, Gretchen’s mind had been otherwise occupied.

Two days, she thought wistfully, passing through the advertising offices. Two days and we’ll finally be together. No more imagination, no more words, just sex. Real, live sex.

She paused at the water cooler to compose herself. Her nipples were taunt and clearly visible through her pale pink button up, and her crotch was warm and wet – just the way she liked it but probably not the best condition to be in for an interview.

God, she hoped it wasn’t another one of those old theatre ladies. They smelled. And why did they all have to be such list-makers?

Rounding the half-wall to the reception desk, Gretchen looked up. And nearly fell down.

It was Phillip. Or at least she thought it was Phillip.

The man at the reception desk was holding a multicolored bouquet of Gerber daisies – her favorites. Check. His hair was military short. Check. His eyes were blue. Check. And he was smiling. Double check.

Barb, the receptionist coughed discreetly. “Gretchen, this is your two o’clock appointment, Phillip.”

Still dazed, Gretchen smiled and thanked Barb.

“Hi Phillip,” she said as calmly as possible. “If you’ll follow me.”

Gretchen could feel Phillip’s eyes on her. Knew he was checking out her ass. Damn, she should have worn a skirt today, instead of boring black slacks. Was she wearing granny underwear?

Gretchen held the conference room door open as Phillip passed through, then shut it firmly, making sure it was locked. She took a deep breath, turned, a nervous smile on her face.

“You’re early,” she blurted out.

Damn, she thought, that didn’t sound good.

“What I mean is, I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Is it a problem?” His voice was Texas smooth, his eyes concerned. “I know it’s unexpected, but,” he paused then, gently laying the daisies on the table and slowly walking toward her, “I just couldn’t wait.”

His lips were soft, wet, and ready, and his kiss was all Gretchen had imagined it would be.

She groaned, sliding her hands up the side of his face.


I’m glad,” she managed between kisses. “I’m glad you couldn’t wait.”

He laughed then. “Present tense, Gretchen,” said Phillip seductively. “I can’t wait.”

Gretchen felt the edge of the table on the back of her legs. She surrendered against it, drawing Phillip near.

“Me either,” she whispered.

Her hands found his zipper. He was hard, smooth, long. Ready. Slowly she released him and his hands worked the buttons of her shirt.


“Positive.”

“Good.”

Gretchen stood and Phillip stripped off her slacks and satin panties in one smooth motion, and then took off his own pants and boxers. He gently repositioned her on the table, and, as his mouth captured hers, pushed into her. Gretchen moaned. Phillip plunged deeper.

The kiss intensified, a mirror image of the passion exploding at the table’s edge, as Phillip and Gretchen finally made real every touch and every stroke.

Later exhausted, satisfied and painstakingly fully clothed, Gretchen buried her face in Phillip’s chest with a deep sigh.

“That was indescribable,” she whispered.

“It was,” he replied.

There was a pause as Gretchen struggled for the right words – not too hopeful or needy, not too cool.

“Mind if I ask, why you’re here today?”

Phillip laughed, and Gretchen felt it reverberate through her very soul.

“Just like the lady out front said,” he whispered, his hand gently move her face to eye level, “I’m here for an interview.”

Gretchen searched his eyes. “And interview?” she asked.

“Well,” Phillip started, kissing her nose sweetly, “seems I’m in the market for a wife and I wanted to make sure I did it right this time.”

He paused again, brushing the new tear from Gretchen’s cheek.

“You interested in the job?”

If there’d been any doubts in the minds of her co-workers as to what was going on behind the locked doors of the conference room, they were removed when Gretchen let out a heartfelt shriek. “Yes!” she cried, not caring if the whole world heard her happiness. “Yes!”

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