UNLOVED Read online

  Nona laughed. "So specific! All right. I paint, mostly, in my free time. I love jasmine, and I prefer red wine."

  It was physical from the start. He drove her home after the light luncheon and escorted her up the four flights of stairs to her off-campus studio with its wall of windows. She asked him if he would like some almond and spice tea, and while the water boiled in the kettle, he took her in his arms. Nona fought down her first blink of surprise. His hold was light, tentative. She knew she could walk out of the circle of his arms and that would be the end of things. His thick lashes veiled his eyes, but Nona saw the dark glitter behind their scrim.

  "You smell like magnolias and oil paints," he murmured to her. His fingers sought the hollows of her spine through the heavy cotton-sheeting top she wore.

  "Not a very pleasant blend."

  "On the contrary. It was your scent I noticed first. I smelled magnolias--light, musky, lemony." His left hand slid over her shoulder to touch the thinly-fleshed collarbones visible in the open neckline of her shirt. "I went...seeking"--Jude's nostrils flared once and briefly as his lashes lifted, and Nona was dizzied by a sweeping of sensuousness she had never known--"the woman who wore that scent."

  He smiled the tiny, one-cornered smile she would come to know so well. "There you were, taunting Alix right before her eyes. You amused me. Do you know how attractive I found you just then? A dryness, a faint sharpness, like the first bite of a plum." His fingers touched a spot on her breastbone just above the warm hollow between her breasts. Holding her gaze to allow her to object, he bent his head and placed the smallest, lightest kiss where his fingers touched.

  "Nona." Jude's low voice shivered through her. "Nona." His lips and fingers moved up along her throat, fingers leading with a feather touch, his lips following with a warmer, more devastating pressure. Nona closed her eyes. Her head fell back and her lips parted softly.

  He took what she offered, tasting every curve of her lips with sweeping movements of his tongue, testing the edges of her teeth. The singing of the teakettle separated them only gradually.

  Five days later Jude Danzig made love to Nona for the first time.

  She still remembered everything, every look, every movement, down to the most intimate caresses of his quiet hands. It began with a late dinner at Jude's sophisticated home, served high above the Miami streets on his condominium's balcony, where green tapers streamed in the breezes and dripped wax down their lengths. He cooked for her--grilled salmon, asparagus with lemon butter, and a salad. He kept her wineglass filled until she looked at him and asked, "Are you trying to get me drunk, Jude?"

  His smile was slow and sensuous. "Perhaps I'm hoping we can be each other's dessert."

  Nona laughed nervously and blurted, "With whipped cream?"

  Jude leaned forward and caught her eyes with his. "If you like, though I have a distinct preference for honey. Whipped cream can be chilly on the skin."

  Though she'd been waiting for such an opening, Nona found herself at a complete loss for words, floundering in unfamiliar waters. A trembling began low in her stomach and she was glad the dinner had been light. "Really, Jude," she faltered.

  "Really." He reached across the table and laid his hand over hers. "I won't rush you into bed, Nona, but I think you know I want you. And you want me."

  Her eyes slid away from his. She wasn't sure she could voice her feelings quite so honestly.

  Jude's hand closed on her fingers, and, with a little tug, brought her to her feet as he rose. One hand slid behind her waist and snugged her lower body to his. He bent to puff out the two candles on the table before he cupped her chin. He looked into her eyes in the twilight. "Tell me you do."

  "Yes," she breathed.

  "Tonight." Jude's lips feathered her ear. "Now."

  A shiver passed over her skin. It was real, it would happen, she would at last know everything her girlfriends had whispered about for so long. She would know how a man's body fit with a woman's, feel skin on skin, be naked before another person. The waiting would be over, the curiosity satisfied.

  He will be inside me. The thought burned down into her brain, into her loins, the hot and steady glow of incense. All she had to do was agree. Nona tried to summon a jaunty, "Sure? Why not?" but could not speak. She stared at Jude's mouth as he pulled back to look at her carefully. Let my kiss be my answer, she thought, and lifted her hands to hold his head for her kiss.

  Jude took her kiss for assent, and opened his mouth on hers. What began as sweetness slanted sharply into sensuality. She could all but taste victorious celebration on the tongue that caressed her own, chasing through her mouth. She participated gladly...kissing was a skill she possessed.

  Long moments later, Jude took her hand and led her back into the condo. He'd given her a brief tour earlier in the evening, but he had not shown her the master suite, and when he opened the door to it, Nona saw why. The bed was turned down, revealing smooth sheets of a soft fawn color, sprinkled with the petals of red roses. Next to the bed sat a bucket of ice with champagne and two glasses.

  She laughed a little, nervous. "Welcome to Seduction Central. This took some planning."

  "More hope than planning," Jude corrected, standing close behind her and slipping his arms around her, his hands rising to cup her breasts and tease their nipples. "Is it too much?" His mouth moved to her ear and brushed there as he spoke. "Does it make me callous or cold or scheming that I hoped to take you to bed tonight, and make it special? More importantly, does it change your mind?"

  Nona turned in his arms, trying not to tremble in the combination of desire and nerves flooding her body and brain. "It doesn't change my mind."

  This is what I want, she reminded herself between languid kisses, as a pile of clothing grew on a chair near the bed. With each piece went more of her nerve, until, at last, she stood naked in front of Jude, fighting the urge to cover her breasts with her arms. Despite the warmth of the night, she felt chilled. Jude eased her onto the turned-down bed. Nona could feel the silk of rose petals against her skin and smell their fragrance.

  Part of her brain raced in circles, wondering what was next, what would be expected of her. Could he tell she wasn't experienced? Another part of her brain was entranced by his lithe, muscular body, the sensations of his mouth at her breasts, his hands arranging her limbs to suit him, fingers tracing erotic lines down her belly, over her mons and farther. Nona heard her own breaths, loud as thunder in her ears. The touch of his hand nearly obliterated coherent thought. She trembled.

  It was happening. It was really happening. She wasn't sure what to do with her hands, but Jude made encouraging sounds low in his throat as she returned his caresses, shakily brushing her hands over his skin, but avoiding his erection. Some part of her was too timid to touch him, though Jude was touching her far more intimately than anyone in her life ever had.

  There was a moment of stillness when Jude levered himself away to sit at the edge of the bed, and she heard a wrapper crinkling, but then he was back at her side, sliding her legs apart, moving between them, his hand stroking her there once again. She could feel her own slipperiness in the smooth glide of his fingers. Nona looked up to see his face in the dim light, taut and somehow hungry, a moment before his mouth dropped to capture hers, and his hips moved up, and up, and with a push he was inside her body.

  It was done.

  Nona wasn't sure what she had expected--a sting, a bruising pounding, pain, blood? Instead there was only an uncomfortable sensation of fullness, of something slick and too large moving within her, and a throbbing in her own body that was oddly anticipatory and yet unsatisfying. Jude's hips moved in a slow, smooth rhythm, and as he thrust, he spoke quietly to her. Nona tried to follow the directions he panted in her ear, knowing she wasn't doing this right, knowing he wasn't pleased when she tilted her hips and wrapped her legs around his lower back at his command. Minute after minute passed, with Jude urging her to move here, touch there, and Nona growing more and more tense. His brow
s drew together as he looked down at her in confusion.

  "Are you close, Nona?"

  Nona tried her best to speak. "Close?" How could she be closer? He was inside her, inside her--

  "I want to make you come, baby. What can I do? Tell me. Anything you want."

  "I..." Nona reached for the only thing she could think of. "Kiss me, Jude."

  The kisses helped. In the familiarity of his mouth she began to find a thread of pleasure. A new heat prickled along her skin, especially when his mouth left hers and nibbled along her jaw and throat. But then Jude's body pressed her hard into the bed. He tensed, his back curving. The smooth rhythm staggered into a shuddering staccato, and he smothered his groan in the flesh of her neck.

  Nona felt a sudden urge to hold him, help him somehow, in this new desperation she sensed. She wrapped her arms around him and heard his soft hiss. More shudders, and at last she understood what was happening to him when he lifted his head and looked down at her. Nona had never seen such a mixture of emotions on another person's face. Intense pleasure and frustration warred there.

  His hips pulled away from her and she felt a peculiar void as his body left hers. "I couldn't wait any longer. I'm sorry." Jude sagged to the side and looked down at her. "You've got to tell me what you like, sweetheart. I can make it good for you, but I don't know what you like." His hand trembled with passion as it brushed over her humid belly.

  His dark intensity frightened her a little--wasn't the sex over? She thought he'd finished--surely that convulsing meant an orgasm--and when he felt her shrink from the touch of his fingers high on her inner thigh, he glowered down at her for a long moment. She was on the verge of leaping out of the bed when he asked quietly, "Am I your first lover, Nona?"

  Her eyes slid away from his, and he cupped her chin to make her look at him again.

  The glower vanished, replaced by confusion and a tired regret that was somehow worse than the glaring frustration. "I am. Christ. For God's sake, why didn't you tell me? There are things I'd have done for you. It doesn't have to hurt."

  "It didn't, not really," she objected. "It's okay."

  "It's not." He brushed her hair back from her damp brow. "But it will be. I'll make it better." Jude vanished into the suite's bathroom and she heard water running. When he returned, he carried a warm washcloth.

  Nona took it from him, color mounting in her face, embarrassed both by his utter nakedness and his solicitude.

  He bent and kissed her parted lips slowly, lightly, as he drew up the sheet. "I'll give you some privacy, while I take the champagne into the kitchen--despite this little set-back, I think a celebratory toast might be in order." He kissed her again, deeper this time, and Nona could feel a tingle beginning somewhere beneath her ribcage.

  She crept into the bathroom to tidy herself while he was in the kitchen. When the time came to open the door again, she felt shy and knew a strong urge to wrap herself in one of Jude's large green bath sheets. There was no robe to borrow. She stood behind the closed door trying to calm her breathing. What was there to be anxious about, except Jude's disappointment, and wasn't that more than enough? At last Nona opened the door, to find him lounging on the bed, propped on pillows, waiting for her. He was still completely naked, and she could not stop herself from staring.

  "Look all you like," he murmured seductively, holding out a glass filled with rosy champagne. "But allow me the same courtesy. Come here, Nona."

  She went, her entire body blushing, and perched on the edge of the bed. Jude had no patience for her shyness and tugged her to lie next to him, where he tipped champagne into her mouth and kissed her afterwards. Kissing led to touching, touching to teasing caresses and the chilly tingle of champagne and the wet, hot sweep of Jude's tongue in places that shocked Nona, even while they made her blush still darker in pleasure.

  Jude proceeded slowly, so gradually, so sensually, that when he finally entered her a second time she felt no discomfort, only herself melting, dissolving with him, taking each breath as he breathed, moving as he moved, clinging as he gripped her hips.

  It seemed he made love to her all night. Her memory of the long hours in his bed was fractured, filled with glimmering after-images. Brilliant splinters of ecstasy had lodged themselves forever in her mind, bright lights to make the shadowed corners of her eventual obsessive passion all the darker.

  And now, two years later, sleepless in the canopied bed of her childhood, she stared up into the darkness and wondered when her path would cross Jude's. But more than anything, she wondered why he had come to Brookton, and how he had already met her father.

  * * * *

  The axe fell two afternoons later at the tiny market eight blocks from home. Nona needed the air, even in the late afternoon heat, and after checking the street to be sure Jude was not in sight, had walked to the store.

  She had a market basket over her left arm, with her father's list in that same hand and a frozen chicken in the other, when the bell over the shop door tinkled. She looked up out of habit to smile a greeting. Her heart plunged and the chicken fell back among its cousins in the freezer. Jude saw her immediately. His dark eyes met hers and held for long, unbearable moments.

  Dizziness flowered swiftly, darkly. Nona knew that for the third time in her life she was going to faint. Once, after a childhood accident, when she'd gashed her arm at play. And then at church one airless summer Sunday, trapped close between her father and another adult in the crowded pew. Both episodes flashed into her mind now, and she watched the basket tipping, sliding, falling. Eggs shattered on the hard floor, the yellow of the yolks blindingly intense. She could not bear to look at such violent color, and closed her eyes.

  Arms went around her before she struck the floor. Quite clearly Nona heard the storekeeper, Martin Brown, say, "Did she slip in the eggs?"

  "I don't think so." Jude's voice.

  Nona heard everything. She wanted to tell them she was all right, but she couldn't seem to do anything. Even her eyelids were too heavy to move.

  "Nona." Jude's voice was harsh and imperious. "Nona, wake up." He smacked her cheek lightly.

  Nona resented this cruel attention and muttered a protest, which only made Jude work harder at rousing her. He patted her cheek again, then pushed her hair back from her clammy brow. "Nona!"

  "Nona, hon," said Martin.

  Nona opened her eyes slowly. Martin's face swam into focus. He was bent over her with a look of such concern on his face she wanted to ask him what was wrong. Then she saw Jude's face to her left, and her attention riveted there instead. She shivered and struggled to sit upright.

  Jude shook his head. "Just stay where you are for a little, Nona." His dark eyes were commanding, and Nona lay cradled across his thighs without protest for the moment.

  "What happened, hon?" asked Martin. "Did you slip in the eggs and hit your head?"

  "No." Her tongue felt thick and she pressed it against her teeth. "No," she repeated. "I fainted."

  "Why?" Martin had hold of one of her hands and was chafing the wrist. "I mean, are you sick?"

  She shook her head. She couldn't say, "Jude Danzig came into your store, and seeing him is obviously too much for me." Instead she said lamely, "I must've forgotten to breathe, or something."

  "That doesn't sound very likely, Nona. Now, if--"

  "Do you feel like sitting up? Slowly now. And keep breathing." The teasing humor in his eyes was cruelly familiar, as was the hard curve of his mouth.

  "I'm fine," said Nona crossly, struggling to her feet with Martin's help. There was a smudge of flour on her wrist where he had touched it, and Nona found herself staring stupidly at the white streak until Jude spoke again.

  "I think I'd better take you home, Nona."

  "No!" She realized Martin was staring suspiciously. "I--I mean, I've got to finish the shopping--"

  "Leave me your list and I'll pack it up and send it to the house. Do you know where Nona lives, Mr. Danzig?"

  "Of course." Jude nodd
ed and put an arm around her waist.

  Nona struggled, pushing at his hand, but he gave her a black look and she subsided before she embarrassed herself in front of Martin any further. In seconds Jude had her out of the store and halfway down the sidewalk.

  Nona had all she could do to concentrate on not falling, and when he helped her up the wooden steps of the Brinkley place, she made no protest, until he was reaching for the knob on the front door.

  "Jude, no!" Nona pulled away and staggered slightly, heading for the steps.

  "Yes." Jude caught her wrist and tugged her back. "Come in the house, Nona. Don't make a scene where the neighbors can see."

  And suddenly she was inside, blinking in the green darkness after the glare of afternoon.

  The house looked surprisingly well organized for being occupied only a short time. Nona recognized a few of the items scattered about the room--a pre-Columbian statue in a glass case, an ivory fan open on a low table, an Arabic carpet in front of the fat, boxy sofa. The sofa where Jude had once knelt on the floor in front of her, pushed her knees apart and pressed his mouth to her slippery crease, sucking and nuzzling her to a shattering climax--

  "No," she said again, choking on a lump in her throat, turning blindly for the door.

  But Jude was there before her, closing it, taking hold of her shoulders. She pulled away from him and stumbled farther into the room, staring down at the ivory fan on the table.

  Jude's voice came, as she had known it would. "Why did you leave, Nona?"

  She didn't pretend to misunderstand him. "How can you ask me that? You were there. You know what you said."

  "I guess I need you to tell me. What was it?"

  Nona clasped her hands together to keep them still. "Us. You and I. Together..."

  "Making love? Is that what you're talking about?"

  "It was never love. As you told me, Jude." Her words hissed out between her teeth, which were clenched tight. She closed her eyes as well, replaying the same bit of memory that troubled her dreams. There's no need to lie. I'll fuck you all the same.