Tracy

038:

Texas, even in December, was humid.

Tracy had been here before, but not for a long time. It caught her unaware and made the sweat against her neck and between her breasts run like slime.

Raine had brought gifts for his Aunt and Uncle and this would be Christmas for them, a few weeks early. It was just a weekend trip.

Aunt Mag was a large-boned woman, with darkly graying hair, cut short and curly on the top of her head. Her eyes were dull and gray as well, and for a split second, Tracy had the impression she was blind. It didn't last, and when she turned them on Tracy, they were evaluating her for possibilities. They did not exchange hugs--- but their stiltedness wasn't uncomfortable.

Food was waiting the minute they arrived. Full platters of country-fried steak, mashed potatoes and gravy, several jello salads, with pickles and celery on the side in little glass jars. Homemade bread was slathered in real butter. Aunt Mag and Uncle John began passing the trays as soon as they were seated, without a blessing on the food. And instantly they began telling Tracy about Raine's upbringing in several different fashions and quickly, as if she might leave before they got it all out. The main gist was that after the tragic demise of his parents, these good people had raised him. They had children of their own who didn't live nearby and were quite a bit older. They always considered Raine their nephew, never their son, and they made that quiet clear, causing Tracy's left eyebrow to quirk up in silent query. Raine's next suggestion was that he take her for a walk in their gardens and maybe down to the beach. This was the Gulf, and she hadn't seen the Gulf.

Tracy had only seen the Gulf from the air and was excited to set foot in it, finding the water to be warm enough for wading, even though she hadn't brought a swimming suit, she was tempted to strip down to bra and underwear. She gave Raine a flirty eye, and jerked her head in the direction of the hazy blue.

"What? You want to go swimming? I didn't bring any----."

Tracy pulled on his collar and batted her eyes. "Come on. Right now. Be spontaneous."

He eyed her appreciatively, and then smoothed the back of her bodice, as her skirt flared and whipped against her legs in the salt-smelling breeze. His lady would have him swim, then they would swim.

He unzipped the top, clear to the end of her back, her eyes on him contemplatively. "This will test my restraint sorely."

"Are you a virgin, Raine?" She grinned sweetly, wondering for the first time how he could possibly be.

"Sadly, I am not offering myself to you as a novice. But a man with some experience and a good heart to stay faithful forever."

"Anyone special I should know about?" The dress fell down to her elbows, catching on her breasts and holding there, stretched taut. The single strands of hair blew across her eyes and one hand rose to hold them, she let that sleeve fall off her wrist and tumble around her waist. The lacy bra left nothing to the imagination.

Raine took a deep breath and held it, not able to avert his eyes from her display.

"There was a girl in Cartagena. Melissa, her name was. I fancied myself for a time, possibly in love with her."

"And this Columbian beauty, why did you leave her?"

"Her father scared the hell out of me."

Tracy's eyes mocked him and sparkled with interest. "He had a gun?"

"More like an arsenal, and the sun rose and set on his twin daughters. He was a very powerful man, dealing in things better left in South America."

"And she is the only one?"

"There were a few more. And you, you seem too pure."

Tracy drew in her breath and pursed her lips, debating whether to be honest. He read the indecision in her eyes. He made the cupped hand motion for more information with as she stepped forward, her dress falling completely to her waist. She lifted his polo shirt over his head and shivered at the sight of those well-toned muscles. His chest was hair-less, smooth skin tanned, and his eyes held hers steadily, as they ascertained whether he met his lady's standards.

Her nimble fingers went to his belt buckle and rested there. "There was a guy. A guy who convinced me he needed my virginity. I was fourteen. He dumped me. And that, as they say, is that."

Raine hooked his thumbs in the material of her folded down dress, watching the rise and fall of her creamy pale skin. Slowly, his palms rose to splay against her sides, stroking the quivering flesh causing goose-bumps to rise and blush to tinge her cheeks, but her eyes never left his.

"No one else?" He breathed against her, pulling her close so that their stomachs touched and he could see through the satiny lace that was all that held those puckered nipples away from him. Her shoulders rose and fell, and her voice was husky.

"I was married once, you know. Our honeymoon was spent flying home to the states to meet my adopted family. Our plane went down in the Black Hills just south of Custer State Park in South Dakota. I was one of five survivors. Geoff didn't make it. I was sixteen and he was twenty-one." Her eyes traveled out to the Gulf and then back to meet his. "I didn't love him. I didn't even know him. I married him on a whim, to spite Casey. I'm sorry to say, I wasn't a very deep person back then."

Raine's eyes had clouded with emotion. "You've lost so much, my love. The love of biological parents, the love of adoptive parents, a former band member, and a former husband for a day. I'm so sorry."

Her eyes stayed glued to his. "We have that in common then, don't we? We understand loss?"

Raine tilted his face to hers, studying her eyes, the transparent crystal white flecks in them, reflecting the turquoise of the water behind her, and the azure sky forming above. He lowered his lips, nothing platonic about their joining, as he tasted her willingness. The dress fell to the sand and her fingers loosened his shorts so that they too were easy to step out of.

He couldn't even allow himself to look down, knowing his own interest was obvious, and her silky smooth stomach would feel every inch of him. His eyes remained closed, hoping she wore thick white granny briefs like Marilyn Monroe, nothing to tempt him even further. Tracy broke their contact with a mischievous grin, as she tugged him out to the surf, twirling under his outstretched hands and finally plunging them both into the low-lying waves.

It was the first time he'd seen her in the light of day, streaming droplets of water, in the deep indentation of waist and hip, her lower back dimpled slightly, the bikini panties clinging to her like a second skin. Raine remained in at least waist deep, not sure how to respond to this unprecedented display. Both times they 'd been in the water she'd worn the equivalent of a sailor's skivvy from the late 1800's. He swallowed, holding his breath, watching as the tamer waves lapped her thighs.

This was a different girl, she seemed to have lost her inhibitions, and he recalled the night they'd surfed, how she'd been so intent on the water, and the waves, the wind and the freedom the ocean brought. This was like that. Her grins were flirty and free. His mercurial little sea nymph. He lowered himself into the coming waves and swam out to her, grabbing her around the waist and dunking her, just so she'd come up with more tantalizing droplets. She made it hard to think.

Always.

Everything about her fascinated him. The queer combination of platonic fireflies that permeated her outer self, the combustible fire that separated her from everyone else.

He caught her again, curved her into his side. "You want me." A statement of fact. "Why the heck do you want me?"

Her smile was sincere and very clear. "You never stopped caring."

He threw back his head. "You need me."

"Yes. You believe in me. The real me."

******