Friday, May 22, 2015

Romance vs. Sexmance

Romance vs. sexmance.
This is an excerpt from For Richter or Poorer. It is a couple of love scenes. Opinions?
I Want to Know What Love Is
"What do you want to say to me?" Amy asked after Mac left her and Alain alone.
"Say it. Say it now that I'm awake."
"I love you."
Alain closed his eyes. "The one song you haven't sung to me yet is Foreigner's 'I Want to Know What Love Is.' I might be a hillbilly, but I know more music than country and bluegrass."
"Maybe you could sing that one to me."
He opened his eyes. "Do you know it?"
"That's how I feel, Amy. I wanna know what love is. I want you to show me."
"I plan to as soon as you're able."
"I don't mean just sex, Amy."
"Neither do I. Scoot over. I've been up all night."
Alain scooted to give Amy room to lie beside him. He grunted for every muscle ached. She stretched out and covered Alain with her arm. Both slept.
Mac came in with a food tray for Alain. "Uh-hum! This is not a hotel. It's a hospital."
"This is good medicine, doc," Alain joked.
"Could be, but you need to eat right now. Amy, go home for a while. The rain has stopped."
Amy kissed Alain. "I'll be back later. I need to let your family know you're fine. I love you. You just keep remembering that."
"I'll try."
Amy made three trips to the new house to take her things. On the final trip, she took Elvis to his new home. She rubbed the Bassett hound's long ears. "Alain's just about perfect, Elvis. You are gonna love him. I love him. I love Alain Richter."
Amy hugged her dog. "Elvis, I think I've always loved him. I've just been so scared of being hurt again. I really wanna know what love is. Alain and I were meant to be. I feel so free."
Amy showered and changed into a bright red tank top and jeans before she went back to the hospital. Mary was with her father when Amy came in. She hugged Amy.
"That's nice," said Alain. "My two favorite ladies."
"Well," said Amy, "the younger lady needs to go with Uncle Calvin so she can get a good night's sleep and go to school tomorrow. He's waiting."
"Yes, ma'am. Good night, Papa."
"Good night, darling."
Mary went to get some rest. "Mmm," sighed Alain. "Do I sense some bonding between you and my daughter?"
"She's wonderful. You've done a good job with her and Matthew."
Mac came in again. "Are you gonna stay the night, Amy?"
"It's not necessary. Rocky has the night shift."
"Mac, I'm staying with my husband. I would be lost out there in the dark in that king-size bed all alone." Amy winked at Alain.
"I hear you."
"When can I take him home?"
"A couple of days. I'll take his drainage tube out in the morning."
"Did anyone get Fay on the phone? I talked to Matthew. I made him stay at school."
"Thank you," said Alain.
"Jess talked to Fay," said Mac. "She convinced her not to cut her honeymoon short."
"Good," grunted Alain.
"Grouchy," teased Amy.
"I hurt all over," Alain complained. "I wanna sleep in my own bed with my wife."
"I get it," laughed Mac. "You are newlyweds. When I release you, there will be restrictions."
"Take it easy."
"Oh, come on! Surely sex will not be off limits."
Mac chortled. "We'll see." He handed Alain a couple of pills. "Take these and go to sleep. Amy, feel free to snuggle up with him. Good night. I'm leaving you to your brother-in-law. Rocky and Glenda still amaze me. They're like oil and water, but they seem to work, just like you and Amy."
Alain fell asleep quickly, and Amy stepped out. "Mac?"
"I'm leaving."
"Hold up. What restrictions?"
"No driving for two weeks. That's so the anesthesia can get out of his system. No operating machinery. He'll have to stay away from the brewery. You can have sex if he has no trouble breathing. I was teasing him."
Mac laughed. Amy sighed. "We haven't."
"Why not?"
"Did Tipper tell you about us?"
"Yes, I know."
"Well, I guess I still feel dirty."
"Don't, Amy. It wasn't your fault."
She crossed her arms across her chest and rubbed both upper arms vigorously as if she were freezing. "Did he tell you Roscoe raped me?"
"That, too. He was a bastard. Talk to Sunny."
"She was raped in college. You need support. You, Sunny, and Fay should sit down together."
"I need Alain. When we started to have sex, I had flashbacks to Roscoe. Is that normal?"
"Yeah, but Alain loves you. He would never hurt you."
"I love him, too, Mac."
"So, go into the city and buy some sexy lingerie and knock him off his feet. Show the man how much you love him."
Amy hugged Mac. "You really are our homegrown healer, aren't you?"
"I suppose. I know this—you belong with Alain. Remember when we were thirteen and you told me you wanted Alain and I pretended to kiss you because your mother was watching?"
"Yeah, I do."
"Even at thirteen you loved him. Amy, honestly, did you ever think of him when you were with Tipper?"
"A few times."
"So, open your heart all the way. Take the plunge. It's worth the risk."
"I wanna know what love is, Mac. For me, only Alain can show me."
"And only you can show him."

A Real Marriage
Amy slept beside Alain that night. The arrangement was tedious, but she refused to leave. The next morning Mac examined Alain thoroughly.
"Well?" asked Alain impatiently.
"One more day at least. You still have a little rumble in your chest."
"I'm fine."
"Really? Take a deep breath and hold it."
Alain breathed as deeply as he could.
"Uh-hum," the doctor gloated
Alain let the breath out. "You sadistic bastard. Now I hurt."
"One more day if you can breath well enough." Mac handed his patient a breathing machine. "Ten deep breaths now and ten again this afternoon and tonight. Take the pain meds I gave you."
"Stop arguing with your doctor," asserted Amy. "I want you healed."
Alain grinned. "Yes, Mac, this is a real marriage. She's nagging."
Amy folded her arms across her chest. "Mac, if I hit him and he gasps hard will that help him heal?"
"I wish it were that simple. I'd hit him."
Amy kissed Alain. "Listen to Mac. I have some errands. I shall return."
Amy drove into Wilmington. First, she met with Alain's insurance agent. The Camry had been totaled. She then set about finding a new car for Alain, settling on a black Escalade to be delivered that afternoon.
Next she visited the attorney who had drawn up her divorce papers and got him to help her with a will. Alain's close brush with death made her aware of the need to have her affairs in order. As a part of putting her finances straight she visited a different insurance agent and took out three life insurance policies, one with Alain as beneficiary, one with her children as beneficiaries, and one with Tipper as beneficiary.
With the serious, yea, morbid, tasks accomplished, Amy turned to a pleasant endeavor. She booked her and Alain on a Caribbean cruise to sail in two weeks from Miami. By then, Fay and Ira would be back to care for Mary.
In anticipation of a belated honeymoon, Amy shopped. She bought appropriate clothes for the cruise for both herself and her husband. Then, she bought lingerie: a long, slinky, scarlet negligee; a teddy in royal blue with black lace trim; a pink silk baby doll pajama set; and a black leather bustier complete with garter belt, thong, fishnet stockings, stiletto heeled knee-high boots, and riding crop made of satin. As an afterthought, she bought two long black silk scarves. She also bought silk boxers in red, blue, black, and green for Alain. She chuckled. "You wanted sex? Boy! Are you in for a surprise?"
The clerk commented, "That's a variety."
"Thank you."
Amy got back to Possum Holler at dusk. "Where have you been?" Alain demanded. "I was worried a damned deer ran in front of you."
"Nope." She kissed him and handed him the tickets for the cruise. "I was arranging our honeymoon."
Alain looked at the tickets and read the brochure. "What if I get seasick?"
"Mac'll give us some Dramamine. We'll have fun and be back before Harvest Fest where I want a private hayride."
"Planning a trip?" Mac asked as he checked on his patient.
Alain passed over the brochure. "Amy wants to get me in the middle of the ocean."
"Looks like fun. You'll be ready by then."
Mac let Alain go home Friday afternoon. Mary accompanied her father and step-mother. Once to the house, Amy ensconced Alain in their bed and settled Mary in one of the girls' rooms.
"When will your girls come, Momma Amy?"
"Tipper and I decided to wait until Alain and I get back from our trip."
"Will we all be here at one time?"
"I hope so. We can drive your papa crazy with all kinds of girl stuff."
"Like painting fingernails and toenails?"
"That's just one thing. Betsy's starting to wear a little makeup. You should, too. We can buy new clothes and have a fashion show. We can play girl games."
Mary laughed. "Are you and Papa gonna have a baby?"
"Momma and Daddy Ira can't. Momma says he was sick. Is it because he's too old?"
"No. He had mumps when he was young."
"Then, how did he have you?"
"I was a gift he accepted."
"Is that what y'all were talking about the night Papa got hurt?"
"Momma Amy, is Tipper your brother?"
Amy was quiet for a moment. "There are no real secrets in Possum Holler, are there? Yes, he is."
"It doesn't matter. Betsy's my best friend, and, I think, one day she might be my sister-in-law because Matthew really likes her."
"That'll be just fine. I like you and Matthew."
"Momma Amy, do you think Daddy Ira and Momma might be able to have a miracle?"
"You know"—She patted her stepdaughter's hand—"Dr. Mac might be able to help. I'll talk to Fay when they get back. Mary, do you realize we never got to eat our cookies? Let's make some more and share with Papa."
Smelling the aroma of chocolate chip cookies, Alain ambled to the kitchen.
"What are you doing?" Amy scolded.
"Mac didn't say I have to stay in bed, just take it easy. I'm sitting in a chair. I'm waiting for a fresh, hot cookie."
While the cookies baked, Amy made BLT's for supper. Then, the three of them wolfed down a plate of hot cookies with cold milk.
Amy shooed Mary to bed at ten and forced Alain back to bed. "Alone at last," he said.
"Not quite alone. Mary's upstairs."
"Oh, no. You don't get off that easily. That door has a lock on it."
"Alain! You can wait for our honeymoon."
Alain scowled. "I'm so damned rusty, I need the practice."
Amy laughed. "Pouting will not work on me."
"Do you really want to wait ten more days?"
"You need a shower."
"I'll need your help."
"What if I should get dizzy? Or have trouble breathing?"
"Oh, play it up." Amy held out her hand. "Come on."
Alain let the hot water beat on his back. "This feels good. Mmm. The vision before me looks good."
Amy scowled. "Take your shower. I'm sorry, but seeing those bruises reminds me of a rafting trip."
Amy lathered her hands and began to wash Alain. "Oh," he moaned when she touched him. "I remember when you did that on my fourteenth birthday."
Amy kissed Alain's chest. "I remember. Mmm." She smirked. "It appears the little worm grew."
"Worm? This worm needs a little tunnel to hide in."
"You must be a poet with all the metaphors."
They stepped from the shower. Alain maneuvered Amy backward toward the bed.
"Grab a towel," Amy said.
"No." Alain gently pushed Amy onto the bed. Once again his mouth found her breasts and trailed down her torso until his tongue probed her soft folds and he found her throbbing clitoris.
"Oh, my God," breathed Amy as a warm tingling spread over her.
Alain's tongue found the perfect rhythm, and he added fingers to his seduction as Amy tilted to match his cadence.
Amy felt as if she were floating, and a meteor shower took place around her as she exploded with passion. She could hardly breathe as she stuttered, "Alain! Now!" And he was inside her. Each stroke intensified as the yearning of a lifetime came to fruition. Amy bit into Alain's shoulder to keep from screaming as her entire body jerked as if an electrical shock pulsated through her at the same moment Alain throbbed in her in climax and buried his face breathlessly in her neck.
Half an hour later, Alain lay beside his wife and caressed her body. "Am I dreaming?" he whispered.
"If you are, I am. Don't wake me. Nothing has ever felt so perfect."
"Mmm. I'd like to volunteer for seconds, but I'm exhausted."
"We have a honeymoon coming and ten days before that. You definitely need practice."
Alain chuckled. "I promised not to die before I fucked your brains out."
Amy gurgled, "I still have my brains. You have lots of work to do. I love you. Sweet dreams, darling."

The You I See
On Monday, Fay and Ira returned. Amy hated to see Mary leave for she had enjoyed sharing Alain's family.
As they at supper alone Monday night, Amy commented, "I see so much of you in Mary and Matthew."
"That could be Fay you see."
"I don't mean physical appearance, although Matthew is your spitting image. You've instilled excellent qualities in them."
Alain chuckled. Wearing jeans and a green and black striped polo shirt, he pushed back from the table as Amy cleared the dishes. "Leave them. Come here." He patted his leg for Amy to sit on his lap.
Amy sat on Alain's lap and laced her fingers around his neck. He kissed her softly. "What do you see when you look at me? What would you paint if you painted me?"
"I plan to paint you on the beach in Jamaica. You'll have to wait to see."
"All right, but tell me what you see."
"A gift from Heaven crafted directly by the hand of God. You eyes are like emeralds, and when I look into them, I feel fresh like new spring grass. I can taste the delicate sweetness of caramel when my lips brush against your hair." She paused.
"Continue, please. You sound like a poet."
"You're my inspiration, my love."
"As you have always been mine."
"Your skin is like golden filigree on marbled muscle. Your lips are sweeter than honey and more refreshing than the early morning dew."
"Mmm. You're giving me ideas."
"Oh? Would this stimulate the process of those ideas into actions?" Amy unzipped Alain's jeans and slid her hand inside. "My world explodes in a kaleidoscope of joy when I feel you inside me."
"That's it." Alain carried Amy to bed.
At the end of the week, Amy and Alain dropped Elvis at the Campbell residence and drove to Miami to meet their cruise ship. When the captain realized he had an internationally acclaimed artist and a best-selling author, as both Alain's books were on the New York Times bestsellers' list, Amy Dent and Alain Richter had dinner at the captain's table the first night.
Amy wore a crimson crepe evening dress to Alain's tuxedo. "My, you clean up well," Amy complimented.
"Thank you, ma'am, and I do like you in red. You set me on fire."
"Later. Let's get this over with. Did you wear the red boxers?"
"Yes, dear. I can take a hint."
"That way, we match."
"My love, we are a perfect match—period."
Alain struggled through the social nuances of dinner until he realized everyone at the table expected him to be eccentric since they thought most authors were, especially if the author was married to an equally eccentric artist. They had no idea that he simply did not know which fork to use. To escape people he considered downright weird, Alain escorted Amy to the dance floor.
"Whew! How many times have I stuck my foot in my mouth?" he laughed.
"They think you're charming. You are charming. Are you ready to make an exit?"
"As soon as I show you what Felicia Norton taught me." With the reggae music, Alain turned in an acceptable samba to Amy's delight.
Back in their cabin, Alain quickly doffed the tux in lieu of only a pair of silk boxers. Amy exited the bathroom wearing the scarlet negligee.
Alain looked her over. "So we match?"
"So I can set you on fire."
It seemed the room exploded with spontaneous combustion.
Not being tied to a social engagement for the rest of the cruise, Alain and Amy chose the casino and dressy casual clothes for one evening. Amy had laid out Alain's royal blue boxers and surprised him with the blue teddy. "Damn, woman! Do you plan to keep this up when we get home?"
"For the rest of your life."
"I pray for a long life."
They had a three-day stay in Jamaica in a private beach house. The first night there, Amy laid out the green boxers on the bed for Alain. "I could bypass these," he teased.
"But I like the way they feel against your skin," Amy said from the bathroom.
"In that case, I'll give up all other kinds."
"Mmm. Then, I won't be able to keep my hands off you."
Amy wore her pink baby doll pajamas. "Oh," breathed Alain. "Are you trying to project innocence?"
"Pink and green complement so well."
The next morning, Amy pulled Alain from bed early. "Up!"
"Why? Let's sleep in."
"I have painting to do."
"What do you want me to wear?"
"Your skin."
"Are you gonna show it?"
"Possibly, but I'll never sell it."
Amy positioned Alain so the sunrise would be at his back. "Yes! Just like I envisioned it."
After an hour, Alain asked, "Do I get a coffee break? I'm starving."
"Don't move."
Amy brought a tray of croissants and fruit with coffee. Alain had not flinched. "How am I supposed to eat?"
"Take a break."
"Thank you, oh, slave driver."
After midday, Alain went on strike. He refuse to pose without payment. Payment took the rest of the day.
Amy re-posed Alain the next morning, but she had breakfast waiting. Afternoon brought payment. She lay in Alain's arms that night. He asked, "Is the painting finished?"
"No, but I can do the rest when we get home."
The three days back on the ship were spent by the pool. The last night aboard ship, Amy and Alain visited the karaoke bar. Alain kissed Amy's hand and bounded on stage. He selected Chicago's "You're the Inspiration."
You know our love was meant to be
the kind of love that lasts forever…
He went into the crowd to kneel by Amy and serenade her. Caressing her thigh as he sang sent warmth over her body.
You're the meaning in my life
you're the inspiration…
Alain stood and walked to the other side of his wife as the song progressed.
When you love somebody 'til the end of time
When you love somebody, always on my mind
No one needs you more than I.
The crowd erupted with applause at the conclusion. As Alain returned the microphone, to the stage, an older lady beside their table said to Amy, "That was sweet."
Amy nodded. "We're on our honeymoon."
"Congratulations. You should return the compliment."
"Yes, I should."
Amy kissed Alain as they passed each other. She picked up the microphone and started to scan the repertoire of songs, but shook her head. In a sensuous รก cappella she stood beside her husband and sang Roberta Flack's "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face."
The first time ever I saw your face
I thought the sun rose in your eyes…
The bar patrons were perfectly quiet as she whispered to Alain at the end of the song, "I love you so much."
They left the bar wrapped in each other. "What do you plan to wear tonight to match my black boxers?" Alain asked.
"Just wait."
When Amy appeared in her mock dominatrix lingerie, Alain's mouth dropped. "Whoa!"
Amy forced him onto the bed and swiftly knotted one scarf around one wrist and tied the other end to the bed.
"What are you doing?" Alain teased.
"Having my way with you."
"The four-poster would be better for this."
"Bring it."
Amy sighed as they drove into Possum Holler. "It feels good to be home."
"Wear the black tonight."
Amy laughed.
As Alain checked in at the brewery and came home to begin Honor Bound, Amy finished her painting of him. She propped it on the dresser and went to the den to wrap her arms around her husband. "I have something in the bedroom to show you."
"That sounds promising."
"Come see."
Alain stared at the painting entitled "The You I See."
"You can't be serious," he murmured.
"That's how I see you."
The golden glow of the sunrise on the Jamaican beach formed the background for a bronze angel with piercing emerald eyes and caramel hair. In the perfectly chiseled muscles could be seen fine, thin battle scars where the angel had taken the punishment for those he loved. The feathery wings added to the aura of warmth, comfort, and safety. Though the angel's body was bare, the connotation was not sexual, but ethereal.
"I am no angel, Amy."
"You are to me." Amy slip Alain's shirt off his shoulders. With her index fingertip she gently traced one of the fine white scars from where he had frequently been beaten as a child and either the switch or the strap had cut the skin. She whispered, "'By his stripes we are healed.'"
"Those were not my stripes."
"No, but your love has healed my broken spirit. I can't imagine the suffering you endured."
"You upheld me so often. When you touch me, all my scars fade to oblivion."
"Then, let me touch you. Let me love you."
Softly and tenderly, Alain and Amy found a moment of Heaven.

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