His Sugar Baby(11)
Chapter Four
After retrieving her car and returning to her apartment, Cathy went into her bedroom intending only a quick change of clothing before she left to visit her daughter at the hospital. When she had been preoccupied with her post-coital conversation with Michael, she had been only marginally aware of how she felt physically. Now, as she pulled off her rumpled clothes, she was aware of every twinge and ache.
Her body was unusually stiff, especially the muscles of her inner thighs and elsewhere that had not been used or stretched in a long time. Her bra rubbed uncomfortably against the peaks of her sensitive breasts, and it was a relief to rid herself of the lacy garment. She glanced down at herself. Her nipples were reddened and felt chapped.
Changing her mind about redressing, Cathy filled the bathtub and poured in Epsom salts. She lowered her protesting body into the soothing warmth. Leaning her head back against the tile wall, she closed her eyes. Raising her wet hands out of the water, she cupped her breasts and drew her thumbs firmly over her nipples. They budded instantly. She shuddered, recalling how it had felt to have Michael’s skilled hands and his hot marauding mouth suckling her breasts.
However reluctantly she had entered upon this affair, despite her guilt and shame, her body had been powerfully aroused. Just thinking about how Michael had touched her, how he had made her convulse with pleasure, caused liquid heat to pool between her thighs.
Cathy could scarcely comprehend what had happened to her. She didn’t understand. How could the sexual experience with a stranger have been so good? The lovemaking with her ex-husband had always been disappointing. She had thought something was wrong with her. She had believed that she was somehow inadequate in her emotional and physical makeup. Her ex had done nothing to counter her low self-esteem. He had freely and frequently expressed his belief that she was frigid.
What a na?ve twit I was, Cathy thought in disgust. In one night, a stranger had overturned everything that she had ever believed about herself.
Now she knew that Rick had been the one who was inadequate. He had been a selfish lover, rarely expending any energy in seeing that she was aroused, instead being wholly centered on his own pleasure. Under his impatient tutelage she had learned how to “service” a man. It had been just as cold and mechanical as that.
As she relaxed in the warm, soothing water, absently running her fingers over her body, the thought drifted through her mind to wonder what more Michael could teach her.
Cathy sat straight up in the tub, sloshing bathwater over the side to splash on the linoleum floor. What was she thinking? She shook her head hard to clear it. She had not entered into this arrangement to learn anything. This was a business arrangement. How could she even begin to think about actually seeking to take pleasure in it or – or anything like that! She was a moral person. What she was doing was wrong on so many levels. It would never have occurred to her to do anything like this. Extreme need had led her outside the norm. She hadn’t had much choice, she thought somberly.
Cathy climbed out of the tub and toweled dry and then mopped up the water on the floor with her towel. She dressed in a pale-gray suit over a button-down blouse and slipped on a pair of soft bone pumps. She swiftly put up her hair and did her makeup. As she picked up her purse and left the apartment, she firmly banished from her mind any more stupid thoughts. She also suppressed the image of a disturbingly attractive, sexy man.
Cathy pushed open the heavy gray metal door and entered her daughter’s hospital room. She was struck, as she always was, by how small her little girl looked in the large hospital bed. The girl’s expression was somber, her tiny mouth drooped. There was a coloring book on her lap, and she listlessly moved a crayon against the paper. A wave of overpowering love rushed through her. “Hi, baby.”
Her daughter’s head shot up. Chloe’s small, wan face was transformed by a gap-toothed smile. Her brown eyes sparkled. “Mommy!”
“I brought you some Skittles.” Out of her shoulder bag, Cathy pulled a small Ziploc bag containing a half-dozen of the round brightly colored candies.
“Yeah!” Chloe made a clumsy grab for the Ziploc, and laughing, Cathy let her have it. Chloe opened the Ziploc. “I love Skittles!”
“I know you do.” Cathy sat down on the bed and warmly kissed the top of her daughter’s head. Chloe was wearing a new hat, a silken skull cap printed with a wild array of pink and yellow flowers. “I like your hat today. All you need are some hoop earrings, and you’d look like a gypsy fortuneteller.”
Her daughter looked pleased. “Can you get me pink earrings?”
“I’ll look,” Cathy promised, nodding. Her daughter had always loved hats, which was an especially fortunate thing once Chloe’s hair had fallen out.
Cathy’s best friend, an Internet administrator, had designed and set up a web page on Chloe’s behalf. Thanks to the web page, word had gotten out about what a fashion maven the seven-year-old was, and small hats, caps and scarves of all kinds had been sent to her. A sanitized collection of the head gear had been stashed in a trunk in the closet of Chloe’s private hospital room. Chloe had long been a favorite on the floor, and the nurses on duty made a game of it each day to ask Chloe which hat she wanted to wear. It was one small way to distract a sick little girl from the grim realities of life in the cancer ward. Cathy knew that Chloe took delight in surprising her, so she always made a special point of noticing what Chloe had chosen.