Knight In Black Leather by Gail Dayton (people reading books .txt) 📗

couldn't do anything for either one of them. He was stuck. Helpless. Practically immobile.

Eli threw off the blanket, managing to keep from tangling it in his wheels before it reached the couch. He picked up the remote, hoping the news could distract him with somebody else's problems instead of his own.

Seven

***

Marilyn's head was pounding like it had a jackhammer and three or four woodpeckers running around loose inside. She folded her arms on the dining table, laid her aching head on them and closed her eyes. She didn't have the energy to do anything more. She heard the squeak of Eli's wheels as he moved around the apartment but didn't look up. That required effort.

"You feeling all right?" he asked from the kitchen.

"My head is killing me." She sat up in her chair and dropped her head forward, stretching her neck. "Just talking to Mom on the phone stresses me out. Spending that much time with her in person is about to explode my brain."

"Why do you?" Eli wheeled back to the table and set a bottle of aspirin in front of her.

"Oh, bless you. I needed those." She took two tablets, washing them down with lukewarm coffee. "Why do I spend time with Mom?"

"Yeah. Want me to warm that up?" He pointed at her cup.

"No, thanks. I've had plenty of stimulation, I think." Marilyn pushed the cup across the table.

Eli collected it and took it to the kitchen to join the others beside the sink. He was trying to be helpful, and succeeding. She would miss that when he was gone.

"Because she's my mother." Marilyn dropped her head to one side this time. That felt good too. "I do love her, even if she drives me crazy. I drive her crazy too, so we're even."

Eli's wheelchair squeaked again and she could tell he was coming closer, even with her eyes closed. Still, she startled when he touched her shoulder. "Lean back a little," he said.

"Why? What are you doing?" But she leaned back even as she asked.

"As long as I'm not ravishing you, why should you care?" He brushed her hair forward over her shoulders and slid a hand onto the back of her neck, above the loose collar of her sweater. Then he started to rub the tension-tight muscles of her neck, digging in hard, the way she liked it.

Marilyn moaned. "Oh, that feels good."

"Anytime," he said. "Anything you want. The offer's open."

"Eli." Then she sighed. "I really wish you would stop. You should know by now that you're not going to scare me off. You can't shock me. And we both know you don't mean it--"

"Do we?" His thumb dug hard into her shoulder muscles, moving from one side to the other and back again, and she groaned. "What makes you so sure? 'Cause I'm not. In fact, I'm pretty damn sure I do mean it."

Marilyn pulled away from his magic hand--what could he do with two of them?--and turned to stare at him. "You couldn't possibly."

"Why not? Because I'm some piece of shit scraped up off the street that you tracked in here without meaning to? No, wait--that's why you want to think I don't mean it." He shoved his wheelchair back, away from her.

Hurt and angry in equal proportions, she grabbed the chair and hauled it back. "Have I ever said or done anything that would even hint that I thought of you like that?"

"Yeah. Just now." He didn't back down. He leaned forward, getting in her face, eyes blazing blue. "You think I'm a joke."

She didn't back down either. "Oh, for--the idea is a joke, Eli. Not you. I'm fourteen years older than you. I have an eighteen-year-old daughter, for heaven's sake. What could you possibly want with me?"

"This." His good hand whipped around her neck and before she knew what he was doing, he was kissing her, mouth open, tongue plunging deep.

Worse, she was kissing him back the same way. Her mouth had opened the instant his lips touched hers. Her tongue slid along his and followed back into his mouth when he retreated. It made her shiver and quake, feel things she hadn't felt in years--maybe not ever. His mouth knew how to tempt, how to tease and tantalize. He was a genius at kissing. It had been so long, she wasn't sure she remembered, but it hadn't been like this before, had it? Wanting like this?

Her whole body burned as old nerve endings came alive again, demanding their due. Her hands wavered in mid-air, not sure what to do with themselves, until they floated downward. One landed on the bare hairy knee of his unbroken leg and curved around it, stroking him, satisfying the urge. The other landed on a plaster cast and shocked her back into herself.

Marilyn jerked away. She stumbled to her feet and across the room, one hand rising to touch her well-kissed mouth. She hummed all over, desire sizzling just under her skin, protesting at being cut off from what it wanted, needed, would die without. "That was a mistake," she said, unable to quite achieve the firm tone she wanted.

"Why?" Eli wheeled his chair toward her. "You liked it. I know you did. Or was that somebody else's tongue in my mouth?"

"Don't, Eli." She tried to move away, but he'd blocked her into the corner between the kitchen counter and the bathroom door.

"Don't what? Don't kiss you? Too late. Don't be crude?" His laughter was harsh. "Too late for that too. Don't want you? It's way the hell too late for that."

What did he mean by that? Then the question skittered away as he wrapped his arm around her waist and leaned his head against her stomach. His broken leg angled into the corner behind her so that she stood virtually between his legs. Standing up had been another mistake, a big one, given the level of his head and the fact that he could get closer to her.

She pushed at his shoulders, trying to push