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Bill Newman

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EXCERPT

“You haven’t told me much about where you live,” John said.

“Avalon? It’s a beautiful place. Surf beach on one side and the Pittwater harbor on the other. The best homes in Avalon are along the ocean frontage on the east side, or have the Pittwater views on the west. I live in between in a ‘weekender’ that my family bought twenty years ago. I have many happy childhood memories of our little weatherboard house with the tin roof that sings in the rain. It’s only a ten-minute stroll to the village or to the beach. You’d love it.”

“Yes. It sounds great,” John said.

Lydia had already made up her mind to invite him to stay with her. Was this the right moment? “Anyway, my favorite part of the whole house is the deck. It’s where I work best. Have I painted a good enough picture?”

“Perfect. I can see it now, little Lydia coming off the beach and treading sand into the house. And your mom and dad saying, ‘There’s more sand in here than the Sahara Desert.’”

“My mom and dad are divorced.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

She grinned. “I said they were divorced, not dead. The house belongs to my mom now. I’ll show it to you before you leave.”

“Yes, I’d like to see the sun coming up over Avalon.”

Lydia dug him in the ribs. “That would require...” She left the sentence unfinished, but noted that he blushed.

“Why don’t you come over here and work? You might even be able work for our Navy.”

“You’d have me?”

“I could do worse.” Oh God, did I say that?

Before John could think of a suitable riposte, Shirley interrupted them. She clomped into the bar covered in snow. Some of it even followed in behind her, as if to let those inside know that Mother Nature was in charge.

“Has the storm ended yet?” Lydia said.

“Duh! Does it look like it? Anyway, I’m sorry to break up your tête-à-tête, but I just got a call from Hetherington.”

“He was coming but got stuck in the snow?” John asked.

“No, he wants you to call him.”

“What did he want?”

“Well, it didn’t sound like he wanted you to make up a fourth for bridge this weekend. Here’s his number,” Shirley said, handing him a piece of paper and her cell phone.

“Damn! Why do I think this is going to be bad news?” John said.

Lydia looked worried, too, but didn’t say anything. John made the call. The two women listened to John’s half of the conversation.

“Rupert, it’s John. What’s up?” … “Couldn’t they wait another week?” … “What’s the problem anyway?” … “They couldn’t tell you!” … “Okay. I know, just following orders, right?”

“Fuck it! They want me back in England a week early. Flight’s booked for this Saturday at noon. Hetherington has kindly checked me into a hotel at the airport for Friday night, and he’ll be here tomorrow morning to pick me up.”

“I’ll take you back early Saturday morning,” Lydia said. “If we leave at five we can make it. Call him back and tell him.”

“You’ll miss a day of skiing,” John said.

“Better than missing a day with you,” Lydia replied.

Shirley snapped her head around and stared into Lydia’s eyes. Lydia met the stare with a smile. “I need to go to the loo,” Shirley said, nodding her head in the direction of the washrooms.

Lydia followed her. “Make the call, John,” she said, over her shoulder. It sounded more like a plea than a command.

The two women were the only ones in the washroom. “So, what’s this all about?” Shirley asked.

“I was kidding.”

“Oh, were you? The dreamy look in your eyes didn’t tell me that.”

“He’s nice.”

“Yeah, and in forty-eight hours he’ll be ten-thousand miles away.”

* * * *

The others had gone out for the evening on a tour of Thredbo’s bars. Shirley had engineered it. She realized Lydia wanted the time alone with John and headed off complaints from the less sensitive members of the group that they were being party-poopers.

“I thought they’d never leave,” Lydia said, as she closed the door on the departing group of eight.

“They were just teasing us. You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out that we wanted to be alone.”

“I’m not very good at this, John.”

He said nothing but brought his lips close to hers. They came together like the north and south poles of two magnets. She opened her mouth and they savored the sweetness of each other. Their tongues met, feeling each other out.

Lydia broke off. “Come on. Knowing that lot, they’ll want to turn in early tonight.”

She led the way to her bedroom. “Let me undress you,” he said. He undid her belt, then the waist-button, next the zipper, and pulled her jeans over her hips.

“Now my turn,” she said.

They alternated until she wore the only item of clothing he didn’t have. He pulled her close to him and ran his right hand up her back to release her bra. The garment dropped to the floor.

Lydia wondered what he thought of her body. Did he like big breasts? Hers weren’t. Did the rest of her make up for it? And what about him? Some of her boyfriends had small penises. His wasn’t. Far from it. Her gaze moved to the rest of his body. Hmm, pecs and abs are sharply defined.

He pulled her into a tight embrace, her tits against his chest and his protruding penis against her stomach. She put her hands on his bum and he tightened his gluts.

“Whoa, everything is rock hard.”

John laughed. “That kind of compliment is difficult to beat.”

“Your compliment to me is implicit,” she said, rubbing her stomach against him.

He pulled back the covers and got into bed. Lydia joined him. He put one arm around her neck and pulled them into a face-to-face embrace. She found it impossible to resist his cute lips, and opened her mouth to plant a sloppy kiss on him. He moved his free hand down between her legs.

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