Chapter Thirteen

Her heart stopped. She didn’t know what to do. Should she acknowledge Mr. Chapel or stand still until he went away? The idea of Henry Chapel on the other side of her door shook her insides in all directions—it exhilarated her and scared her at the same time. Every cell in her body raced with electricity. Why was he there at that bewitching hour? Her mother always said nothing good happened after midnight. Was Mr. Chapel up to no good? Would she participate in his no good if she opened the door?

Hesitating, she thought of all the reasons she shouldn’t answer the door. How could she allow him to see her in disarray, disassembled from a festive night at the Jazzy Cat? Would he be able to smell the cigarette smoke in her hair and the gin on her breath? She simply couldn’t let him see her that way, but she also couldn’t let him stand out in the cold. Could she? The real question was did she want to let him in? Even though she instinctively knew the answer, she hesitated.

“Uhhh…” She fumbled with her robe belt, tying it very tightly around her waist, and put both hands through the tangled mop on her head.

“Come on Norma, let me in.” The deep voice sounded again with another urgent knock.

How she managed to find the strength to turn the brass locks counterclockwise was beyond her. Once the locks were undone, she pulled at the door with all the energy in her shaking arms until he filled her eyes.

Finally, face-to-face with Henry Chapel, she didn’t know the first thing to do. The breath fled her lungs like she’d been punched in the chest, and her knees nearly buckled as if the person who punched her chest also kicked her knees.

The sight was otherworldly. He was larger than life and beautiful standing under the gas lamp on the steps to her apartment. The last time she got a load of him was Tuesday when she stood in his office. Last time she saw him, he told her there was no chance they’d ever be anything more. So, why was he here?

His eyes were wild and tormented. Perhaps it was the effects of gin. She wasn’t sure. The scent of cigar smoke and sweat wafted from his body. He probably was at a speakeasy doing the good Lord knows what with the good Lord knows who. He stepped closer, his balance perfectly still. Maybe he wasn’t drunk. Norma looked beyond the steps, and the silence of the street echoed in her ears. He was alone, but something nagged at her. Had he been with the blonde Sheba Annabelle from last Friday?

“What are you doing here, Mr. Chapel?” Norma stood fully in the door way. She didn’t give him a sliver of space to lunge in, though he was moments from entering uninvited.

“I’m going to catch my death out here, Miss Hill.” He frowned, rubbing his hands together.

With no time for thinking, he pushed past her small body, invading her space. The whole room seemed to light up with his aura—nothing new there. How did he do that? How did he attract any and everything by just being there?

Unfortunately, she was not immune to him, even after facing his rejection. If anything, she’d become more affected by him. Her body was drawn to his—nothing new there either. Brushing the length of her arm and hip as he strode by, he singed her as he crossed into the interior of her two room apartment. With still shaking hands, she pushed the door closed.

“My word, Norma, it’s colder in here than it is outside.”

He walked over to the fireplace, lifting a match from the small box sitting on top of the fireplace mantel, and lit it without asking. Clearly he didn’t need permission to do anything. He tossed it onto the kindling, which he quickly organized on top of old ashes. The kindling caught a spark and began to smoke and ultimately caught fire to the log above it.

Norma stood back and watched, amazed at how quickly he had started the fire. She’d never been able to start one that quickly. But of course Mr. Chapel could spark a fire in no time flat. The man was capable, and no one could argue otherwise. For the time being, she decided to her hold her tongue about him coming over unannounced at that unacceptable hour.

“Were you out tonight?” He sat on her plush bed, again without asking.

The fire blazed, lighting the room. Norma caught a glimpse of herself in the long mirror nailed on the wall opposite where she stood near Mr. Chapel. Gathering her robe tightly around her, heat pounded against her neck and eased up to her face. She drove a hand through her hair again, taming the curls, wishing he didn’t see her that way. What must he think? He didn’t seem to notice her attire—or lack of it—as he watched the fire gather strength. She wondered again why he ended up at her doorstep. Did he get word she used his name at the Jazzy Cat?

She scanned the small apartment, surveying the items thrown about in haste when she came back from being undercover. Stockings hurled over a nearby chair. Garter belt haphazardly hung from the top of the bedside lampshade. The proof of her outing was all over the room. Perhaps he knew she’d been out but just wanted to hear her admit it. She didn’t answer right away. It wasn’t any of his business.

“I wasn’t out,” she lied straight through her teeth.

“You’re a tough broad, aren’t you, Norma?” He wasn’t smug for once. She shifted her eyes from him.

“Men don’t like weak women. At least not men who are worth their salt,” Norma spit out, walking toward the door. Where did that come from?

His presence caused a war inside of her. The feeling was foreign, and she didn’t know what could give her relief. She didn’t know how to trust herself now that he was in her home, in her space.

“But there is a weakness in trying to pretend to be strong, don’t you think?” His words were heavy, his eyes were, too.

“I don’t know why you’re here. You made yourself clear the other day.” Heat crept up her face again. Walking to the door was a challenge, but she needed to take back control. Especially since what she wanted to do wasn’t feasible. “I think your unwelcome has come to an end, Mr. Chapel.” She pressed a hand to her hot forehead.

His languorous walk to the door defied her command for him to leave. He wasn’t going anywhere. Her blood boiled with his blatant disregard for her. How was he always able to get to her? She never knew such men could exist.

Perhaps this is the type of spell that caused Bonnie Braun to refer to herself as the former Mrs. Charles Hill after years of being divorced.

Norma underestimated the power of the dominant sex. Just one word—the right word—from Mr. Chapel, and she would drop her guard and in a flash.

Steady in her resolve, she pulled the door open. She needed him gone more than she needed air.

He didn’t make a move right away, just watched her with eagle-like precision.

She’d stand there all night if she had to as long as he didn’t say a word or touch her. Though that is exactly what he did. A warm hand wrapped around the circumference of her slender arm, tight and commanding.

If she looked at him, it would be over.

“It’s not what I want. Is this what you want?” he asked.

Silence. She didn’t know what to say. Her gaze shifted to the floor, heart pounding so hard it ached. He wanted to stay?

“Norma. Look me in the eyes and tell me you want me to leave, and I will.”

His musty scent lingered in her nostrils, heat radiating from his body. Warming her.

No rationalization for what was happening. Only that what they felt was mutual in that moment. How long would it last? Would he reject her in the morning? Her lazy eyes lifted to his, dark and raging, and that was all he needed to move forward.

His strong hand pushed the door shut, and with both hands lifted her in one effortless motion. She yelped at the loss of control. Only his heavy breathing sounded as his urgent legs crossed the room to the pinnacle of her bed.

He didn’t say a word, neither did she. Their bodies spoke when their mouths went silent. Her body crashed against the bed moments before his lips slammed against hers. Finally, lips against lips; it was heaven.

How could she go on with possibly never kissing him again? She couldn’t think of that; she could only kiss him back with as much intensity and lust. His kiss enraptured her. Scared her. Took her to another dimension. With his lips, he took her to another world she never knew existed. A world where she wanted to give herself to him, fully.

Henry opened her robe with delicate precision, mouth still on hers, and found her warm body heaving and desperate for his touch. Desperate didn’t begin to describe what she was. Her mouth opened for him further as he deepened the kiss while his hands explored the long lines of skin. She whimpered at the touch of his fingertips. Not enough though. She wanted them inside her somehow. She wanted him to touch her soul with those fingers. Loving him would be easy.

The robe slid to the floor. His eyes lit up and turned dark again as his face lowered once more. His jaw clenched. He controlled himself—like he always did. Her nether region pulsed. She was falling uncontrollably; even her breathing was difficult to control. She wanted to faint with the sensations he gave her. So much for not swooning in his presence.

His lips danced above her mouth, teasing her, warning her of what was to come. Whatever was to come, one thing was for sure. She passed the point of no return. She passed imagining what the moment of utter surrender would feel like. Since college, she’d romanticized this day in her mind, though she never thought she’d succumb to a man like Henry Chapel.

Her naked body pressed against the silky sheets underneath his hands. Fully clothed, he hovered over her, hands running over every curve of her body. She was intoxicated with him, if it was possible to be intoxicated with a person. Gin didn’t have anything on Henry Chapel. She moaned, wondering if being with Henry was always that delectable. She wondered what the full extent of his capabilities was, forcing away the thought of how many other women knew what those capabilities were.

Mouth colliding with hers again, he kissed her fully. With some bank of untapped instincts, she matched his excitement. She wrapped her legs around his waist because it seemed natural to do so at the moment. It also felt natural for her to lift her pelvis against his body. She moaned and wanted so much more; she didn’t know how to ask for what she wanted.

“You’re so beautiful,” Henry moaned in her ear. “Too beautiful…” His voice sent chills down her spine. He continued to speak in the tight space between her neck and jaw while he urgently threw off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt with contained grace—he had a talent for it. “I want you, Norma. I want to feel you…”

He tossed his shirt to the floor, his broad chest a network of sinews glistening like a statue of a Greek god in the dim room. All thumbs and fingers, Norma reached blindly to unbutton his trousers. While her hands worked frantically, something hard hit against her fingers. She quivered deep inside. That hard something battled against the taut material and struggled to find freedom.

When she pulled at his trousers to free him from the constricting material, he spilled out in her hand. Her first inkling was to run away, though her curiosity kept her hand firm around his silky skin. The size was incredible and alarming. What would he do to her with it? Her insides quivered at the thought.

“Henry,” Norma whispered, his shaft still nestled between her fingers as the uncertainty widened her eyes.

“If you want me to stop, baby, you better tell me now, because if I touch you one more time, I won’t be able to.” Henry closed his eyes, breathing as if he had just danced the Charleston.

If he stopped, she could die. She wanted him to continue devouring her, making her feel like a woman should. She wondered how she’d lived twenty-five years and never felt such pleasures—not that she ever gave anyone a chance. Having him inside her became her most urgent need. Forget sleeping. Forget what tomorrow’s thoughts might be. She wanted him to ravish her with every part of him. And she wanted it now.

“No,” she whimpered. “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t.

She opened to him effortlessly. Easy.

His hand inched down the length of her body until his fingers played with her most secret places. He teased her blossoming folds at the apex of her thighs.

Delicious and tortuous at the same time, her moaning coaxed him on. She arched her back and moved her pelvis against his hand, the heavy build up in her belly becoming unbearable. How could she find relief from the sensation? She moaned as he touched her further.

The sounds of his chuckle sent tingles down her spine. Could he tell what was on her mind? Could he see her secret thoughts through her eyes? If he could, she wasn’t sure; his face appeared calmer than she’d ever seen it. If he knew she wasn’t experienced, he didn’t show it. He encouraged her with his eyes and welcomed her to lose all self-consciousness—as if she could do anything else.

“Henry, I want you. So much. I want this,” Norma moaned, arching her back.

His skin came into contact with hers, it melted on her.

“Easy, baby. I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice husky and controlled.

“Hurt me, Henry. Please, I want you to hurt me.” What did that mean? She wasn’t sure and didn’t want to think too much into it. For once, she wasn’t thinking, just doing.

He chuckled deep in his throat, and she moaned in response. Her body was a beacon for his sexual prowess, and she desperately wanted to know the full extent of what he could do. She wanted to know how far he’d take her—she couldn’t stand it if he didn’t.

“You should be careful of what you ask for, doll face.” His voice low and full of contained sexual energy. He was a master at containing himself at the Daily and was no different in her bed.

With those words, Henry caressed her cheek. His stare sliced through her soul—penetrated it. The dim light danced on his face, and though it seemed impossible, he was even more beautiful. His lips were swollen from kissing her until she couldn’t think at all. What must she look like to him? Bringing his lips to her partially opened mouth, he softly coaxed her lips open. His tongue dashed around, tangling with hers then exploring her mouth. She pulsed with every flick of his tongue, every touch of his hands on her skin. She was completely his, no denying it.

He moaned inside her mouth, kisses grew harder as did his erection against her thigh. She reached down to touch him, doing so with very little grace. Smiling, she knew he appreciated the effort. Stroking him, she liked the hard contradiction that was his silky erection. Up and down, her hand rubbed against both their bodies as she played with him. He responded with a moan, and she quickened her feat. She wanted to please him.

“Easy,” he said, breaking the kiss.

She released him, the breath pressed out of her lungs. “Henry...”

His smile disintegrated her. His eyes captivated her. His touch burned her skin. She wanted more and more, and he gave her more and more.

Running his hand down her torso, he found the curling triangle between her thighs and caressed her there. The moisture slicked his fingers as he encouraged the dull buildup in her pelvis. She squirmed, didn’t know what to do with the sensations. He didn’t stop. A gentle finger touched her clit, making her moan louder.

“Henry,” she cried, her legs parting wider involuntarily.

“Do you like that?” he asked, still strumming at her.

“Mmm…”

He chuckled. “You’re unbelievable, Miss Hill,” he said, “I want this.” He drove a finger inside her; she clenched around him. “You have no idea how much I want this.”

Finally, after he heightened her senses and she’d thought she’d explode, he planted himself firmly between her thighs. She looked up to him, his eyes dark and stormy. He was on the brink, she could tell. Mouth partially open and eyes half closed. It thrilled her to know she made him feel that.

****

She squirmed under him as he began to enter her.

“It hurts,” she cried.

Henry hovered over her, not fully entering yet, and studied her face. She was so innocent and unsure of herself. He searched deep in her eyes and saw the flicker of something troubling her. His heart stopped. Could she be? He felt a pull in his stomach. Is she a virgin? The thought of Norma never being with a man before him made him apprehensive. Perhaps his past female companions weren’t the best example of all women. He started to feel unworthy.

“I hurt you?” He hovered over her, biceps bulging with his weight on his hands. He hated he might have hurt her. It was the last thing he wanted to do.

“No!” Her eyes pleaded. “I just…I’m not used to this…” She confirmed what he thought.

“Am I…the first?” His voice was small—he never had a small anything.

Nodding in slow movements, her eyes grew with trepidation, then shifted away when she couldn’t find the words. Being her first carried a lot of responsibility. He didn’t want to be some random brute to take her special gift and toss her aside like a leaf in the wind. He hadn’t had a first anything since Mae, his college sweetheart whom he was engaged to for a short time.

Damn.

He didn’t want to stop. He wanted to make love to Norma more than anyone he’d ever known.

Did it make a difference? His intentions were pure with her, probably the purest intention he’d ever had. He looked down on her fright-filled face, her eyes large and dewy. Her lips trembled, even. God, she was beautiful. His heart thumped. Eyes softening, he knew what he felt…honored. He would be honored to be her first. And he wouldn’t toss her aside like a leaf in the wind.

“Please Henry, make love to me,” she whimpered. Her arms pulled at his shoulders. She wanted him close.

Eyes squeezed shut, he hung his head. Lips finding hers instinctually, they kissed like starved beasts. Her mouth was sweet; it was like the nectar of the gods to him. He plunged his tongue into her, tasting her until he found his body moving against her again. She moved against him as well. And as if their bodies were meant for each other, the tip of him easily found her center. No more waiting. No more worries. He pressed himself inside her, and he was forever her first.

****

“Ahh…you feel…ab-so-lute-ly amazing,” he grunted.

Full didn’t begin to describe how she felt as he drove himself inside her depth with expertise. She cried out in response, the pulling skin and ache within unleashed itself as his body joined with hers. He pressed until she could accommodate his size, which was no small feat. She felt torn open in more ways than one. With every thrust, he went deeper and deeper until waves of fire streamed through her body.

He pumped himself in and out of her with steady movements, his body moving gracefully as he brought the stirring deep ache to the surface. Waves of pleasure traveled through her at lightning speed, and before she could take another breath, she found the relief she begged for—screamed it out for him to hear. Loving him was indeed easy.

****

The day came in streams through Norma’s sheer curtains and danced on her face. She could smell her night of passion with Henry, and it took her to that place again. She turned over, and Henry must have regressed to their love making and hungered for it again as well, as his fingers weaved through a chunk of her messy short curls. He held her still against the thick pillow. Soft lips moved down her naked back, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake; she ached for him again.

“Beautiful.” He continued to press wet kisses against her body.

“Henry,” she moaned into the pillow.

Her eyes closed with ecstasy stirring in her private regions. The soreness at the apex of her thighs didn’t stop her from wanting him again, and as his tongue traveled down her lower back to her buttocks, the familiar tug of desire awoke her insides. Her breath caught in her throat at the new sensations of his mouth over her buttocks. Where was he going with that? She squirmed under his mouth as he placed a firm hand on her hip, soothing her with his candied words.

“Relax,” he said. “Let me show you a different way I can make you feel good.” He kissed at her skin, nipping her with his teeth and stubble on his face. The air freezing the wet pools he left behind. Then he said, “That’s what I want. You to feel good.”

He pulled at her hips with the strength of both his hands, forcing her to rise to her knees. Her heart beat double time. What was he doing? Why was he behind her like that? Her face turned behind, her neck straining to face him. “Henry…”

“Trust me.” His hands rubbed down the length of her back, soothing the sensitive skin, rubbing it to submission. “Do you trust me, Norma?”

His erection settled against the split of her buttocks. She gulped heavily. “Yes.”

She drew her lips inside her mouth with every touch of Henry’s body. She could feel his hard shaft against her, ready to take over her body. Ready to give her pleasures of the unknown. Though she was uncertain about her positioning, she backed her bottom into him, the shock of his warm skin entering her, filling her. She never knew making love that way was possible and could be so delectable. Perhaps it was just Henry that made it delectable. Soon, she found his rhythm, and they moved to climax once again.

“You’re like an angel fallen from the sky.” Henry looked down on her face after their lovemaking. His erratic breathing slowed to a normal rhythm.

She looked away. She didn’t know about being an angel fallen from the sky. What she did know, without a doubt, was she fell for him.

“You cut your hair,” he observed.

Her eyes shifted back to his face. “I thought you’d never notice.” She ran a hand through her tangles.

“I noticed.” He said nothing else then, just as he never mentioned it on Tuesday. On Tuesday, he was her boss, and she was his subordinate. What was she to him now?

“I suppose you like me better with long hair?” She bit her bottom lip.

“I’m not interested in your hair, Miss Hill.” His eyes were soft and serene. He looked as if he could be lounging on a beach on a tropical island.

Norma smiled, smothering her face in the pillow. He had the amazing ability to make her feel insecure and desirable at the same time.

“You’re not so tough, are you, Norma.”

She looked up. “I am tough,” she said after a beat.

She frowned, that shield she always wore resurfaced—funny how she didn’t notice it was gone until then. Henry brought down her walls.

“Don’t do that,” he said. “Don’t put up your walls again. Letting down your guard doesn’t make you weak.”

“Weak women don’t get what they want.” She pushed away, covering her nude body with the heavy cotton blanket haphazardly hanging off the bed. She had to put something between their naked bodies.

“A tough woman may not get what she wants either.” Henry pulled at the blanket. It would appear he wanted her naked during that conversation.

“My mother was weak, and my father left her. She let him do to her as he wished,” Norma spit out. She didn’t realize until then how much her parents’ relationship affected her.

But Henry didn’t need to know that information. Not when she didn’t know where she stood with him. How much of her heart should bare to him? How much of her truth could she trust him with?

Henry was silent for a few moments. His face loosened, and his hesitation was not at all the Henry Chapel he showed the world.

“You’re not your mother, Norma.” His words soothed her, hands soothed her too.

She considered what he said, leaning into his touch on her arm. No, she wasn’t her mother. She would never be a woman who let a man devastate her for the nearly three decades. Her face relaxed as her eyes lifted to his softened gaze. His eyes were like emeralds gleaming under a stream.

“No, I’m not.” Sitting up, she pulled her knees into her body.

Henry reached over and tucked a loose curl behind her ear. His mouth broke into a delicate smile, one she had never seen before. He looked young and innocent. She hardly recognized the shrewd boss everyone knew him to be. “In fact, Miss Hill, I think you are quite extraordinary. In all the ways a person can be.”

Her heart swelled.

“I really wanted to hate you.” She looked away from his gentle stare.

His chuckle broke through the tense air. It sounded beautiful and melodic in her ears. “I was under the impression that you do.”

She smiled.

“You intrigue me, Norma.” His face grew serious again, eyes darkening once more. “So much. You’ve…changed me.”

“You’ve changed me,” she said without thinking. It was the most authentic thing she’d said.

He pulled her into him, bringing his lips to hers, kissing her until she was breathless.

“I guess you’re not just my boss.” What are you then, now that you’re my first? She couldn’t bring herself to ask.

“I guess not…” His gaze traced the line of the window and then returned back to her face. “And I suppose the empty claim of it not happening again, whatever it was is null and void?”

“I’m glad you saw it as an empty claim.” She looked away.

Enough had been said. She didn’t want him to say anymore, and she didn’t want to think further about what they had done. She didn’t want to think about how their actions had changed the course of their relationship, or how making love had irrevocably changed her. She didn’t know how she would reconcile that she’d given Henry a very sacred part of herself. Even after holding back all those years, avoiding intimacy, Henry let her open up like a spring flower. She didn’t have any regrets. But he was still her boss, and she was still his subordinate. Making love didn’t change that.

Could their lives resume come Monday? Hers couldn’t. She quelled the thought and grabbed his face with both hands, looking deep into his eyes and kissed him. He responded to her instantly and took over. He delved himself between her thighs, and she knew what would happen next.

****

Henry couldn’t believe he was about to make love to her again. She was so beautiful. Could he get enough of her skin…her lips…her eyes? She intoxicated him. Not all the gin in the world could give him the high she gave him. Not all the Pulitzers could satisfy him the way she did. She got him. She got him good, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

He parted her thighs and placed himself between them. Her skin was silky to his touch. He hungrily kissed her neck, one hand cupping her breast and the other cradling the back of her head. He drew her pink nipple in his mouth, greedily sucking on it. Sweet. He then went for the other nipple and tugged on it with his dexterous fingers. The sounds of her moans pushed him over the brink.

“Norma…” he whispered between mouthfuls of her skin.

“Henry!” She grabbed a handful of his hair.

“I can’t get enough of you.” He moaned.

“You don’t have to.”

She reached out to him, and it was obvious she wanted him. Her eyes invited and reassured him to continue with what their bodies demanded.

He closed his eyes, allowing her to pull him against her. He stroked her face, her lips parted, and he planted his lips square on hers. Kissing her with gentle lips and tongue, he refused to think about the consequences.

They were nothing but panting bodies after he tore himself from her mouth. He looked down on her once again before he fully pressed himself into her. She yelped, but he didn’t stop. Body warm and moist around him, he lost himself in her once again.