Deuce's Dancer (7 page)

She groaned and began undressing as soon as he released his hold on her. Her clothes wouldn't come off fast enough to suit him though. Deuce had quickly shed his own, and turned to help her with hers. Her bra ended up on the kitchen counter, while her panties got tossed behind him, where they landed, hanging from the garage door knob.

"Now, woman," he growled in Spanish, pulling her against his body and his Superman erection. "Damn."

It wasn't a curse, it was a compliment. Pilar knew he was exclaiming about the same thing she was experiencing, a surge of lust so deep and urgent that it had her pussy throbbing with need.

Making a sound deep in his throat, Deuce stepped back slightly and turned her to face the glass doors leading to the back yard and the pool. He gave her a sharp crack on her butt, and sent her on her way. "I'll get towels," he told her, though it was obvious that practical matters were far from what he wanted to have on his hands. "Hop into the pool, sugar. I'll be right there."

Pilar gave him a hot glance over her shoulder as she raced toward the pool. A few moments later, she jumped in.

The water was cool, but the warm weather had taken off the worst of the chill. Her nipples drew in tightly, and her hair slicked over her head and shoulders. Deuce came out, throwing towels toward a patio chair as he ran toward the pool.

His splash caught Pilar in the face, but she soon forgot about the water stinging her eyes, as he pulled her underwater.

They tussled for a minute and both came up sputtering, their slippery hands moving all over each other. Deuce dipped down, almost to the water's surface, and took one of Pilar's nipples in his teeth, giving it a sharp tug and nip. Her head fell back as she sucked in a breath of chlorine-scented air. A ripple of pleasure raced from her nipple to her pussy and made her clit spark.

She reached for his erection and caressed him firmly.

"Wait right there," he said, moving away from her. She tried not to pout, but she didn't want to wait at all.

He waded toward the corner where an inflatable pool chair hovered in the water. It was very buoyant and firm. Deuce dragged it toward the steps and held it, gesturing her to come toward him.

Her spanking awaited. Pilar's butt got hot in anticipation.

"Step up on the bottom step and put your belly over the arm of the chair. Yeah, that's it."

His warm hand slid over her dripping bottom, then went down between her legs. "Your pussy is all ready for me, sugar. Maybe I'll skip over the spankin' and go right to the fuckin'."

She whined. "Oh, don't be mean, Deuce." Wriggling her bottom, she tried to coax him.

The hand explored her folds, and when he inserted two fingers, she groaned and arched. Much as she wanted the spanking, she also wanted him inside her. Fortunately, she didn't have to decide.

"Ask nice, sugar."

"Please, spank-man?"

"Good enough." The impact of the first smack was mostly absorbed by the pool float and the water beneath it, but the volley of smacks that followed came too fast to be so easily mitigated.

"Ow! Ah!"

"Get good and wet for me, Lolita Lopez, 'cause Superman is gonna sink in deep."

The spanks came harder, the water on her ass making each slap sting a little more than the last one. She moaned and arched to offer him more of her butt. This wasn't the punishment spanking of the day before. This one came with sexy words, not a lecture. This one had the pleasure of his fingers dipping into her pussy between spanks. This one was delicious and sensual. As her rear got hotter, so did Pilar's core. Eventually, as her flesh smarted and throbbed, her clit throbbed, too.

"Dios," she said on a moan.

Deuce dipped two fingers into her again, and bent to bite her sore ass playfully. "Come off that float and wrap your legs around me, sugar. I'm fixin' to give you the ride of your life."

He was so hard, not one inch of him, from shoulders to thighs, soft in any way. Pilar wrapped her arms around his neck and he guided her butt into place until she was poised above the round, stiff head of his cock. "You want this, chica?"

"Si!"

His answer was a groan as he lowered her down onto his waiting shaft. Lower, lower, until at last she was full of him, stretched tight around him.

"Rock," he said, his face near her ear.

She did as he asked and, together, they made waves in the pool that rippled from end to end. Pilar panted and whimpered as he stroked her deeply. He pressed her up against the pool float, and she arched her back, trying to get her pussy even closer as the feelings of pleasure built higher and higher.

Each stroke sent a fresh shot of urgency through her body. Rocking harder, she reached for the pinnacle. She almost had it. It was so close… Her breath came fast and ragged, her whole body tensing with desperate intensity.

"That's it, sugar," he drawled. "Give it to me."

"Yes, yes, yes!" The tidal surge overwhelmed her and she called his name. He rammed her deeply a few more times, and then let her calm, though she panted and held on to him as for her very survival.

His voice sounded pained when he spoke to her. "I can't come bareback inside you, sweetheart. I won't. Suck me."

Nodding, eager to please him, Pilar dismounted and waited while he climbed onto the edge of the pool and spread his legs.

The pool water was tangy on his skin as she slid her tongue down his length and back up again. He gasped as she wrapped her lips around the head and tickled the opening with the tip of her tongue. Deuce's hands went to her hair and fisted in the thick, wet mass. "That's my girl."

Pilar slowly sucked him into her mouth, deeply enough to feel him near the back of her throat. She laved him with her tongue, and bobbed her head up and down upon him. He guided her rhythm with his hands and they built up a cadence that got progressively faster and harder. She held his cock with her hands as she stroked upwards and caressed his balls as she sucked him deeper. Eventually, they went fast enough that the head of his cock was bouncing on the back of her throat. He moaned and his balls tightened under her fingers.

"Don't stop, sugar. Don't stop."

Pilar's scalp smarted as he pulled on her hair, but she knew he was on the verge and her excitement was so high that she didn't care if it hurt a little. She moaned around him and that was all he needed.

He groaned and arched, pressing deep into her throat. Semen pumped into her, satisfying her need to please him, making her pussy throb in time to his pulses.

"Mmm." He released her hair and leaned back against the concrete. "Thank you, sugar."

"I'm lucky Superman didn't blow off the back of my head with his super-sperm," she teased, licking her lips. The salty, creamy taste of him was pleasant on her tongue. She loved joining with him that way.

He laughed. "I almost did," he confessed. "That was fantastic."

She stroked his cock, encouraging him to stay hard, but he sat up straighter and gently nudged her hand away. "Even Superman needs a rest now and then." He touched her face. "Come up and lay with me in the chaise for a few minutes, Pilar. We'll snuggle."

It was an offer she was glad to accept, though she didn't want their sexy encounter to be over. It brought them too much closer to her confession, and the end of that light of desire in his eyes.

Chapter 7

They lounged around by the pool and made love gently until the evening shadows brought a chill to the air. Deuce made them some chops and salad, and they ate, naked, at his dining room table, with the full regalia of candles and wine. He wryly thought maybe Pilar was inspiring him to become a nudist.

As their more ardent caresses eased to casual touches while cooking, Pilar had gotten progressively more silent. Now, at the table, she was barely responding to his attempt at conversation.

"Pilar, what's wrong?"

She kept her eyes on her uneaten food. "Nothing."

He touched her hand and she put her fork down. "Don't lie to me. It's obvious that something is bothering you, sugar. Why not get it out?"

"Yeah…well…"

He sighed and drew his hand up her forearm. He got no response, so he leaned back in his chair and watched her for a moment. Something was seriously wrong, but she was afraid to say what. Deuce couldn't imagine what he'd done to put that fear in her. "There isn't anything you can't tell me, Pilar."

She sighed, her eyes still downcast. "I wish that was true."

"Of course it's true." He reached over and tilted her chin up. She was reluctant to look at him, but she finally did. Her eyes were deeply troubled, and wet as though tears were forming. As he watched, a fat droplet slid down her cheek. "Aw, sugar," he said, thumbing the tear away. "Whatever it is, it can't be that bad."

"It is. It is that bad." Her gaze fell again.

Deuce didn't want to play twenty questions, but it seemed he had no choice. "Is it something to do with your family?"

"No. You know all my family secrets." She gazed up at him for a moment. "Thank you for accepting them the way they are."

Pilar's cheek fit so perfectly in his palm, and she snuggled against his hand for a moment, then, as though catching herself, she stiffened up.

"You're welcome. Have I done something to make you upset?"

"No! Oh no! You're wonderful. I love…being around you."

He smiled, though he was far from satisfied with her answers. His heart sped up for brief seconds as she paused in the middle of her statement. For a moment, he thought she was going to tell him that she loved him. He slowly pulled his hand away and watched her again. How would he feel if she did love him?

Pilar was special and precious. She was, he realized, incredibly important to him. He was getting used to having her as part of his life. It delighted him to see her smile and made him unhappy to see her tears. Life without her would go gray again. He needed her. In fact, Deuce admitted to himself, he loved her.

But should he tell her? Especially when she was so upset? Would it muddy the waters and make her more reticent and frightened? He didn't want to scare her away with the implication of commitments she might not be ready for. He wondered if he should take her in his arms and comfort her, or give her space to find the words to tell him what was on her mind. Indecision made him irritable, and he growled when his cellphone pealed.

There was little choice but to answer it. He was on-call until Monday. "One minute, Pilar. I'll be right back."

She nodded, tears slowly dripping onto her chest, as he got up to walk away. He slid his fingers through her silky hair as he walked by, hoping to reassure her that she was foremost in his thoughts, even as he moved away.

"Deuce Journey," he said into his phone. It was Emmanuel Teague, the pediatrician who was in charge of the preemie unit at Children's Hospital.

"The Johnson baby is going downhill," the man said. "We think it's possible that the artificial valve is malfunctioning."

Cursing silently, Deuce responded with cool professionalism, asking a series of questions. He left orders about treatment while he was in transit, finally closing the conversation with, "On my way. I'll be there in a few minutes."

Deuce pressed the disconnect button and picked up the clothes he'd put aside earlier.  He spoke as he walked toward the dining room. "I have to go, Pilar. That baby I told you about is having problems. I might need to open him up again." But she wasn't there. Her napkin was sitting on her empty chair, but she was not in the room.

"Pilar?" he called, thinking that maybe she was in the living room. There was no answer. He walked to the hall bathroom, but the door was open and the light out. He went back to the dining room, buttoning his shirt as he hurried along. Damn it. He didn’t have time to play hide-and-seek with her. Where had she gone?

Her clothes were missing from the corner table. She'd left. Pilar had slipped away like so much sand beneath the ebb tide.

There was no way he could go after her. He was moving as fast as he could to get out the door himself. Grabbing his car keys, he hurried off to the hospital.

As he drove, his mind was awhirl, cartwheeling between surgical procedures and potential problems with the baby, and worries over why Pilar had felt she needed to run away.

By the time he got to the hospital, however, he was detached and focused on the infant who needed his full attention. Pilar would have to wait. He only hoped she would.

 * * *

It was a work day and she had to get moving, but Pilar was soggy and thick-headed. She'd cried all night after coming home from Deuce's house. Between the self-loathing over not telling him the truth and the miserable realization that she'd ended things so badly, she wondered if she could ever be happy again.

Although she considered calling in sick, went so far as to dial up her supervisor's work number, she hung up before voicemail could answer. She could mope around all day, or she could trudge forward and deal with the mess she'd made.

It seemed like she'd be riding this revolving door forever, since she couldn't change her past. If she couldn't make it work with a man as generous and forgiving as Deuce Journey, then there was no hope for any relationship.

She dabbed heavy makeup on the circles under her eyes, fighting off tears as she tried not to dwell on how much she loved Deuce. He had become the fulcrum on which her heart balanced. It wasn't very feminist of her to think that way, but she couldn't help it. She wanted and needed what he offered. Unfortunately, she had nothing much to offer him in return. Oh sure, she could be there for him if he was troubled, be a pleasant companion and satisfy him physically. But she couldn't give him security. She had none to give. Her life was as insecure as they came, her past stalking her, waiting for exactly the right moment to bring disaster down on her and anyone she loved.

Loneliness assailed her, and she fought for self-control.
Fix your hair. Put on your shoes. Find your car keys.
Each step in the process of dragging herself to work became a major undertaking, but she did it.

Her assistant sales manager did a double-take upon seeing Pilar, inquiring politely if she was okay. Feeling even more woebegone at the idea that she—a cosmetics person—looked like crap, she made the excuse that she was coming down with a cold. It allowed her to claim to be preventing the virus from spreading when she avoided her coworkers through the day.

Deuce called her at noon and she let it go to voicemail. She wasn't ready yet. She might never be ready to face him. Cowardice was killing her with slow torture.

By the time three o'clock rolled around, she'd decided to call him back. She needed closure. She was going to tell him the truth and say good-bye. Although it was weaselly, she'd have to end things over the phone. One look at his pale blue eyes going frosty would scar her for life; she couldn't bear the thought.

His phone rang several times before he answered, and his voice was cool.

"Hello, Pilar."

"I'm sorry to call you at work. If this isn't a good time…"

"Let me close my office door," he told her.

"Okay."

When he came back on the line, he was less rigid-sounding. "What happened last night?"

"I…I couldn't face you."

"Will you tell me what the fuck is wrong? I've been at my wits' end trying to piece things together. I've gone over our day a thousand times and I just don't get it."

Her gut roiled. Nerves tied her up in knots. She couldn't speak.

"Pilar?"

She had to breathe. "I'm-I'm sorry." The call-waiting signal beeped on her phone, but she ignored it. This had to be done and done now. "I need to tell you something, but you're not going to like it. You're not going to like
me
after I tell you."

He sighed. "So long as you spit it out, I'm sure I can deal with anything you have to say."

The call-waiting noise stopped.

"You know about my parents' immigration status," she said.

"Right. Is this something to do with that? Do you need an immigration attorney? I have contacts I can tap into."

"No, no, it's not that."

"Okay."

"When I went to college, I couldn't get student loans without revealing my parents' illegal position."

"People get loans despite that all the time."

"I didn't want to lie to a bank, and I didn't want to fill out government forms with my parents' names on them."

"I see. Well, there's a certain amount of logic to that, I suppose. What does this have to do with us?"

Courage. Get to the point.
"I had to-" The call-waiting signal went off again. She tried to tell herself that it wasn't spinelessness that made her take the call rather than barreling on with her revelation at that moment. "Hold on, Deuce. I have another call coming in."

"Okay."

She read the number on the readout and answered the tone. "Mama?"

Her mother's voice was agitated and high-pitched. "Pilar! Pilar you have to come."

Pilar's mind raced through a list of possible disasters. "Is Papa alright? What's wrong?"

"Your papa is alright for now. It's Ricky. He and your father had a terrible fight and he ran out of the house."

Although it was upsetting, it was hardly the first fight the two had had in recent months. "What do you want me to do?"

"Ricky came back, but some boys followed him. They're arguing now outside on the street. I think it's the rival gang. Ricky was so upset when he left; I don't think he took precautions to keep his home a secret."

"Oh, Mama." If Ricky got into a fight outside her parents' home, her father was sure to get involved. The police might be called. People could end up in jail or worse. "I'll come. I don't know what I can do, but I'll come."

"Hurry, Pilar! Your father is watching from the window, but I can't keep him away for long."

"Okay. I'll be there. Bye, Mama."

Pilar had almost forgotten about Deuce, but she realized he was still there when her phone chimed as she disconnected the call with her mother. He was talking to someone when she came back on the line.

"Tell them to put the medicine in a half-teaspoon of jelly."

"Deuce?"

"Hold on, Pilar," he said, closer to the phone. His voice moved away again. "I'll be there in a minute, Mary. I've got to take this call." There was a pause and he came back. "Okay, Pilar. Now what was it you had to say?"

"I'm sorry, but I have to go. I can't talk. There's an emergency at my parents' house and they need me."

"Is it your father?"

"No. I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay. And, Pilar?"

"Aha?"

His drawl was thick. "I want to be there for you, sugar."

It would have been so reassuring to have his strong presence with her through this frightening situation. He was dependable and capable. But she'd have to manage on her own. Her family's troubles were nothing new to her and involving Deuce, especially now, would be exactly the wrong thing to do. This was her problem.

"Thank you, Deuce."

They said good-bye and Pilar rushed out, succinctly telling her assistant that she had a family emergency as she hurried by.

* * *

Deuce saw five patients over the next hour, but between each family, he pondered Pilar. He was puzzled and frustrated over their relationship, and worried about her family emergency. When his partner came in after afternoon rounds, Deuce took him aside and asked him to cover for him for the rest of the afternoon. Bill had no patients, only paperwork, and Deuce had never asked him for this kind of favor before. He readily agreed and Deuce made his way to his car.

Although he wasn't sure of the exact street number, his memory was good where Pilar was concerned, so he found his way to the right block of the street where her parents lived. After that, it was easy to spot her car parked in a driveway a few doors down from the corner.

There was an argument going on in the street in front of the little pink stucco house. Three teenage boys were menacing a younger boy, but the young man was holding his own. Deuce wondered if he shouldn't step in. He was no fan of bullying, but there was no pushing and shoving going on, and he urgently wanted to find Pilar.

The younger boy gave him a sharp glare as Deuce walked up the sidewalk to the white front door and knocked. But the boy turned back to the three bigger fellows leaning on the old car in the street.

A small Mexican woman with worried eyes answered the door at the first knock. "Hola?"

Deuce answered her in Spanish. "Señora Peréz, I am Deuce Journey. I met your husband at Doctor Stone's office. I'm a physician there. I know your daughter from…earlier this year, and I wondered if she might be here." He knew very well that she was, but good manners wouldn't let him make demands. Besides, this was Pilar's mother and, since he hoped to have a more lasting relationship with the difficult Señorita, he wanted to make the best impression possible.

The small woman glanced behind him toward the street, then
gave him a polite nod. She turned part-way and called her daughter.

Pilar came to the door, tension radiating from her like a palpable fog. She looked exhausted and upset, and Deuce wanted nothing so much as to take her in his arms.

"Deuce?" She opened the door wider and Deuce saw into the interior of the house. It was clean and neat, like Pilar's apartment, comfortable but a little worn. Standing a few feet away from the door, both her parents were watching the argument in the street from their front window, not making any attempt to hide their scrutiny as they held the curtain aside.