Chapter 3

It was 5:47 p.m. when Lance pulled his black Porsche into Claire Moore’s garage. Just as he walked into the house a silver Lincoln Aviator pulled up in front. When the door of the SUV opened a beautiful young Latina with a stunning body (about 5’ 6”) stepped out. Her well-rounded tight behind was highlighted by her well-tailored designer jeans. Her long black hair hung down her back to her waist. Even though she wore a black, oversized University of Colorado Bison sweatshirt he could see that her breasts were quite spectacular, maybe thirty-six to thirty-seven, certainly C cups, and tight. As he came into the house from the garage the girl was talking with Stacy and Claire. Stacy’s backpack and suitcase were on the floor by the door. The Latina cast a quizzical glance in Lance’s direction.

“He’s the guy with the Porsche,” Stacy said, looking at Lance with a noticeable smirk. “He took the room.”

Claire introduced the girl as Selena Cortez. In the short introduction, Lance learned that Selena and Stacy had been friends since the age of five ... that Claire and Selena’s mother were best friends. Selena, a freshman at the University of Colorado, was taking Stacy to Boulder to spend the weekend showing her around the campus and town of Boulder. Selena’s demeanor told Lance that she was considerably sophisticated, more than one would expect for a young college girl. Selena’s eyes moved from Claire to Stacy to him. As they returned to Stacy Lance noticed Selina giving Stacy an almost invisible arch of eyebrows accompanied by a wisp of a smile. “Welcome to Denver,” she said, her smile broadening. “I know you’ll like it here.” A twinkle in her eye gave her words a deeper meaning. It was beginning to look like Lance’s decision to stay at the Moore house was an act of divine providence. Can my life be this charming?

After the silver Navigator pulled away Lance turned to Claire and said, “I want to talk with you about the amount of the rent.”

Assuming that Lance was having second thoughts, Claire felt her stomach drop. With disappointment shadowing her face, she said, “I-I can lower the rent somewhat.”

“No, no,” Lance said, “I’m not complaining about the cost. it’s quite fair, “But,” He could see the woman’s face preparing for the worst news. Since last night, his knowledge about her financial condition had been tugging at his conscience. His understanding was that he would be paying for the room; the board would be extra. Since she was pretty much giving him the run of the house, he wanted to make sure that the arrangement was fair to her. Since his company had agreed to pay for housing while he worked in Colorado. Had he been in a Residence Inn or some similar accommodation the company would have reimbursed the total amount. “My employers agreed to give me an allowance far over what you are charging me for rent, Claire. Since you are being so generous in the amount of space you’re giving me here—the garage and all—and since you and Stacy are so much better company for me than being just by myself, I’ve decided to pay you $1500.”

Claire stepped back to maintain her balance. Her face flushed as she started to say, “I couldn’t allow you to...”

Holding up his hand he interrupted by saying, “It’s not negotiable, Claire. I would have spent more than that on corporate housing. You and Stacy are treating me like family.” Some kind of family, he thought.

“But...”

“There are no buts about it, Claire. Have you cashed my check yet?” She looked at the floor and nodded. She desperately needed the money.

“I’ll make out a new one for the balance. You’ll have to make up an invoice so I can get reimbursed. It’s easy to create one on the computer. Or if you can’t figure it out, I’ll do it on mine. That way I’ll have no problem getting my money back from my client.”

Puzzled, she cocked her head, furrowed her brow, and gazed deeply into Lance’s eyes. The honesty she saw in his caused tears to become teary. Her body sagged in relief as she said, “You’re an answer to prayer, Lance.”

Moving close, she hugged him tightly to show her appreciation for his kindness. As she quivered in his arms, she breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Oh, thank God,” nestling her head in the hollow of Lance’s shoulder giving way to unstoppable sobbing. When she finally pushed herself away, her tears having wicked into the fabric of his shirt which was now soaked, she dabbed her eyes and looked up at him like a questioning puppy. Gaining her composure she smiled and said, “Well, Lance, it’s time that I get to work on dinner.”

“Let me do it, Claire,” he offered. “I’m a rather good cook.”

It was apparent that she wasn’t accustomed to being catered to by a man. Resisting at first, she finally said, “I could use a shower.” She wiped a gathering tear from her eye. “I guess it ... it would be all right.”

The words of his ex-wife echoed in his ears, “You’re such a sucker, Lance. You would give all of our money away if I didn’t stop you.” The memory of his wife’s carping had always irritated him, particularly since he had always done well financially. In this instance, the expenses were covered anyway. And, he thought, reliving how Stacy had successfully attacked him that morning, this has already turned into a boarding house with benefits.

Claire had been gone for close to forty minutes. He was ready to put the steaks on the grill when he heard her coming down the stairs. With her brushed-out hair still darkened by its dampness she walked barefoot into the kitchen wearing a tight-fitting pair of Levis. Lance easily discerned the outline of her womanhood that artfully formed in her crotch—no panties. Her electric blue t-shirt with a Nike Swoop just above her left breast declared her lack of a bra, almond-sized nipples against the thin fabric of her t-shirt confirming it. Catching his breath and using practiced peripheral vision he tried not to stare. No matter what his landlady wore Claire’s body always made an impressive statement.

She set the table in the dining room with her best China and sterling silver. In the middle of the table, she put a crystal bowl in the shape of a large clam shell. It was filled with water in which she floated five candles that were shaped like flowers. With the music of Enya in the background the relaxing dinner became a sensuous repast. They talked about Lance’s work—surveying schools for computer installations. He told her about his divorce, giving the reason for not forming a permanent relationship as “I’m just out of town too much.” He didn’t indicate how much his ex-wife’s affair hurt him or how much he feared being hurt again.

Claire told him about her husband, Charles, and how his compulsive gambling had sunk them into unspeakable debt ... how he was now trying to recoup it all with a hazardous, high-paying job in Afghanistan. Lance asked if she was lonely for her husband. “No,” she said. “When he gets back, whether we can get our feet on the ground or not, I’m going to do what I should have done years ago ... divorce him.”

The floating candles flickered shadows on Claire’s beautiful features: peaches and cream skin, clear hazel eyes, the rise and fall of her alluring, unrestricted breasts punctuated by the soft to hard and soft again, pearl-sized nipples.

“Tell me to mind my own business, Claire,” Lance said. “But have you found anybody with whom you might replace him?”

Her cheeks tinged pink as she lowered her eyes. Softly clearing her throat, she said, “I’m not even divorced yet, Lance. How can I even consider something like that?” toying with her wedding ring that seemed to be saying that she was a faithful wife, turning it on her finger. “I need to find a little stability in my life.” She told him that she was active at church, which was helping to keep her priorities in order. “I would like to get Stacy settled into college.”

“Then what?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Then...” cocking her head she rolled her eyes, “Maybe there’s someone out there who will treat me like the woman I fancy myself to be.”

When Claire said she didn’t have anybody else on the hook Lance felt relief, then confusion. What the hell am I thinking? I don’t even know her. Why should I care?

Her gaze met his, the candlelight making the hazel color in her eyes glow like those of a jungle cat. Holding Lance’s blue eyes for longer than was comfortable for either one, she looked down. Unable to get the image of this gorgeous woman’s daughter’s young head bobbing up and down on his cock that morning in the car, he flushed and looked away. He recalled the delicious feeling of her young mouth and tongue working on him like a seasoned pro. He remembered the exhilarating, energy-sapping feeling of his sperm spurting into the young girl’s mouth which made him feel like he wanted her mother even more. These thoughts in the presence of a kind woman who was opening herself up to him made him feel like a selfish asshole. What kind of person have I become?

When he started clearing the dishes Claire told him to leave them. “Let’s go into the living room and have a cognac.”

In the living room, two small couches faced each other with a coffee table in between. Lance sat on one couch and Claire on the other. Sipping and sniffing brandy she looked sexy and vulnerable. He wanted to make love to this exciting woman who, through his eyes, her demeanor seemed to confirm his desires. Clearing his throat he chuckled and said, “This is an incredibly awkward situation, Claire.” Having a difficult time formulating a response, her clear hazel eyes were arrested by his gaze. He continued. “I never intended to rent the room from you,” watching her questioning eyes. “I just wanted to see if the woman with the sexy voice on the phone looked like you sounded.”

She blushed. “I know I probably should never have gone through with it, Lance, particularly with Stacy in the house.” Her eyes riveted his. “You’ll find out, Lance that my daughter is much older than her years.” In labored breaths that made her nostrils flare she released her tension by letting the air gush out of her mouth and then took a sip of cognac. “For all of our sakes, Lance, I hope I haven’t done the wrong thing.”

Lance shrugged, shook his head, and smiled. “Who knows what’s right or wrong, Claire?” Stacy’s warm, wet mouth on his cock in the car that morning still worked on his mind. “I’ve found that sometimes what seems to be entirely wrong turns out to be completely right.”

Resting her elbow on the arm of the sofa, she cradled her cheek on her palm. “Have you ever met someone you felt that you’ve known forever?”

“Yes,” Lance answered. “I met her yesterday morning just after I left IHOP.”

Swirling the amber brandy in the large snifter Claire smiled, cast her eyes to the floor, and blushed. Her lips curled into a shy yet anxious smirk. “When you walked in the door, I felt that about you.” Bringing the glass to her lips she buried her nose beneath the rim and drew in the strong fumes. “Maybe I’m just too vulnerable.” Taking a tiny sip she contemplated, regretfully shook her head, and went on. “When you said you would take the room, Lance, I wondered what you would think of me if you had known my past.” She put the brandy snifter on the table, sat back protectively, and wrapped her arms around herself. “I’m not the demure church lady you might think I am.”

With a chuckle, Lance said, “That sounds mysterious. I had no idea that you were religious, Claire.” He took a long assessment of the person sitting across from him. “But had I known I would have taken the room anyway.”

Leaning forward she took a fortifying gulp from the snifter, her eyes showing the effect of the powerful alcohol going down her throat. She coughed then coughed a few more times before saying, “For the last few years I have been going through a constant state of penance.” Turning her head, she gazed wistfully at the pictures on the mantle. Turning back to Lance she went on,” I was incredibly wild when I was Stacy’s age ... even before.”

“So?” Lance responded. “I was too.”

“But you’re male, Lance. Males are expected to be bad.” She shook her head. “But when girls are bad, they’re considered to be fast, and are talked about in ugly terms.”

The image and sensation of Stacy sucking his cock filled his mind morphing into an image of a young Claire seated in the front seat of a car, bent over a boy’s lap. Lance shivered as his body seemed to chill.

“I paid the price by getting pregnant, Lance. I married Stacy’s father.” She paused, trying to see if there was a hint of disapproval in Lance’s eyes. “He was honorable enough to marry me. I loved him for that.” She pursed her lips as air breezed through her nostrils. “But in the long run, he hated me for ruining his life. Worse, he hates Stacy.” Clearing her throat, she glanced away as if she were trying to hypnotize the wall.

“Stacy’s a wonderful part of my life, Lance. Her father is a nightmare.” The reserved pride in her eyes turned to regret. “But Stacy’s so much like me. She’s a terrible flirt. And worse.” Her pleading eyes turned to his. She had trouble finding a place for her hands, first on her lap then on her knees. She folded her arms across her chest. Crossing her arms over her chest she finally folded her hands in her lap again. Then, closing her eyes as if to center herself she put her hands together as if she were in prayer. It was clear to Lance how troubled and uncomfortable his hostess was.

“Lance?” she said in a quavering voice, “I couldn’t help seeing how Stacy’s eyes have been devouring you.” Tightening her lips, she shook her head. “I wish to God I didn’t know what was on her mind.” Tears welled and spilled over her lower lids. “Please don’t hurt her, Lance. She’s such a beautiful girl ... so intelligent. She has so much to offer somebody. Somebody who can understand her.” Dabbing at her eyes with a tissue she went on. “I pray to God she doesn’t have to go through what I did. Although...”

The way Claire was looking at him Lance figured she might have had an idea what had gone on in his car that morning. Through the confession of her sins, she seemed to be asking him to leave her daughter alone. Or maybe she’s asking me to protect her. Leaving his seat, he walked over to Claire and asked, “Are you still a wild girl, Claire?”

The pinkish glow in her cheeks coupled with the clarity of her eyes told him that the question excited her. At the same time, she seemed embarrassed. Putting her free hand over her face as if to hide she said, “Oh my, Lance, is it that obvious?” Covering her face with her hands she choked out, “I haven’t been with a man since I married Charles. And we haven’t had sex for years.” She was lying but she couldn’t share that kind of secret with someone she had known for only a short time. Quivering like a fearful puppy she said, “I’m so embarrassed Lance. But I’m starving.”

With this broader look at this beautiful, intelligent woman Lance thought, she’s so desirable. If it were true, that she had never strayed from her husband she would have had his deepest respect. But the circumstances in which they found themselves made denying their mutual attraction difficult, if not impossible. Sitting down next to her he put his arms over her shoulders. Having never made love to a married woman before he questioned his intentions. Pulling her close to him he encouraged her to lay her head against his shoulder, his shirt becoming saturated with her tears. Thinking of his ex-wife’s infidelity and the comment Claire had made about her husband he wondered, had I been starving Sherri too? He didn’t think he had but knew that his focus had been quite narrow—mainly on himself. He remembered when Claire was showing him the house how she had wiggled her ass as they were going up the stairs. Taking a daring stab he said, “Have you always been an exhibitionist, Claire?”

Her rueful laughter muffled her immediate answer, “As far back as I can recall I remember getting out of the bathtub and running around the house naked. It always seemed so natural to me. My mother was a wreck with me around. She always tried to make me feel ashamed of my body. Charles has always been the same way with me and especially with Stacy.” Looking up at Lance, “You saw Stacy this morning?” She was referring to when the teenager had come down to breakfast wearing only a short tee shirt and no panties.

With a chuckle, Lance said, “She has a great little bottom, Claire, just like you.”

Blushing at the compliment Claire said, “I sometimes think I birthed my twin.” Her eyes pled. “Can I trust you, Lance?” He nodded. “When I heard your voice on the phone yesterday, I couldn’t believe the feeling I had. It felt like my prayers were being answered and my guardian angel was on the other end of the line.”

He almost laughed aloud as he thought maybe you wouldn’t have had the same feeling if you knew I let your daughter suck me off this morning. Claire’s riveted him. It was almost as if she were sending a code that she would have done the same thing had she been in the car. It shocked him to think she knew. He wondered how many guys Claire might have gone down on at one time.

It was as if she understood his thoughts. “I was wild, Lance.” Her eyes brightened as if to hammer a point. “But you’ll never find a better, more loyal person than Claire Moore.” Their eyes searched each other’s until Claire laid her head in the dampened hollow of his shoulder. She sighed then said, “I’ve made a mess of my life, Lance.” With a rueful chuckle, she added, “Your shirt too.”

In silent anticipation, Lance took hold of Claire’s shoulders and held her at arm’s length as he said, “Did you have trouble sleeping last night, Claire?” Glancing down he caught the rapid pulse in the hollow of her throat and noticed how her ample nipples seemed to have plumped.

“I tossed all night.”

“Were you bothered by a strange man being in the house?”

“I was bothered that you were lying in a room just two rooms from mine. I couldn’t help wondering if you were naked.” She looked up and searched his eyes. “I’m a dreadfully hungry woman, Lance.” Dropping her eyes, she shook her head almost imperceptibly. “Do you think it was terrible of me to have said that?”

“On the contrary, Claire. It excites me.” His eyes magnetized hers. “As a matter of fact, after following you up the stairs yesterday and watching you wiggle your bottom in my face, I almost felt like attacking you when you showed me the room.” She didn’t flinch. “I’ve never rented a room in my life, Claire. It was because of the woman on the phone with a sexy voice. It was because everything about you matched that voice.” He snorted. “You’ve turned me into an impetuous teenager, Claire.”

Her shy smile curved more comfortably as she thought his eyes might mirror her thoughts. As he let go of her shoulders, she leaned toward him. He pulled her close. The sophisticated woman he had met the day before had become putty. When he touched under her chin and raised her face, he saw the hunger in her eyes she had spoken of. It was a hunger that would be satisfied only by health-restoring sexual involvement.