Billy Straight: A Novel by Jonathan Kellerman

Billy Straight: A Novel by Jonathan Kellerman

Author:Jonathan Kellerman [Kellerman, Jonathan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780375704222
Amazon: 0345413865
Barnesnoble: 0345413865
Publisher: Random House Large Print
Published: 1998-12-16T06:00:00+00:00


While he talked to his mother, she fixed her makeup. Thankfully, the apartment was in decent shape. She’d barely lived in it since the case broke. She invited him to take off his jacket and hung it up. Standing in the kitchen, they each had a glass of red wine. He complimented her decor. At his insistence, she showed him her art. Not the works in progress, her old portfolio, color blowups of pictures she’d sold through the co-op gallery.

He was impressed; didn’t try to touch her.

They moved to the living room and went through her small CD collection, trying to find something they both owned, coming up only with Eric Clapton’s Derek and the Dominos.

Sitting two feet apart on Petra’s couch, they listened to half the album, then his hand shifted six inches closer to hers and remained there. She covered her half of the distance and their fingers touched, then entwined.

Sweaty hands, but neither of them dared wipe. She found herself gripping his knuckles too hard and reduced the pressure.

He breathed faster but didn’t move.

During “Bell Bottom Blues” he tilted his head toward her and they kissed.

Closed-mouthed, mutual garlic, for what seemed like a long time, then a wide, open exploration full of clicking teeth and swirling tongues, hands on back of neck, soft lips—he had very soft lips; she was glad the mustache was gone. When they broke, they were both robbed of air.

He was ready for more, but the hunger in his eyes shook Petra and she pulled away. They listened to the rest of the song sitting still, holding hands again. She was wet, her nipples ached, her body demanded loving, but she didn’t want it, not with him, not now. One more song and she got up to use the bathroom. When she returned he was standing, jacket on.

She sat down again, an invitation, but he remained on his feet, in front of her, reaching down to touch her hair, her cheek, her chin. She looked up, saw his bottom teeth pinching his upper lip.

She was trembling now, and had he tried again, who knew what would have happened.

He just stood there.

She got up, put her arm in his, and walked him to the door.

He said, “I’d really like to see you again.”

More confidence in his voice, but still unsure.

“I’d like that, too.”



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