"Yeah, I guess you are."
"Seventeen."
"I know. I've been watching you, Georgianne."
"You have not." She pouted. You never notice me. You hardly even look at me in school or in the library."
"But I do, really," he insisted. "I saw you at the library the other day. You were in the reading room, and I sat and watched you for nearly an hour."
"You did? How come?"
"You were wearing a miniskirt and black tights with some kind of pattern in them."
"You were looking at my legs?"
"Mm-L .■
"Oh. Well, you were at that party last weekend, and you didn't ask me to dance. Why not?"
"I ... don't know... I wanted to, but ..."
"That's all right," she said sweetly. "Would you like to dance with me now?"
"Sure, yeah."
They clung to each other, moving only minimally to a slow song. She held one of his hands against her chest, in the open shirt, close to but not touching either breast. He put his face in her hair and dreamed, and it seemed as if locks and knots were dissolving throughout his body. He felt lighter, happy and free. He stroked the small of her back, occasionally daring to reach a little lower. She wore no panties, and the curve of her flesh beneath the soft cotton shirttail felt wonderful.
"I like being treated like a grownup," she whispered. "Daddy still thinks I'm his little girl."
"You're a young woman now, Georgianne."
"Mmm, you dance so nice, Jeffie."
When the song ended, they sat down to their drinks again, but this time she leaned back against the foot of the bed, her legs stretched out. She flapped the front of her shirt.
"It's so hot. . . ." Her face brightened. "Hey, would you do me a favor, Jeffie? Would you put some rubbing alcohol on me? It's so-o-o fantastic the way it cools your skin. It's refreshing and relaxing at the same time."
"Sure, if you want."
"Oh, I do." She went to the vanity table and returned with a plastic bottle, which she gave to Jeff. "Don't get up. I'll stand here and you can rub it on my legs."
She turned her back, but stood almost on top of him, her legs spread, her hands clasped behind her neck, and arched her back slightly. Jeff splashed some alcohol into his hands. He did the calves quickly, then the backs of her knees, one of his favorite parts of the female body. He took his time with her thighs, slowly enjoying every inch of them, until his hands were up under the shirttail, brushing, caressing her bottom. His fingers glided around her hips, flirting with that exquisite hollow in front before retreating to the back again.
"Oh, Jeffie, that feels so good ... don't stop, please don't stop ... this is how I wanted you to touch me ... my belly, between my legs ... oh, Jeffie, Jeffie ..."
With one hand she pulled her shirt up a little more, and he began to kiss her skin with his cheek and lips.
"Ooooh ... Jeffie ..." A few minutes later she knelt down, keeping her back to him. She slid her shirt off her shoulders and spoke in that little-girl voice. 'Would you do my neck now?"
Jeff rubbed more alcohol on her. Then he came closer, so that she could lean her head back against him and he could do her front. She had a lovely, slender throat and neck. She seemed to let her body melt on him, and she made soft moaning sounds that intensified when he reached lower. The shirt fell around her waist, and he massaged her breasts. It thrilled him to see how the combination of cooling alcohol and his warm fingers could bring her nipples to life.
When he felt he had done enough, he sat back on his heels, and then she did something he adored. She turned around on her knees to face him, and as she did so she held the collar of the shirt up to her mouth, only partially covering her breasts. She held her head down, hair falling across one side of her face, and peeked up at him. She was a perfect picture, and Jeff was transfixed.
"Georgianne ... Georgianne ...'
"Can I do you now?"
How could she manage it, he wondered dimly. How could she sound so shy, but breathless and eager too?
"Georgianne ..." -
"Please, Jeffie. I want to. Please let me."
"Georgianne . . ." He was helpless.
"Don't you want me to?"
"Yes." His voice very quiet; his eyes avoided hers.
"Here, give me the bottle of alcohol. Now stand up. You have to let me take off your shirt and pants. I want to do everything, Jeffie. Everything. You can close your eyes if you feel shy about it. It's okay, it's okay. Isn't that so nice and cool and silky? It's okay, Jeffie, it's really really okay...."
"Georgianne ..."
"I'm so glad you came today," she went on soothingly. "I thought about this so many times, I wanted to do this with you and have you do it with me. I never touched anyone else or let them touch me like this. I wanted it to be you, Jeffie, only you...."
"I was afraid ..."
"Both of us, like this."
"You'd say no."
"It's okay now, Jeffie, it's all right now. ..."
"Georgianne ..."
CHAPTER TWELVE
"By the way," Jeff said, "I won't be around at all next weekend. Unless-"
"No problem," Ted Benedictus replied without bothering to raise his eyes from the charts he was studying.
"Going away?" Callie asked.
"Yes. I'm going on a twenty-mile hike."
Now Ted looked up. He took his glasses off and gaped at Jeff.
"A twenty-mile hike?" He pronounced the words carefully, as if testing each one before going on to the next.
"That's right," Jeff said, grinning.
"1 don't believe it," Ted declared flatly.
"It's true."
Ted sat back in his chair, smiling. "Jeff, Martha and 1, and Callie too, have been telling you for years to take time off from work, to get out and do more for yourself. I think it's great that you're finally starting to take our advice, and what you do is your business. But when you come in here and tell me you're going to hike twenty miles, I simply don't believe it. Your idea of strenuous exercise is lugging the Sunday papers home from the store."
Callie did a good job of restraining her smile. She was enjoying this. A bright, professional woman, she had been with Jeff and Ted from the beginning. Neither of them had ever made a pass at her, a fact she deeply appreciated. She liked both men, and she was proud of the company she had helped them to establish.
"That's true enough," Jeff said. "But, well, I got talked into it by a very nice young woman."
"Ah." Ted nodded approvingly. "She must be pretty special, to get you out on something like that."
"I think she is," Jeff said. "We'll see how far I getuh, no pun intended."
"Where are you going?" Callie asked.
"Somewhere up in Los Padres." Jeff knew he didn't have to be specific. Besides, the national park covered parts of three counties and thousands of square miles.
"You'll come back on crutches," Ted predicted. "But it'll be good for you."
"I just wanted you to know," Jeff said, "so you wouldn't try to reach me next weekend. Nobody will be able to get in touch with me, where I'm going."
Ted shook his head, amused. "Jeff, do me a favor, do Callie, here, a favor, and most of all do yourself a favor. Get lost in the woods with that woman for a month or so. It would be the best thing that could happen to you. And we'll survive here-don't worry about that.'
One base covered, Jeff thought later as he drove toward Los Angeles. He wasn't going directly home after work that evening. He had an appointment. Diane had given him a name of sorts, Knobs, and a telephone number. Diane was the only one Jeff knew who might be able to help. She had refused to act as gobetween, but she did refer him to this other person. Some ridiculous hugger-mugger had ensued, ambiguous phone calls and instructions for him to send a certain kind of photograph of himself to a post-office box in Santa Monica. He had done as he was told, waited a week, and then called again. Everything was set, and now he was on his way to conclude the deal. It was necessary-Jeff had no doubt about that. But the whole procedure seemed juvenile, and in spite of all the money he was carrying and the risk he was taking, he felt silly rather than nervous. Is this what it seems like to everyone who gets involved with illegal goods, he wondered, something of a prank, until the cops take you in? Never mind, he told himself, it'll be over in less than an hour.