Quietly, Naomi let herself into the loft and set down her overnight bag.
It was after two in the morning and she knew from the absence of Jim's
truck that Blair was alone. She didn't care why Jim was gone -- maybe a
date, or perhaps a stake-out -- the important thing was that Blair was
She'd left Cascade only a week ago but her mind wouldn't allow her to stay away. There were unresolved issues -- questions to which she desperately needed answers. Answers only Blair could provide.
Naomi had made a colossal error -- nearly destroying her son and now, in spite of reassuring words from Blair -- she was still certain that he no longer loved her -- could no longer love her. And she couldn't live without it.
She had to know that her beautiful boy still cared.
Moving silently, she stepped up to the doors of his bedroom, carefully opened one and slipped inside, the moonlight coming in from his one undraped window providing her all the illumination required.
Blair lay on his back, sheet and blankets down around his waist, the ends twisted around twitching legs. One bare arm hung over the edge of the bed, the other resting on one barely revealed hip.
The soft silver moonlight bathed his face in a shimmering glow that highlighted his wayward curls, almost making them appear to be ablaze with the coolness of blue heat.
Naomi thought her son had never looked so peaceful nor so beautiful.
She tiptoed to the side of the bed, slowly removed her long slip dress, revealing only pale skin, then let the dress pool at her feet in a maze of burnt umber silk. She lifted the edge of the sheet and slipped in beside her son.
For several minutes she lay on her side, head propped up by her hand, as she gazed lovingly at the man beside her. Then -- slowly -- she reached out one tentative finger and tenderly caressed his cheek. Then featherlight, she let her hand drift down his neck, across finely muscled arms, then over his chest, a nail catching in soft chest hair.
She played with the enticing hair, the feel of it sending shivers up and down her spine. Naomi leaned forward and gave attention to one nipple. She began to play lightly, to tease, flicking, rubbing and he moaned -- but didn't awaken. Emboldened, she dropped a kiss on his slightly parted lips then moved up to nuzzle his ear...
Blair groaned and turned toward the attention, eyes still closed, mind asleep, but body reacting, his breathing coming in short pants.
Bolder still, Naomi moved her right hand down, found the elastic waistband of his Jockey shorts and slipped her hand under until she reached his hardening penis. She started to slide her hand up and down very gently, circling, tightening, and she was rewarded by a sudden thrust of hips. It was the invitation she needed.
Naomi rolled over and on top of her son and began to make urgent love to him, crooning his name, begging him to love her. She brought her lips down hard, her tongue forcing his lips apart, but she kept her eyes open because she had to see his face...
What she finally witnessed -- was a deep blue panic.
Blair's body lurched up, throwing Naomi to the side. She reached out imploringly...
"Blair, please, I need you to love me, I need to know..." she tried to grab his arm but he threw himself back, tumbling from the bed and landing hard on the floor.
Naomi was beside him in an instant, hands trying to soothe, to placate but he pushed her away, pushed her from his body as he sat up and started to scoot back, to crawl away from this nightmare, his mouth moving in a constant litany of anguish...
"god, god, no, no, god, no, god..."
The French doors were thrown open, the ceiling light flicked on and in the doorway stood Jim Ellison.
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