Sinful by Carolyn Faulkner

with cider. “To you, Miss Lita Johnson, on what I hope will be a very happy birthday.”
    She smiled genuinely. “It already is. Thank you for arranging all of this! It’s too much!”
    “Put yourself in my hands, honey. You don’t have to think or worry about anything this weekend, regardless of what happens between us.” He kissed the top of her head, and then said, “Nothing is too good for you, Lita.”
    At least this time she could blame her flushed cheeks on the hot water.
    “I want to say something, and I want you to know it as the absolute truth.”
    His tone was ominous, and she braced herself to hear something like goodbye from him, or worse, despite where they were and all of the nice things he’d said.
    He held her chin with his finger and looked solemnly into her eyes as he said, “When we were talking in the parking lot, I was frustrated and it all kind of came out all over you, and I’m very, very sorry for that. If all we do this weekend is kiss and cuddle, I’ll be fine. I’ll walk hunched over, but I’ll live, and I can’t think of anything worse than the idea that you gave yourself to me, not because you wanted to and you wanted me, but because you felt you owed me something. You don’t—”
    Lita leaned forward, just a bit, and kissed him. She liked being the one that started the kiss, partly it gave her a bit of control that she didn’t always feel around him, but also because of the sheer novelty of it. She’d certainly never initiated anything like that with her ex, but she wanted to kiss Brandt, and didn’t want him worrying that she was feeling guilty or obliged in any way. His initiative was just what she needed to jolt her out of a vicious cycle of self-imposed and self-generated guilt about the conflicts she felt about him.
    She’d left her parents’ oppressive religion because she’d felt stifled and repressed by it, as if, as a woman, she had no control over her life. To say nothing of the fact that she’d chosen a path – divorce – in life that got her out of a bad situation, but that her parents would never be able to reconcile with their faith.
    She’d wanted to see what the world was about, wanted to experience more than she would ever have been able to had she remained, and Brandt was definitely one of the things she wanted to experience. She’d never felt ‘turned on’ in her life until she met him. Lust was severely discouraged, even between a man and wife. Sex was purely for procreation and not recreation. The feelings he inspired in her had her wracked with guilt one minute, then wishing he was there with her to help ease them the next. Both extremes played hell with her happiness and what little inner peace she had left from her screwed up childhood and her current, eye-opening step into the real world.
    When she finally ended the kiss, he sat there for a long moment with his eyes closed.
    “Are you okay?” she asked, wondering if she’d done something wrong.
    “Oh, hell yes,” he breathed, making her smile broadly.
    They soaked for a little while longer, but Brandt was mindful that it not be too long or they’d end up sleepy. He’d resolved to try to take it as slowly as he could, so he figured dinner was in order, since they hadn’t eaten in a while.
    The restaurant at the hotel was rumored to be one of the best steak places in the state, and he had a hankering to try it out. But when he told her to get dressed, that they were going out to dinner, she seemed to hesitate uncharacteristically.
    If there was one thing he liked about how she had been raised – and there were precious few positive things – it was that she had been taught to look to a man for direction, and he was just the kind of man who liked to give a woman exactly that, if she was comfortable with it. He liked being the one in charge, who was responsible for making the decisions in the relationship. Not that he wanted her to be some mindless robot – he didn’t. He was just