Day 2, Monday

It was the first time being with East ever made me nervous. But, then again, it was the first time I'd ever truly exposed myself to him. In some ways, it was like we'd never met before. Oh, but neither of us could pretend that.

"I didn't mean to mislead you when we met. I didn't do it on purpose," I told him as I absorbed the feel of his eyes on me.

"I always knew. Even in Tuscon," he said softly as he heaved the hay bundle he had been gripping when I first appeared to interrupt his early morning chores. He tilted his head and looked down at his feet. "But then seeing you here ... when you were here with the others a few weeks ago ... it didn't seem fair that I didn't get to meet the real you. Before. In Tucson. Y'know?"

Enough said, I thought.

Got this sweet grin from him as his eyes swept up to find me. "Not that I didn't enjoy our time. In Tucson, I mean. Y'know?"

I adored East. And what had I ever given him to work with in getting to feel any kind of realistic emotional attachment to me? After all, the first time we ever met, I'd used him just to help me see if I could feel again. I didn't realize at the time that I was doing wrong, but I did later. And while I would always cherish the way he'd given himself to me that week we'd spent in Tucson, there was a part of me that would always regret he'd first met me at that time in my life. I hadn't been able to give him any true part of myself in exchange for what he'd given me of himself.

And then the next time we met, here at the group compound ... it was just a few weeks ago and I'd been coming in on Terry's arm and leaving on Jack's. East and I, we'd not exactly had any quality time together as our minds were elsewhere and, frankly, my body was otherwise occupied during those days.

A confession, if I may. I had been so nervous about coming to the group gathering this week. You know why - I had two unattached men living here to whom I owed apologies. Zack was one; he'd be easy -- just a brief 'I'm sorry I was such a bitch' would do for him. But the other was East and he was quite honestly the one I feared facing. Why, you ask? Oh, I think it's because he had been so good to me when we met and he had touched me deeply. He had been just what I'd needed. He just maybe had never known what it had meant to me.

When I had arrived, it was East I first saw waiting for me when we left the security gate at the terminal in the airport. I bless whatever good fortune or well-intentioned bit of intervention by one of the planners of this week had made sure I had that moment of sweetness that was being met by East. Okay, well, admittedly, Zack was also there. As were a few others of our group. But it was East that I saw first because he was waiting far before the others and it was East that I kept my eyes on. I couldn't even speak at first; it had overwhelmed me -- this sense of how he seemed so thrilled to see me and I sure didn't feel I deserved it but I was still both aroused and charmed to be on the receiving end of his attentions. All the way to the party bus, we'd barely taken our eyes off each other. And I didn't miss Stephen's exasperated and frequent "tsk" nor other's amused glances.

But from the moment we all got swept up with the other arrivals, East had been a huge focus of attention from nearly all the women as they arrived. I knew he would be - we'd all talked about who we most wanted to find ourselves spending time with this week and I think East was on every woman's dance card.

So I didn't get much of a shot at him from then on in that first evening. I had watched him and wondered if I had a chance in this week to make a second impression on East that would take the place of the first.

And that first evening, I tried to find him alone ... just so I could at least tell him ... just so he'd know that I hoped he might like me better this time. I caught his eye from time to time but he was enjoying the attention of so many women that night.

East and I had only two dances that night, and they were both fast ones that gave no opportunity for intimate conversation or whispered words. And then Stephen asked me to dance and I found myself realizing that this week wasn't about me. It was about them. The unattached men, who rarely got the chance to be in the spotlight. I had no idea where East had gone that night ... had looked for him later ... knew someone else had gotten to him first ... wondered who'd gotten lucky.

In the next morning ... this morning ... I'd gone looking for him. I remembered him telling me how he did most of his chores in the stable long before breakfast. I figured if he'd indeed risen with the dawn from whatever bed he had been in, that it might be my best chance to find him alone and able to hear me with an open mind.

"We never did get to slow dance last night," I told him on this morning. "You know how much I like dancing slow with you."

He looked off, his eyes scanning the field behind me. My nerves went on full riot mode and I wondered what to say or do now.

"I'm sorry," I tried again and this time his eyes latched on to me so tight that it made me take a step back. "I have wanted to tell you that for so long. I'm sorry for how I was in Tucson. And thank you."

"For what?"

"For how you treated me. For how you've never ..." Paused and turned to look out at the field. Standing with East outside the stable and noting how the sun was turning everything golden. "For dancing with me there and making a fantasy come true for me. For not taking advantage of me. For being patient."

His hands reached around me and he rested his cheek against my temple. We stood there like that for a long while. Just breathing together.

"Help me with my chores? I'm just about done but it'll go faster with you helping. Then maybe we can make up for lost time?" he asked me finally. His voice did good things to me.

So while he brought in heavy bundles of hay, I helped him spread them in the stalls. We set out scoops of feed and he told me about the different horses kept there. I know nothing about horses, mind you, but I loved watching the way he was with each of them. Firm, but always personable and never rushing. Touching their snouts and talking to them with focused attention.

When we were finished, he brought me out to the water trough outside and pumped cool water into my hands so I could rinse off the smell of our work. Well, some of the smell. And before I knew it, I was following him up the ladder into the hayloft because he said it was the best place around to treat ourselves to a cup of coffee while looking over the slope of the compound's back property in the early morning's warm light.

He made the mistake of asking me about work and I rambled nervously in my best fashion until I ran out of steam. By then, we were both standing there gripping empty coffee mugs and staring fixedly out the large loft door at the land outside.

"You remember that first dance in Tucson?" he suddenly asked me.

I smiled over at him, standing too far away from me. "Oh, yeah. It was so perfect."

Giving me that head tilt and serious stare. "Coulda been so much better. I'd have chosen a different song. Something more ... romantic. No words. Classical."

"Mmm." Nodding at him. "You would have. And it would have been so wonderful. But it could never have fit my need that night."

"Right you are. And you said you'd dreamed of dancing with me so I figured it should be your way. Y'know? Your fantasy, your call."

"God, but that's you in a nutshell, East. You were only wanting to make it good for me. So you gave me what I said I wanted and somehow just knew what I'd want in addition. It's why you affected me so much even though I was so out of touch with so much else happening around me."

Cleared his throat and moved in closer to me. Close enough to reach a hand out and graze my cheek with his fingertips. "You let me take the lead a lot that week and the only thing I ever regretted was that I knew I wasn't really reaching the part of you that needed freeing. It's what I wanted."

"I know. But I'm ready now, East. I'll invite you again and then you'll be able to judge me a bit more fairly."

Edging his body a bit closer to me. Until he could play with my hair and I could feel the heat of him when he leaned close to whisper in my ear. "I've often pictured you here with me, Ann. I've imagined the way it would feel to be the one making you smile ... will you smile just for me?"

I felt his words move through me. More than his words. It was the tone of voice ... this husky voice of a man who has a wish to seduce. "Tell me what happens when I'm here with you. Are we dancing?"

"Yeah. Can't you hear the music?" He took our mugs and set them down. Turned back to me and held his arms out in invitation to a new dance. I let him put his hand at my back to keep me braced to him while his other hand held mine to help lead me. I closed my eyes and found it so easy to follow whatever internal music he had playing in his head.

"I love the way you move," I whispered against his neck.

"If I tell you the rest of what I've imagined doing with you here, will you help me make it come true?"

Smiling into his eyes and seeing the way it affected him. "Absolutely."

"I want to be able to remember you here. In the morning. In this kind of light. With just that look on your face. I want to make love to you. Here. And then every morning when I'm alone, it won't be just the sun that brings me up here."

What is it about this man? He has a way about him that appears brash and youthful but always impresses me with his depth and passion.

And in this morning, he made love with me and for the first time with him, I gave something important of myself just for him. For a little while, I was able to leave behind me that lingering unease that I'd had since the fight with Jack when I'd left home.

We undressed each other slowly. It made me nervous to feel that he could see into me the moment I stood before him without a scrap of clothing to hide behind. I let him move us back away from the open loft door. He spread a blanket for us over a bale of hay and sat with me there. He opened me to him, body and spirit. And I felt any sense of nerves evaporate like mist in the face of his calm possession of my focus. For so long, we just touched and whispered to each other. I was guided by his desires in this morning. He was guided by mine.

By the time we kissed, we had been pressed against each other until we were sweating. I felt his hands hold my breasts and his mouth alternated between them. I couldn't watch after a while; he just has this way of closing his eyes when he does things like that and he gets this look on his face as if he is entranced by what he's giving you.

He let me push him back so he was reclining and vulnerable. And then I made him tell me exactly what he wanted me to be doing to him. Refusing to move or act until he prescribed my movements in some detail. Only then did I smile for him as I slid down his body. It took seconds to be where we both wanted me to be for I was, as ever, goal-oriented. I absorbed his scent as I licked his hard length, pausing in my movements just to relish this new chance with him. Oh, his taste ...

And later content to relinquish my senses to him. Letting him pull me back up to him so he could taste what I had. Hearing his response. Feeling his need. Never wanting to let go of him. He simply knows how to touch a woman.

My breath catching when he touched me below and with just this slight nudge brought me to my knees. Whimpering as he encouraged me to move with him. And then feeling that I might melt away at his erotic voice's instructions. Unable to keep within me the joy his touch brought me. Feeling absorbed by him when he came into me finally with this way he has of being calm even while he's deeply engrossed in moving with power. Until he finally loses himself to his own sensuality.

I loved hearing and feeling him when it happened in that morning. It made me happy. It made me come.

He felt my coming and gave me this crude encouragement that made it last so long that I felt weak with it. Even as he let me gain a second breath, he was already re-positioning me ... rolling me under him ... coming back inside as I moaned in pleasure. And only then did I really feel him go for his own release. Relentless in his pursuit and I panted out my next coming to help him better understand what had been different between us this time.

He is so beautiful when he comes. His face seems so tense and he concentrates so hard. Then it seems to catch up to him ... that it just simply feels so damned good. And he gets this look ... and you know he's wondering if there's any way possible that he can simply come forever. It's that one moment when he has no choice but to be selfish. He looks like such a man but he lets out glimpses of the boy inside him. And when he collapses into your arms, it's hard not to want to hold on to him forever.

"I love the way you feel right now," I whispered to him as I stroked his hair and then massaged his back. "Can we just stay like this a while?"

"Long as you want," he grunted to me and I felt him shift against me, taking most of his weight off me but keeping his arms around me as he slid next to me. I spooned in against him and found I was facing the loft door. I watched shadows and light play. I felt the breeze kick up and waft inside to stir the air around us.

Everything about where he was living was so different than my home. Different smells on the breeze. Different look to the countryside. Different focus in life. I asked him, had it been hard to adjust to the differences he found here from where he'd lived most of his own life?

"Why do you worry over what's different?" he asked me. I felt his breath on the back of my neck and shivered with the sensation it called up in me. "I'm still the same person that I was then. Isn't that what counts?"

Is it? Isn't it just a pipe dream that we stay the same person even in the face of a changing life and changing circumstances and new people who come into our lives to make us feel differently?

There are times when I feel brand new. There are times when I feel reborn. There are times when I feel as if the real person inside me is finally taking charge.

But most of the time? Well, mostly I just feel like the little girl who is used to bopping to her own beat. The child who took chances even when she knew she'd lose more often than she'd win.

I have come to feel in the past few weeks that I am diverging in the path that the other women seem to be taking. I am, perhaps more now than ever, unafraid to strike out on my own. I don't know that I feel bound by the notions and assumptions of the other women.

It was this time with East that made me verbalize this. To East I told of these feelings of separateness that I'd not told anyone else. I think it was just on my mind because in the planning for this week, I was reminded of a mood among other of the women and men in this group that I'd noticed even before I left this world and returned to my old one through my portal. And the horrid fight with Jack before I came up here seemed to come from nowhere and it amazed me that I'd never thought Jack and I weren't on the same page on this topic. We had been; we'd said so before I ever came back through my portal.

"I was attracted here because this world offered me the chance to not be consumed by commitment to one man. If I had wanted to be in a traditional marriage, I would have found that already," I told him.

His fingers laced in mine and his eyes were soft on me. "One man. Jack."

Shaking my head. "No. That's not how Jack and I are. I'm his Number One. Not his wife."

"Same thing."

"Not to us. We are not possessive of each other. We have what we have and it is something that gives us an anchor in this world. At least, that's how I thought we both saw it but ... now? Jack seems to have changed while I'm wondering what happened to all the promises we made to each other. But it just seems to me that to be more flies in the face of what I wanted this world to be about. I was never looking for white picket fences and marriages."

The evolution of this world. It may be catching me by surprise but I think I'm the only one. Yes, in that morning, I began to wonder if I was on a collision course with a different world. And I could feel myself already struggling with reality. The reality, though, is that it is not about this world or my old world. It is not about the women.

It is about fate, I think. A fruitless struggle, perhaps.