She entered the huge shower, Lucio behind her. She heard the door close just as she felt him press up against her back.

Feel the water come down on you, he said, pushing her forward, grabbing her hips as the hot water soothed over them both. She felt his hands in her sticky hair, slowly massaging the water into her scalp until the hairspray began to dissolve. Ginger closed her eyes and was enjoying the pure decadence of his touch when she smelled something faintly minty, herbal, and she knew he'd opened a shampoo bottle.

Allow me, Lucio said from behind her. His hands lathered the shampoo as he massaged and rubbed, gently making sure the suds reached everywhere. She heard him pull out a handheld nozzle, then shuddered at the pleasure of the hot water hitting directly on her scalp, his hand running down the length of her hair.

I love your hair, mi amor, he said. The color is exotic. It is the color of desire, did you know that?

Uh-uh, Ginger managed.

Lucio chuckled, opening another bottle Ginger could only assume was shower gel. It smelled fresh and light and she moaned out loud when a soft sponge touched her shoulders, back, bottom, and her thighs and calves. Lucio asked her to turn toward him so that he could soap her feet. Ginger had to giggle at all the attention he paid to her toes, feet, and ankles. It made her feel like a princess. Next, he continued the sensual massage of the shower gel into her legs, thighs, belly, arms, breasts.

Let's get you rinsed off, my love.

Only then did Lucio touch her between her legs. Ginger knew he'd find a very swollen and slick pussy.

You are very wet, mi amor, he said. He moved her long hair to the side and kissed the side of her neck.

Ginger's knees began to buckle, but Lucio caught her. Sit with me, he said, gently guiding her to a large seat built into the wall of the shower.

Lucio sat down first, then pulled her into his lap. She straddled his thighs and lowered herself, the sensitive outer lips of her pussy opening and pressing down onto the light curly hair of his legs.

Lucio's hands were all over her back and ass, massaging her flesh as the hot water continued to rain down her skin. The pleasure was intense. The physical joy she felt nearly made her cry.

Give me your mouth, Lucio said, pressing the back of her neck toward him until her mouth touched his. Ginger felt every muscle in her body release, uncoil, melt. Lucio's kisses were not just about the lips, they were an all-body contact sport. His tongue and teeth played with her, his hands gripped and caressed and slid all over her, his thighs spread apart, which opened her legs further.

How could she have lived without this? How could she have gone twenty years without knowing how this felt? He was kissing her, stroking her, when she began to cry.

Oh, oh Ginger gasped, taking her mouth away from his in surprise. Lucio's fingers had just entered her engorged vagina. His touch was so soft, so loving and careful, but the sensations built in her fast and hard. There was no way to stop the orgasm taking her over.

She clamped down on his fingers and came almost immediately, her cry muffled by Lucio's tongue, which he'd returned to her mouth. His free hand caressed and moved her bottom, lifting her up as his fingers continued to play inside her. Somewhere deep in her brain, Ginger knew he was adjusting her position so that he could impale her, even before her orgasm could subside.

With her last functioning brain cell she thought about a condom. She was about to interrupt the moment when she glanced down at him, only to find he was already sheathed. He must have done it while her back was turnedLucio was a consummate pro.

Suddenly she was lifted higher, pulled forward, and pressed down. Before she knew what was happening, Lucio had replaced his fingers with his cock, which penetrated her in one long, hot slide of pleasure.

?Que Dios me ayude! he groaned as he entered her. The outburst was followed by a torrent of Spanish she could only guess was the equivalent of her own English babbling.

Oh God, yes, Ginger cried. This is so good. Don't stop. I didn't know, Lucio! I didn't know it could be so good!

Genevieve. You are mine. His hands cupped her breasts. His dark eyes demanded she look at him.

I know I am, she whispered. I've wanted to be yours forever.

And I am yours. Do you understand? I belong to you just as you belong to me.

She laughed suddenly, the intensity of the physical pleasure and the emotional closeness almost too much to process. I know you're mine, Lucio. I've wanted you all my life.

And now you have me. He hissed, gritting his teeth. Ah, bonita, now you really are going to make me come.

She pushed down onto him, feeling him go deeper than he'd ever been beforedeeper than anyone had ever been. She braced her hands against the slate wall and rode him, squeezing and squirming as she moved up and down. Lucio let his head rest against the wall, his eyes focused on hers.

I wish I had met you sooner, he whispered.

I wish the same, she said.

I would have wanted to make a child with you. Of all the women in the world Lucio stopped speaking. He closed his eyes for a moment, then shook his head. I wish it could have been you.

That's when he grabbed her hard by the hips and thrust into her with all his strength. Ginger screamed, the rush of joy sharp and clean. Lucio groaned out to God, in both English and Spanish.

Many long minutes went by. The two of them stayed exactly where they were, their bodies fused, the hot water running down their skin.

Ginger was overcome with a deep comfort. She never wanted to leave this place, his arms, this moment. She rested her cheek on Lucio's shoulder.

Thank you, Genevieve, he whispered.

She kissed his damp skin. For what?

For this. For you. For everything.

She nuzzled his cheek, then dragged her lips to deliver a gentle kiss upon his lips. I really am yours, you know, she whispered, studying the tender look in his eyes. That night on the lawn? When I told you I belonged to you?

I remember. Lucio produced the smile of an exhaustedbut happyman.

It was the truth, Ginger said, her voice catching. I didn't even know it at the time, but it really was the truth.

Lucio nodded slowly, raising a finger to her heart and tapping lightly. But you knew it inside here, yes? he said.

She smiled at him. I suppose I did.

That is the only place we ever know anything, my love. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. Everything else is just a guess.

Ginger knocked on the blue door of the little blue house on Cayuga Street, trying not to judge the monochromatic color scheme Mrs. Needleman had chosen for the exterior paint job. Ginger liked powder blue as much as the next personjust not slapped on stucco, shutters, windowsills, trim, concrete steps, and the front door with the same heavy-handed exuberance.

She might no longer be employed to evaluate home and garden design for the San Francisco Herald, but old habits were hard to shake.

Genevieve! The small woman reached out her wrinkly arms and wrapped them around Ginger's waist. It is so lovely to see you! I was thrilled when you called! Come in, come in. Would you like some tea?

Ginger had to blink a few times to get her bearings. Most of these Cayuga Terrace houses were built right around World War II, and by the looks of the living room, Gloria Needleman hadn't bothered to redecorate since. The only striking features of the small room were the top-quality hardwood floors and a hideous sparkly gold couch that was wrapped in clear plastic. Ginger decided it looked like a giant Twinkie still in its wrapper.