“You keep doing that and I may ruin this.” I motioned to the stool.
“What if I do this?” She slid two fingers inside and pumped her wrist, gliding her fingers in and out.
“I may have to reciprocate, but first…” I leaned down and placed my Adam’s university shirt over the cushion. “I know how much you love this stool.” Her grandmother had given it to her when she was just a kid.
She smiled. “I wonder what Granny Faye would say if she saw you right now.”
“Good Lord, she’s probably rolling in her grave. Let’s not think about her.” I’d never met her grandmother, but I’d seen enough photos to know she was the typical Bostonian of her generation: hard, practical, and repressed. “I want to concentrate on this.” I ran my fingers over my pussy.
“That’s what I was hoping for.” Kat continued to penetrate herself, with three fingers now, while her other hand stimulated her clit.
I massaged my clit, too.
“Inside,” she pleaded.
My index finger glided into the wetness.
“More.”
I added two more fingers.
Kat pumped harder, her hand slickening with each thrust.
She was getting closer. Her excitement spurred on my orgasm. “How do you do this to me?”
“Me? You’re taking care of yourself.” She winked at me. I could tell she was doing her best to keep her eyes open.
There was no way in hell I’d close mine until she came. I slowed my fingers and then pulled them out. Kat started to protest, until I rubbed them over my torso, creating a shiny trail. When my fingers dried, I dipped inside for more, smearing my nipple with the slippery wetness.
“I’m rubbing off on you,” she said in her most seductive tone. “You’re creating art.” Her back arched as she plunged her fingers deep inside herself. She was no longer teasing. Kat was intent on bringing herself home.
Her face was screwed up in ecstasy, pure and simple, and I couldn’t rip my eyes away from the show. I’d seen her masturbate before, but never like this. It was almost primal.
And fucking hot!
Kat’s hand moved furiously, her other fingers concentrating on her clit. Part of me wanted to help her climax, but the other part wanted to stay put. Opportunities like this were rare, and every blissful second must be savored.
Her moan quickly transformed into a scream. Kat’s body writhed. She panted. But still neither hand slowed, not until she was done. Kat climaxed for what seemed like an hour.
When her body stilled, I realized I’d stopped touching myself completely. An ache developed.
“What are you waiting for?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Come here. I need to make love to you.”
“You aren’t exhausted after the performance of a lifetime?” I grinned.
“Exhausted? I feel alive. Totally and completely alive. Now get your ass over here.” She reclined her head, beckoning.
She didn’t have to tell me again.
***
Kat ran fingers, still sticky from our earlier lovemaking, through my hair—not that I minded. “I think we’ll use the studio here for the rest of your modeling sessions.”
I draped my arm over her abdomen. “The rest? What makes you think I’ll continue after the humiliation of having my mom and aunt walk in the last time?”
“Because you can never say no to me.” She kissed my forehead.
I rolled my eyes, knowing she was one hundred percent right.
“How are you going to keep them away?”
“Not sure, yet. Your mother loves to embarrass you; that’s for sure. And your aunt has critiqued every one of my paintings, so it’ll be hard not to ask her advice.”
“Has she seen the works in your studio here?”
“Not yet. Why?”
“I was just curious. How do you decide which paintings to work on where? Home or Barb’s studio?”
“Not sure. Some are more personal right from the start.”
I laughed. “Does that mean the one of me naked isn’t personal?”
She slapped my buttocks. “You know what I mean. The ones here—they’re different. I don’t even know what comes over me when I’m painting them, and at times it scares me.”
I adjusted to envelop her in my arms. “I think I understand. The novel I’m working on now, the words just spill out of me and it’s the darkest shit I’ve ever written or thought of.”
“Someone once told me you can’t have beauty without darkness. Or something like that.”
I racked my brain. “Stars can’t shine without darkness.”
“Yes, that’s it. Leave it to you to know the exact quote. Such a nerd.” She snuggled closer.
I gave her a quick peck. She responded with gusto, pulling me down on top of her.
“How do you always have so much energy?” I asked, bewildered.
“Can’t help myself around you. I could ask the same about you.”
I propped myself up on both arms, hovering above her. “Are you kidding? Have you seen your body? A ninety-year-old monk who had never had an impure thought in his life wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off you.”
Kat squished her eyes shut. “Eww, eww, eww! Why in the world would you put that image in my head?”
“Says the woman who mentioned her grandmother earlier.” My finger roved from her neck down to between her legs. “Does that mean when I’m ninety you’ll cut me off?” She was still wet, and my finger slithered through her folds.
Kat’s eyes remained shut, but the hitch in her breath urged me on.
“I need to taste you.”
She nodded fervently.
The moment my tongue flicked her clit, Kat moaned. “God I love you.”
I reached for her left hand and intertwined our fingers, enjoying the feel of our wedding bands clinking against each other.
Chapter Nine
“What evil plans do you and Sam have this evening?” Kat poured some OJ into her glass, set the carafe back on the table, and took her seat across from me.
“How’d you know?” I sliced into a blueberry pancake. We made a point to sit down together for breakfast every single morning. And now that I was off for winter break and wasn’t in my usual mad dash state, we had time for leisurely meals that didn’t consist of just cereal and fresh fruit.
“You two aren’t sly.” She crossed her legs.
I grinned. “Probably a good thing you know. I’m not good at keeping secrets. As of now, I only know she wants to talk. Pretty sure it has to do with Lucy.”
Kat knitted her brow. “And the affair.”
“What affair? As far as I know, Sam has a crush. No more.” I wolfed down a third of a pancake.
She circled a finger in the air, not appreciating my attempt to stall for time. “Here’s to hoping Sam snaps out of it.” She smiled coyly. “Just a heads-up, Lucy knows something’s going on. And…”
I nodded. “I know. But they seemed to be on better terms yesterday.” I sipped some juice. “How ’bout you? What’s on your agenda?”
“No drama on my end. Lunch with a friend and then the studio.”
I set my knife and fork down on my plate. “I do need your help.”
She quirked a sexy eyebrow, a smile in her eyes. “Shall I get on all fours?”
“What? No… I mean, unless you want to.” I waved to the floor.
She chuckled. “Sometimes you’re worse than a dude. Just the hint of sex and all logic falls out of that jock brain of yours.”
I shrugged, not insulted. “That wasn’t just a hint, by the way.”
“Go on. What mess did you get yourself into this time?” She motioned for me to let the cat out of the bag.
“Last night I lost a bet.”
Kat scrunched up her face. “The arm wrestling thing?”
“Yep.”
She sighed. “What’d you be
t? Last time we had to pay for a weekend for Sam and Lucy at the Cape.” She singled out a juicy red grape from the fruit bowl and hurled it into her mouth.
“Nothing so extravagant this time.”
She crossed her arms, and not in a playful way—in a confess your sins now way.
“I need to convince Harold to bring Amber and Simone to a dinner party.” I avoided her eyes.
Kat sighed. “A weekend away would have been easier. What makes you think Harold is the one that needs convincing? It’s the girls who never come.” She let that thought sink in, and then added, “Why do you think I’ll help you out of this scrape?”
“Plotting and you go together like baseball and beer.”
“Whatever.” She held her head proud. “It just doesn’t seem right. I don’t have high hopes for Harold’s new situation.”
“You mean the throuple?”
“I’m pretty sure Harold’s cruising for heartache, and I’d rather not be involved in playing a trick—”
“Trick? We just want to meet his significant other. The other one. That’s not so unusual for friends. Hell, we met Amber on their first date.”
“It’s more than that, and you know it. Have you noticed how he clams up every time they’re mentioned? I fear getting them all in the same room would spell disaster, and I, for one, don’t want front row seats to the impending catastrophe. He’s our friend, not a sociology experiment.”
“Gosh, when you put it that way…” Now my curiosity was beyond piqued, not that I would admit it. “It’d crush him. But maybe it’ll give us a chance to size up Simone. Offer some advice. I’m on a roll lately with relationship advice.”
Kat enfolded her arms again, angled her head, and stared at the ceiling. “Ever since Simone entered the picture, I’ve been toying with the idea of introducing him to a woman in my painting class—”
“We should set them up!”
Kat laughed boisterously. “I haven’t even told you anything about her.”
“Is she a woman?”
“Yes.”
“Married?”
“No.”
“Breathing?”
“Yes.”
“Sounds like a perfectly viable candidate.” I cut into my cold pancakes. After swallowing, I said, “Can you fish to see if she’d be interested?”
“I’ll have to take it slow. She’s really shy. Shyer than shy.” Kat perked up in her seat. “She’s the one I’m having lunch with today. I can start laying the foundation.”
“Fantastic. You’re the best when it comes to this.” I winked at her. “What’s her name?”
“Gertrude.”
My lips puckered. “How old is she?”
“Early thirties, I guess.”
“Man, school must have been rough on her. Why did her parents name her that?”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing, if you’re from a previous century.”
“I think it’s lovely. Not that I would name our…”
I reached across the table and patted her hand.
Kat glugged her OJ.
We avoided each other’s eyes. No matter how hard we tried, we couldn’t help walking into the baby trap.
***
Sam scored a booth in the back of the poorly lit and musty sports bar across the street from Boston Common, a stone’s throw from Downtown Crossing.
Making my way across the room, I bumped into a dowdy speck of a woman coming from the opposite direction. “So sorry,” I mumbled.
“Not a p-problem,” she stuttered, scampering off to the bathroom.
“Cori,” a woman said off to my side.
I squinted at an attractive brunette in black trousers and Ralph Lauren V-neck sweater. “Vanessa?”
She nodded. “It’s been too long.”
We hugged. I hadn’t seen her in over ten years. Back in school, Vanessa had been my first serious girlfriend. “I thought you lived in New York now.”
“I do. Had a client meeting today.” Vanessa placed a hand on my shoulder. “I wish I had more time to chat, but I have to catch a plane. Email me.” She rushed out the exit before I had the chance to ask for her email address.
It seemed odd that she’d flown in from New York for a client meeting during the frenzy of the holidays but wasn’t staying in Boston with her family. Oh well. I wheeled about and continued my trek to the table.
“Almost didn’t see ya here.” I slid into the dark burgundy booth and hoisted the beer Sam had ordered for me. Wiping my mouth, I said, “I needed that.”
“Tell me about it. Work was a bitch today. Most are on vacation, so there were only three of us.” Sam’s top lip glistened with a foam beer moustache. For some reason, I took much delight in not telling her. Maybe I was my mother’s daughter.
“I just bumped into Vanessa. Did you see her?”
“Nope. Gosh, I can’t remember the last time I saw her. Graduation maybe.”
I thought back but couldn’t put my finger on an exact date. After another much-needed sip of beer, I asked, “How are things with Lucy? You two seemed cozier at our place.”
“Uh, that’s why I asked you here.” She regarded a table where three men in suits looked battered from a rough day in the office.
“Trouble in paradise?” I sat ramrod straight, bracing for the bad news.
“Not really, I’m just…” Sam’s eyes wandered to the TV screen behind my head. Nebraska and BYU were battling in the Foster Farms Bowl.
“You’re just what?” I pushed.
“I want to ask her to marry me.” Sam leveled her eyes on mine.
“Really? That’s wonderful.” I pretended to sound thrilled, even though my brain hovered in the what-the-fuck zone. Leave it to lesbians to complicate the hell out of their relationships instead of talking through things.
Her eyes grew big. I turned and watched the replay of a once-in-a-lifetime catch.
“Does this have anything to do with Inez?” I asked once the commotion in the bar settled down.
Sam glanced up and then avoided my eyes as if I’d just said I wanted to fly to Venus to propagate a new race. “I think it’d help.”
“What are you talking about? Does Inez only date married women?” I joked to gage her response.
“Of course not! If I were married, I wouldn’t cheat. Simple as that.”
“I see.” I took a cautious sip of my beer to wash down a snarky yeah right. “Do you want to get married? For real? Or are you just looking for a way, any way, to stay faithful?”
“I do. I really do.” Her eyes darted to the ceiling. She was obviously struggling to hold her feelings in check.
“To get married or stay—?”
“Married.” She nodded her head to stress each syllable.
“Because of Inez?” I pushed.
“Pffft!”
The young waiter, who resembled a marine, stood at attention. “Need anything?”
Sam started to say something, but the fire in her eyes urged me to intervene before she uttered something unpleasant and totally unwarranted. “Another round and the app sampler with ranch and blue cheese, please, sir.” I didn’t need to look at the menu. Sam and I met here at least twice a month, more during baseball season.
When the wannabe marine marched into the kitchen, she said, “Sir?” She laughed. “He’s probably not even legal.”
“I was afraid he’d tell me to drop and give him fifty if I didn’t. Twenty bucks he’s about to enlist.”
“He does have that look about him.” Sam twirled the straw in a water glass she hadn’t touched. “What should I do?”
I was praying she wouldn’t ask me that. I sucked in my cheeks, buying some time. Maybe if I stopped breathing, she’d let me off the hook. But Sam could be relentless. As soon as the paramedics revived me, she’d demand an answer.
“I really don’t know what to tell you. I don’t think getting married is th
e best way to save a relationship.” I tried to soften my expression to ease the importance of the words.
Sam propped her elbows on the table and supported her chin with both palms. “How’d you get so lucky? Kat’s the perfect woman: a free spirit, intelligent, funny, sweet, successful, and she’s almost like a fifties housewife. Except for her risqué outfits.”
“Your guess is as good as mine. We sit down for breakfast together every day. She even has a June Cleaver apron.”
“Which one? Over the shoulder or waist?”
I gave Sam a don’t be an idiot look.
“Waist.” Sam joggled her head. “Right.”
“My wife never misses a chance to show off her ta-tas.”
“You really are a lucky bastard.” Sam leaned back in her seat.
“Don’t I know it.” I guzzled my beer to make room on the table for the next round. After the waiter made a hasty retreat, I said, “Don’t forget, Kat accused me of cheating once. I nearly lost her. And there was also her shopping addiction. No matter what, couples go through shit.” Even though Charlotte was never far from my thoughts, I didn’t mention her loss. Anyone who knew me understood how much I suffered. I swallowed. “Do you want to face it head-on or run the risk of being alone? You aren’t getting younger, ya know.”
She flipped me the bird. “How can I deal with the shit we’re going through when I can’t even put my finger on the issue?”
“Have you thought about couple’s therapy?”
Sam snorted.
“No, I’m serious. Maybe there’s a deep-rooted reason causing a rift between you two.”
“Did therapy help you two?”
I nodded. “It did. We went for different reasons, obviously. I wasn’t sure I’d take to it, but it helped. Kat’s not holed up in our bedroom anymore. That was a major plus.”
Months after the incident, my aunt and I practically had to carry her to our first therapy appointment. Mom had the car outside ready to go, just in case Kat tried to bolt back into the darkness at the last second.
“It’s hard to believe it’s been a year,” I said. “Kat’s doing much better now.”
“Any word about the driver? Has the investigation—?”
I shook my head. “Doubt they’ll ever find that bastard now. I would love two minutes alone with the asshole.”
Confessions From the Dark Page 10