by Liz Durano
“For you, I will, mija,” she says, her smile fading from her face. “No one messes with my little girl.”
I look at Dad but he doesn’t speak. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and he nods.
“Very well, then,” he says before turning away to get something from the fridge but I have a feeling Dad doesn’t want me to see his expression.
Dax, Gabe, and Claudia enter the kitchen and join in the conversation. There’s no more talk about the case. This time, it’s about Dax and what his plans are for college which haven’t changed. While Gabe is eager to start working on his general education classes at the community college, Dax hasn’t decided what he wants to do. He wants to take a “gap year,” he tells us and adds that if British kids could do so, why couldn’t he?
“Because you’re not British?” Gabe says, rolling his eyes. Behind him, Claudia has found some chicharrones that Nana made to snack on.
“Maybe it’s time you go home, man,” Dax says as Nana reminds him that Gabe and Claudia are staying for dinner and the conversation shifts to what Gabe and Claudia’s plans are for the future. The next half hour until the macaroni and cheese is ready to be taken out of the oven is spent laughing and catching up on what’s been going on the past week since Dad flew back to New York. It’s always been this way since Dax was born, two houses for one family, one of them constantly filled with so many people going in and out and the other, quiet and almost solitary. Just Dad on the screen.
As I watch my parents laugh at something Claudia says between bites of more chicharrones, I realize that once upon a time, I’d have given everything to return to New York—and I did. But not anymore. I want the former now, a home filled who people who love each other, no matter how noisy or rowdy they may be at times, a home where the only language that’s spoken is love no matter how difficult it can sometimes be.
And selfishly, I want Benny in it, too.
Chapter Eighteen
I may be adventurous—after all, I’ve sky-dived, bungee-jumped, and driven on a closed course—but driving from DC to New York City to surprise Sarah? Nope, I’m not that adventurous or crazy for that matter, not when I know nothing about Manhattan and I’d probably end up making a wrong turn somewhere and face the wrong way in rush-hour traffic.
And so I get on a shuttle bus filled mostly with Korean tourists returning from an overnight trip to check out the national monuments. It meant having to turn down joining the guys on a tour of the Smithsonian on what would be our last day in DC before we flew home but the moment someone at the hotel mentioned that there was this private company that ran a shuttle between New York and DC and they just happened to have a bus leaving in two hours, I was all for it, last-minute be damned. Besides, with the work we’d set out to do all completed, I couldn’t wait to see Sarah, if she was still in New York. After all, I’ve already seen the Smithsonian.
And so shuttle bus it is.
I find a window seat toward the back of the bus, pull down the trucker cap I’d bought just for the occasion over my eyes and do my best to pretend I’m asleep.
After a brief goodbye to everyone still in the living room after my talk with Granddad, I’d left my mother’s house that night, making the two hour drive home just after midnight. Although I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, I also felt like crap. I’d failed everyone and not even my grandfather’s talk could make me feel like I did the right thing.
After working so hard to be what everyone wanted me to be—the son who’d end up walking the path of the Diné—I’d let everyone down. I’d let my emotions get the best of me, taking over duty and everything else.
But I also couldn’t keep beating myself up over my decision. I’d made up my mind and the only thing I could do from here on was move on. And that’s what I did—got on a plane to DC with the rest of the guys and did the work I was supposed to do. Talked with one or two representatives, answer all their questions to the best of my ability and simply focus on work.
But work isn’t saving me from thoughts of Sarah. Even though I made the decision I made with Noelle for me, there’s no denying that Sarah is part of that reason, too. I want her more than anyone I’ve ever wanted before.
And I’m done telling myself I can’t have her. It worked during those two years at UNM but not anymore. Not now. If anything, this last-minute trip will tell me where I stand in her life, that is, if I manage to actually surprise her. If she’s still in New York.
Three and a half hours later, the bus stops in front of a Midtown Manhattan hotel and we all get out. Slinging my backpack over one shoulder, I sprint down five blocks to get to the offices of Chambers, Maynard & Lipman. Thank God I memorized the name when Sarah first told me or it wouldn’t be a surprise.
With my shirt sleeves rolled up to my elbows revealing my tattooed forearms and sweating from my sprint, I step inside the dedicated elevator for the legal firm. Last minute is something I never do but there’s a first time for everything even if I don’t look too hot at the moment. I need a damn shower after that sprint but I don’t care. If Sarah is still in here, then it’ll all be worth it.
I exit the elevator and find myself in an ornate lobby, leather couches and wood coffee tables, a large arrangement of flowers covering my view of the receptionist’s desk. A different world, a different tax bracket.
I walk up toward the wide circular desk where a lone woman sits facing a computer, the security guard standing next to table straightening up.
“What are you doing here?”
I look to my right to see Daniel Drexel seated at the end of one of the leather couches, a newspaper opened in front of him. He folds it closed and after glancing at his watch, gets up and heads toward me.
“Sarah told me she’d be here.” I shake Daniel’s outstretched hand, wishing I’d taken the time to stop by the hotel and take a shower.
“What are you doing in New York? This isn’t exactly close by, is it?” His grip is firm, not as firm as it was in New Mexico but his eyes narrow as he studies my face.
“No, it’s not. But I was in DC and I thought I’d surprise Sarah.”
Daniel doesn’t say anything. He only looks at me with narrowed eyes although his mouth isn’t set in a grim line. But he’s not smiling either. “You like my daughter,” he says after a few moments. “And not as a friend anymore, I gather.”
It’s not a question. It’s a fact.
“I do, yes. But I’m here because I wanted to give her some moral support.” Only that’s not quite true. I want to do more than just give Sarah moral support but there are certain things you can’t say out loud in certain company, like Sarah’s father.
“You do know why she’s here, yes? You do know what happened with her... ex-boyfriend?” Daniel asks and I nod.
“Yes I do, sir, and that’s why I’m here. I’m also not like the other guy.”
Daniel smiles faintly. “I never said you were. Anyway, I just got in myself about fifteen minutes ago. Thought I’d take her to dinner. Maybe a stroll along South Street Seaport,” he says. “Ever been there?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m not that familiar with the city.” In fact, I’m not familiar with New York at all. I’d spent most of the ride from DC memorizing the area of Chambers, Maynard & Lipman just so I’d find it on my first try. Avenues run south to north and streets east to west in Manhattan apparently. All I needed was knowing the five square blocks that separated the hotel where the bus dropped off their passengers from the legal offices so I wouldn’t look like an idiot in the big city.
“How long are you going to be in town?” Daniel asks as I follow him to the couch.
“I fly back to Santa Fe tomorrow.”
“Definitely a very short trip then,” Daniel says as I set my backpack down on the floor between my legs. “You’re lucky she had to come in for an extra day. She would have been done yesterday but according to the attorneys, there might be a civil case as well.”
“A civil case? Wha
t about a criminal case? What this guy is doing, posting her naked pictures online–”
“There is currently no state law against this… this type of thing, Benny. Revenge porn is the word I hear being bandied about,” Daniel replies, his jaw clenching. “But that doesn’t mean there are ready-made answers to deal with it. No, it will take time and she just might have to accept that until this is over, no hospital might want to hire her.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Daniel shrugs. “That’s why we’re all here, isn’t it? We’re here to put a stop to it.”
“But the cost–”
“Cost is nothing if it means Sarah will be safe,” he says. “Anyway, you should accompany Sarah and me for dinner–”
Daniel doesn’t finish what he says for the door at the far end of the lobby opens and Sarah steps out. Carrying a folder in one hand, she’s wearing a fitted black top and dark slacks, a scarf around her neck and her hair tied in a loose pony tail. She looks so beautiful I forget to breathe.
Sarah stops in her tracks, her eyes widening when she sees me. My name escapes her lips followed by what I can only call a shriek and she runs right into my arms.
I get up from the couch just in time to catch her, all formality with her father forgotten. Her arms around my neck, her body pressed against mine, she’s here with me and for a moment I forget where I am. I inhale her scent, her beauty. I take her in.
It’s been too long.
“Oh my God, Benny! What are you doing here? I thought you were in... wait, seriously, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in…” Her words tumble from her lips so fast but before I can answer, Daniel clears his throat and Sarah extricates herself from my arms. She turns to her father, her cheeks reddening. “Hi, Dad.”
“I’ve asked Benny to join us for dinner, honey,” he says. “Is that okay with you?”
“Okay?! Of course it is,” she says, pausing to look between her father and me and back to her father again. “Have you been waiting long?”
He shakes his head. “Twenty minutes, tops. How’d everything go?”
Sarah’s expression turns serious. “Better than yesterday. We were able to cover most everything and I’m pretty much done. It’s up to them now.”
“That’s good to hear,” Daniel says as Sarah wraps her arm around my waist, leaning her head on my arm. “Give me a few minutes. I need to speak with Lionel.”
As Daniel is buzzed into the back office, I turn to Sarah and kiss her forehead. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you. And you’re not bad yourself, Mister Turner.” Her smile is radiant. “So, seriously, what are you doing here?”
“Surprising you,” I reply as Sarah pokes me in the rib and I step back, grabbing her finger before she can poke me again. “Today’s our day off and we’re supposed to fly back tomorrow but instead of hanging out with the guys at the Smithsonian, I found a shuttle bus that goes directly to Midtown and here I am. Sweaty, but I’m here.”
Sarah stands on her tiptoes, offering me her lips, soft and warm against my own. “I’ll make you sweat even more later,” she breathes just as the door opens and Daniel walks out. We separate, like two kids caught doing something we shouldn’t be doing.
“You kids ready for dinner?” Daniel asks, his eyes telling me he knows what’s up.
I take Sarah’s hand, squeezing it. “Yes, Sir, we are.”
“Good,” Daniel says as he gestures toward the door. “After you two.”
He takes us to the Paris Café which Sarah tells me is one of New York’s oldest pubs. With its hand carved bar and rich history, its early patrons included Teddy Roosevelt and Buffalo Bill Cody back when it was part of the Meyer’s Hotel, one of the poshest hotels in the area.
From our table, I can see the Brooklyn Bridge behind Sarah and she’s honestly the only view that interests me as I steal glances at her while having a conversation with her father. Her smile alone is worth the cramped three-hour bus ride from DC.
After discussing the history of the pub, Sarah asks me what I was doing in DC and I tell them about the research results we presented to a few bored legislators and the desired outcome that I’m unfortunately not too optimistic about. Daniel is attentive, his brow furrowing as he listens, and I’m glad he doesn’t interrupt me like many other men before him who usually can’t stop keeping their opinions about Native Americans to themselves. Instead, he’s curious, intent in learning what he can.
“Is that where you want to live one day? Back on the reservation?” he asks, stabbing a piece of steak with his fork. “You still have family there, right?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Live on the reservation?” Sarah asks, frowning.
“I mean I still have family there,” I say. “But living there, I’m not sure. I’m too settled in the city, I think.”
“But you grew up on the reservation?” Daniel asks.
“I did, yes, after my father died when I was six and my mother returned to live with her family.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your father,” Daniel says. “That must have been difficult as a child.”
“It was then,” I reply, taking a sip of water. But I survived, I add silently as Sarah asks me if I’ve been to New York before. It’s a change of topic that I welcome and for the rest of the dinner, that’s what we talk about, New York and its history.
After dinner, Sarah suggests I show her the night life around the city while Daniel tells us that he’s meeting Lionel at the Metropolitan Club for drinks. When he offers to have his driver take us around, Sarah declines, saying that she’s doing the tour like a proper former New Yorker, on foot or via subway or yellow cab.
Outside, after we watch her father’s town car drive away, I turn to Sarah, not quite sure what to make of her plans for the rest of the evening. “Are you really showing me the nightlife?”
She laughs, wrapping her arms around my waist as we make our way down the block. “Are you crazy? The only stop from here is your hotel room where I intend to show you what New York has to offer. Me.”
“I love it when great minds think alike,” I say, grinning as Sarah releases my waist to hail a cab.
From the moment we get in the cab, Sarah and I are inseparable. She’s by my side the entire time I check in, in the elevator and down the hallway to my room. Finally, when we’re inside my room, the door locked behind us, she’s in my arms, all of her. Mouths meet, tongues tangle, our hands explore as our bodies press together. She tastes of strawberries. Her hair smells of lavender. Her tongue is pure heaven and whatever self-control I’d promised myself a few days earlier is gone, completely gone. The first whiff of her perfume, the first taste of her lips and I’m lost. My cock strains against my jeans. How can I go on if this is the way she makes me feel? Out of control.
Sarah unbuttons my shirt, her movements hurried, desperate. I pull the elastic band of her hair and feel it tumble down her shoulders. I pull off her shirt and toss it on the floor. My mouth finds a spot between her neck and shoulder and she groans.
“Benny, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted this, dreamed it,” she breathes. “It’s been too long.”
I suck on the sensitive skin behind her ear, her body shivering. “It’s only been four days but tell me all about it. Your dream.”
Sarah’s hands continue down my torso, finding the button of my jeans, her fingers pulling down the zipper. “Every night I dream of this.” She tugs my jeans down my hips, taking my underwear with it. I groan when her hand wraps along the underside of my cock, gliding softly over the sensitive head.
“And what do you do… in your dream?”
My cock bounces against her palm as she gets down on her knees in front of me, its tip glistening with my need for her. “This,” she breathes as I lean against the wall, the feel of her warm breath along the head of my cock making me weak in the knees. “I dream of hearing you tell me what you want me to do. Claim me. Dominate me.”
I groan as she wra
ps her hand around the shaft and strokes once, her eyes never leaving my face. Sarah licks across the head and I close my eyes at the sensations that hit me all at once.
“Will you show me, Benny?” She licks across the head of my cock and I suck in my breath at the sensations that hit me all at once. “Will you show me how it feels?”
I thread my finger through her hair, pulling her head away from my cock. As Sarah looks up at me, my stomach clenches at the look of submission on her face.
Control, I tell myself as I pull her head away from my cock, not ready to give in to her just yet. I need to take control.
Chapter Nineteen
“Hands behind your back,” Benny orders and I do as he says. I want so badly to taste his need, pre-cum glistening at the engorged tip. I inhale just as he thrusts my face forward, his cock filling my mouth as I take him down into the back of my throat as far as I can.
Benny gasps, our eyes meeting, my gaze never leaving his face as he pulls my head away. He thrusts again and I do my best not to gag, my desire building higher and higher, spiraling as he controls my movements, his hands on the sides of my head, keeping me in place.
Making me submit.
Making me his.
But there’s more than just submission on my part. I’ve never been this willing to trust anyone so explicitly in my life. No one has ever made me want to let go of my inhibitions like this but Benny.
He thrusts again, groaning as I take him all the way, my gaze never leaving his face.
“Sarah...”
Benny pulls away and pulls me to my feet. He kisses my mouth hard and deep, our tongues tangling, his hands unzipping my slacks and pulling them down my hips. It’s only been four days since we were last together but it feels like four weeks. I’m hungry for everything he can give me, desperate to feel his desire to have me any way he wants.
He pulls me toward the console table right beyond the hallway and stands behind me, his arms around my waist. I see our reflection in the mirror. Benny’s eyes are dark and intense.