Butterfly of Venus

by Susan F. MacKay

  “What are you thinking?” growled Declan. “Tell me.”

  Declan’s tongue, a real one, flicked rapidly over her swollen clitoris. She heard herself telling him what was going on in her head. He was so stiff with excitement she knew he was about to explode. He said aloud as he thrust into her, “There’s a tongue in your ass. The tongue of an anonymous stranger. It could be a man. It could be a woman. Now I am fucking you. Feel the tongue in your ass. Feel me fuck you. Touch your clit. You’re getting a good fuck now, aren’t you, Elizabeth? That’s what you want. That’s what you need. You need to be fucked in the ass by a . . .” The word “stranger” never escaped Declan’s lips. They both came in a shuddering orgasmic explosion and lay panting.

  Declan looked at her with admiration. “That’s some dirty mind you’ve got there, Elizabeth. A wall of tongues. Never heard that one before.”

  As always after she had released this hidden part of herself to him, Elizabeth felt slightly ashamed. She also felt freer than ever, free to ask a question that was bothering her. “What were Natasha’s fantasies?”

  Declan gave her a long, searching look. “Fantasies are private, Elizabeth. I’d never tell you hers, just as I’d never tell her yours.”

  Elizabeth knew she should not have asked. It was, however, the right answer.

  Declan playfully nibbled her lip. He grinned and said, “One thing I will tell you.”

  Oh God, what was he going to say now?

  “Your fantasies are infinitely hotter. In fact, I think you’ve got the dirtiest mind I’ve ever met. And I love it.”

  Within fifteen minutes Declan wanted her again. But Elizabeth understood that anticipation is the perfume of passion. Waiting a few hours would be good for them both.

  “I have to go.”

  Declan groaned. “No, no, no. I need you. I want you. I have to have you now.”

  Elizabeth was sorely tempted, but later, at her place, they would have all the time in the world. “Plan on staying over after your gig tonight. You said the Horseshoe. What time?”

  Declan gave her a sexy grin. “Ten p.m. Are there any more fantasies you’re willing to share?”

  Elizabeth thought of the porno fantasy where she had performed for him. What would he think of that? She smiled teasingly. “You’ll just have to wait and see. Oh, and Declan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Keep the guitar. It’s yours.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Franco was suing ATM for slander and defamation. The fuss in the media had died down. His fourth wife was divorcing him, hardly a surprise.

  Elizabeth called her lawyer, Gretchen Sweetwater. “What do we do about Franco?”

  “Unless you have proof he’s gay, I suggest you make him an offer to shut up about it.”

  “I never authorized the press release.”

  “Doesn’t matter. It came from your company. The onus is on you.”

  Elizabeth sighed. “All right. What do you suggest?”

  “Let me see if we can work out a deal. I’ll get back to you.”

  Elizabeth’s next call was to Jayce Corning. When she explained about Natasha’s sabotage, he was more than willing to give Declan a second chance.

  “The Horseshoe, then. Tonight at ten.”

  * * *

  The Horseshoe was a perfect venue for Jayce and Elizabeth to sit unnoticed. The only light emanated from the stage. A sticky darkness cast the rest of the room in shadow, making it impossible to see faces. Had there been more light, Elizabeth might have seen Natasha, dressed in dark clothing, glowering in a corner. Natasha had a perfect view of Elizabeth and Jayce. She fingered the hunting knife hidden in the front pouch of her hoodie. Tonight, revenge would be swift and final.

  Declan warmed up the crowd with a solo, accompanying himself on Jack Harding’s guitar. His voice was clear and strong, with a perfect command of high notes. The song was called “Perfect Lover.”

  Perfect lover,

  Perfect storm.

  Come inside,

  I’ll keep you warm.

  Elizabeth had never heard the tune before. Was it about her? Was she his perfect lover? People stopped talking. They crowded towards the stage, listening to Declan sing the haunting ballad about love gone wrong. “Oh no,” thought Elizabeth. There was no happy ending. Would there ever be a happy ending for her and Declan, or were they doomed?

  After the band joined him onstage, Declan upped the tempo, running through his repertoire of original pop and country tunes. The dance floor was packed. When the set finished, people hooted and hollered for more.

  Jayce was impressed. “Wow. Your boy sure know how to rassle a tune. He’s what I call a money-maker.”

  Elizabeth nodded happily. Jayce didn’t often dispense praise.

  “So you’ll produce his CD?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Oh yeah. That boy is something else.” Jayce looked at his watch. “Pass the word. Tell him to call my cell. I gotta fly. Told the missus I’d be home by midnight. She don’t like to be kept waiting.”

  “Sure thing, Jayce. Thanks for coming.”

  Elizabeth watched the big man push his way through the crowd and disappear. She was thrilled. She couldn’t wait to tell Declan what a great impression he’d made, although maybe she’d save the exciting news for when they were in bed.

  Elizabeth approached the stage, where Declan was packing up. He leaped nimbly down to the floor. His shirt was drenched from his performance. Elizabeth could see the tantalizing muscles beneath it. First, they would shower together, then he would be all hers.

  Declan kissed her. “You look gorgeous, as usual.”

  “Thanks.”

  “What did you think of the show?”

  “Fabulous. You added some new tunes.”

  Declan smiled cheekily. “Nothing like being on a tour bus with a bunch of crazies for inspiration.”

  Elizabeth couldn’t resist teasing. “They’re going on the road again. I can hook you up.”

  “Oh, no, you don’t. I’d rather quit the business.”

  “That would be a terrible shame.” Elizabeth couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Particularly since Jayce Corning wants to produce a CD with you.”

  Declan’s eyes widened in amazement. “He does? He was here? He heard me?”

  “He does. He was. He did.”

  Declan whooped with joy. He picked Elizabeth up and twirled her around and around till she was dizzy. Laughing at his excitement, she finally made him stop and put her down.

  Natasha watched the happy scene with growing fury. She ran her thumb along the razor edge of the knife until she felt the stickiness of her own blood. It wasn’t the last blood that would be spilled tonight. That was certain.

  Elizabeth sat at the side of the stage, hugging herself with glee, while Declan packed up. They would go back to her place. Now they truly had something to celebrate.

  Declan threw the last couple of cords into his guitar case and put his arm around her shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s get outta here.”

  “Speaking of business,” said Elizabeth. “I believe we have some that’s unfinished.”

  “We can’t have that,” replied Declan. His eyes lingered on hers. A sexy little smile played around his mouth. He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Will we be going to the marketplace again?”

  “Actually, I’ve got another place in mind.”

  “Will you be doing bad things?”

  “Oh yes. Very bad.”

  “I am going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.”

  Elizabeth felt a melting, tingling sensation in her lower body. She was on fire with desire. She couldn’t wait to be alone with him. They had to leave fast and get to her place before she collapsed with excitement. She’d purchased some new toys: velvet-lined handcuffs and a vibrator with ten differ
ent settings. Declan could use them on her while she told him her porno fantasy. Would he be shocked at the idea of her with two women? She’d never been with a woman, and never wanted to be, but as a fantasy, it was highly erotic.

  As Declan led her towards the exit, Elizabeth could feel the jealous stares of women wondering if she was his girlfriend.

  Natasha wasn’t wondering. Natasha knew. The idea filled her with murderous hatred. If she couldn’t have Declan Thomas, she would make sure nobody else could either.

  The air outside the Horseshoe was smoky from all the kids standing around puffing away. So much for the effectiveness of medical porn photos plastered over cigarette packages, thought Elizabeth. She’d arrived by cab. They would take another back to her house, then Declan would be hers until morning. What a stellar night this was turning out to be. Elizabeth stood beside Declan’s guitar case while he went to the curb to flag a cab. A cluster of girl smokers whispered, watching him. He looked so handsome in the black jacket they’d bought in Paris. The exquisitely tailored garment added an extra dimension to Declan’s muscular shoulders and long, slim legs. His face, caught in profile under the streetlight, could have been used to sell any number of men’s products. His jaw was finely curved, with not an ounce of extra fat. A slight indent under high cheekbones, and the faintest hint of a beard, gave his face a lonesome quality. Elizabeth got lost in the thought of kissing him, letting her tongue explore and appreciate his loveliness. Oh, what they would do to each other in less than an hour. She had set candles around her bedroom. The cuffs and vibrator were on her bed. Declan would know exactly what to do with them and what to say to her, particularly when she told him her latest fantasy.

  Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, Elizabeth caught a faint blur, a whirl of demonic femininity. She heard one snarling word: “Decky.” No, this could not be happening. Elizabeth’s vision snapped into slow motion as she watched Natasha charging towards Declan, a glint of silver in her hand. Elizabeth screamed, “Declan! Watch out!” Declan turned to see what the commotion was about. Natasha’s knife was raised in the air. She aimed for Declan’s face, his beautiful, handsome face. Elizabeth sprinted across the sidewalk. In one mighty leap, she threw herself in front of Declan, knocking him off the curb into the path of an oncoming car. The car squealed to a halt. A razor slice of cold steel plunged deep into the soft flesh of Elizabeth’s neck. The shock was immediate and paralyzing. Elizabeth collapsed onto the sidewalk, her blood forming an ominous pool.

  Natasha hissed, “I wanted him, but I’m glad you got what’s coming to you.” She raised her arm to stab Elizabeth again, but her weapon never found its mark. Declan kicked the knife from Natasha’s hand, sending it clattering and spinning across the sidewalk, then grabbed Natasha’s arm, twisting it behind her back. Several onlookers, initially stunned into silence, started screaming.

  “Call the cops, call an ambulance,” Declan shouted to them. Every single person started punching numbers on cellphones. A bouncer from the club rushed to help. “Here. Restrain her,” yelled Declan, shoving Natasha into the bouncer’s arms. Declan dropped to his knees to examine Elizabeth. He pointed to a young woman, silenced by the horror of the gruesome scene she was witnessing. “You. Give me your scarf.” The girl stared blankly. Declan repeated with authority, “I said, give me your scarf.” Sobbing, the young woman tottered towards him, holding out her scarf. Declan grabbed it, then peeled off his jacket and laid it over Elizabeth. He rolled the scarf into a ball and applied it firmly against Elizabeth’s wound. She was in deep shock, floating in and out of consciousness.

  Declan’s desperation and panic were palpable. “Oh God. Please don’t die, Elizabeth. Please hang on. This is all my fault.”

  Within minutes, three police cars and an ambulance roared onto the scene. Paramedics took over, strapping an oxygen mask to Elizabeth’s lily-white face. “Blood pressure dropping,” barked a paramedic. “Sinai emergency, stat!”

  Elizabeth’s inert body was loaded onto a stretcher and hustled into the waiting ambulance. It took off, lights flashing, siren slicing the city night.

  A policeman spoke to a white and shaking Declan. “Are you all right, sir?”

  “Yes, officer. Everybody here saw the attack.”

  “We’ll be taking statements from everyone.”

  Declan turned to Natasha, now in handcuffs. With venom in his voice, he said, “You fucked up big time.”

  Natasha laughed. She seemed giddy. “Your little plan didn’t exactly work out, did it, Decky? Fuck the rich bitch and sleep your way to the top?”

  Declan didn’t reply. Natasha laughed manically as an officer escorted her to the back of a squad car.

  * * *

  Light and sound swirled around Elizabeth in a muddy way that seemed disconnected to reality. Voices and words floated in and out of her consciousness. “Artery.” “Bitch.” “Baby.” Elizabeth saw angels with golden wings.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The sweet, heady scent of flowers permeated Elizabeth’s consciousness. A blocked, choking feeling in her throat made her want to cough.

  “There, there,” soothed a woman’s voice. “You’ll be all right now. Gently does it. Breathe on your own.”

  An Asian woman smiled down at her. Who was she? Where was she? Panic seized Elizabeth. A cool hand stroked her forehead. “Relax, Elizabeth. The danger is over. You and the baby are doing fine.”

  “What danger?” wondered Elizabeth. “What baby?” She slid back into darkness and slept away many dreamless hours.

  * * *

  Sunlight poured through the window of Elizabeth’s hospital room, spilling yellow slants of light across her bedclothes. Her windowsill was jammed with bouquets of flowers and get well cards. A large, silent orderly lumbered in and adjusted Elizabeth’s bed, tilting her upwards. He arranged a tray of food in front of her and left. Elizabeth was suddenly ravenous. Her left arm was immobilized in a sling, so she used her right arm to eat. Even though her throat felt ravaged and sore, watery vegetable soup, an egg salad sandwich and bland coffee had never tasted so good. She swallowed gratefully and tried to figure out what she was doing here. Had she been in a car accident? She remembered hearing the squeal of car brakes. Declan? Oh my God. Declan had been involved. Was he dead? No. It wasn’t that type of accident, but something had happened. She remembered music, people, being outside. A flash of silver, like a fish in a river, gone before it could be fully comprehended. A glint of steel. The flashing slice of . . . what? A knife? Danger. Declan. Natasha. The whole scene formed in Elizabeth’s mind. Oh my God. Natasha had stabbed her in front of the Horseshoe. But Natasha hadn’t been after her. She’d been trying to attack Declan. Where was Declan? Was he okay? He must be okay because she saw a dozen red roses and a card from him beside her bed. She had a hazy memory of him leaning over her as she lay wounded. Elizabeth could barely take it all in. And in the midst of all the confusion and pain, someone had said something about a baby. Did they think she was pregnant? No, that was impossible. Surely it was a mistake. She’d been confused with someone else, someone younger.

  But Dr. Fernandes, a roly-poly little physician with a thin, wispy beard, was adamant about the pregnancy. No mistake. An inch higher and the knife would have severed her carotid artery. She would be dead. She was lucky. Blood loss had threatened the baby. She could easily have miscarried. Any further delay before she arrived at the emergency room would have been disastrous. Medical staff had fought like hell to save her and the baby. She was absolutely, definitely ten weeks pregnant. For the second time in a week, she was in shock.

  For the first few days, Elizabeth wasn’t allowed visitors. Staff relayed phone calls of concern from Declan, Effie, Manny, Sampson and Jayce Corning. Flowers arrived in such abundance that Elizabeth eventually directed them to other floors. She was to remain in hospital another week before being allowed home to convalesce. Effie called from New York to say she wo
uld fly up to look after her. Declan called to say he was recording with Jayce but would drop it to come and see her. She insisted he stay until the session was finished. Manny called to say he had proof Franco was gay.

  Elizabeth was intrigued. “How did that come about?”

  “Let’s just say Damon did a little more than design work on Franco’s house,” gloated Manny. “They made home movies.”

  “Oh?”

  “So Franco is caught with his pants down. Luckily, Damon held onto a tape. Franco is a gay slut.”

  Elizabeth heaved a sigh. “Well done, Manny. And thank you, Damon.”

  “So, boss, concentrate on getting better. ATM is running as smooth as chocolate mousse.”

  Elizabeth hung up. She had a lot to think about. Franco being compromised would certainly help them settle the lawsuit, but it didn’t mean she was worry-free. She was having a baby. She repeated the words over and over so the reality of it could sink in. It was some kind of miracle: the most gorgeous man in the world had made her pregnant. But how was he going to react? Declan had been extremely emphatic, to the point of being unreasonable, about not having children. He’d gone so far as to have a vasectomy. Why was he dead set against having a child? What would he say when she gave him the news? Elizabeth didn’t have a good feeling about it, not at all.

  Declan showed up the next day with her father’s guitar and a bag full of presents, including chocolate truffles, a coffee table book on Rodin and a book about Paris. He looked his usual gorgeous self, all sex and sinew, but he radiated a strange jitteriness. His cornflower blue eyes glittered beneath their long, dark lashes. They darted back and forth in a way she had never seen before. Declan gulped down a can of ginger ale. He couldn’t sit still. He kissed her several times. He straightened her bedclothes. He rearranged flowers on the windowsill, all the while talking nonstop. Natasha had been charged with attempted murder. With so many witnesses, it was an open and shut case. Elizabeth wouldn’t have to testify. Jayce was working with him to record several new songs. He’d found an apartment where he would live alone. He seemed buoyant to the point of mania. Finally, Elizabeth couldn’t take it anymore. She patted her bed for him to sit down.