by Lyra Marlowe
*
Nolan was sitting at the breakfast bar, playing Mahjong on his laptop, when Lucy came in. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair a little mussed. “Hey, baby,” he said.
“Hey yourself. I thought you’d be in bed by now.”
“Couldn’t start my last night on the futon without you.”
“You’re a goof.” She kissed him on the cheek.
Her breath smelled like peppermint and cock. An irresistible impulse seized Nolan and he caught her face between his hands and kissed her deeply. It startled her for one second, and then she relaxed into it, let his tongue explore her, taste her. Peppermint and cock. John Krulak’s cock.
It was as close as he was ever going to come. With regret, he pulled away. “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely.
A very long time ago, he had kissed Lucy in earnest, in passion. He still remembered, and he knew she did. There were no regrets between them, and almost no physical boundaries. But he felt as if he’d gone over the line this time.
“Goof,” she said again. She grabbed his face this time and kissed him deeply.
The taste of the two of them—John and Lucy—was dizzying.
“You should make a move,” Lucy said seriously.
“On John?” Nolan shook his head. “I can’t. I can’t.”
“Nobody’s completely straight. You know that. He’s open to new experiences. He might be more receptive than you think.”
Nolan shut off his computer. “Even if he was—I can’t, Lucy. He’s my friend. My best friend. I can’t risk that friendship over sex. Over sex that he probably doesn’t want.”
“I don’t think John Krulak’s ever encountered sex that he didn’t want.”
“You know what I mean.”
Lucy sighed. “I wouldn’t have slept with him if I’d known you felt this much for him.”
“I wanted you to sleep with him,” Nolan protested. “I wanted…I don’t know. Knowing the two of you are together, it’s like the best possible alternative. If I can’t have him, I want you to. I want to know that you’re happy, that he’s happy. I want you together.”
“Are you really that unselfish?”
“It’s not unselfish. It’s very selfish.” He kissed her a third time, very gently. “I get to taste him. And you. It’s perfect, Lucy. It’s as perfect as things can be.”
She frowned, still unsatisfied. “What about a threesome?”
Nolan looked at her for a long moment. “You and me and John?”
“Well, yeah, unless you had someone else in mind.”
“No, but…”
“We’ve done it before,” she reminded him.
“We were drunk.”
“We can be drunk again.”
“I can’t. Not like that.”
Lucy smiled gently. “I know, I know. You need emotional content with your sex. God only knows why, but there you are. But you could have that here. You love me, you’re crazy about him. It’s kinky enough to satisfy John and me both. It works for everybody.”
“I don’t think he’d go for it.”
“We could ask.”
“No.” Nolan shook his head. “Lucy, don’t. I can’t. I’m not— I can’t. I can’t risk it.”
“Nolan.”
“I can’t. You’re going home in a few days, and he’s all I’ll have here. I can’t take the chance. I can’t.”
“It could be really good, Nolan.”
“It could be a disaster.” He took her face between his hands again and looked her squarely in the eye. “Lucy, promise me you won’t say anything to him. Promise me.”
“I promise,” she sighed. “But if I keep sleeping with him, if I find out he might be interested, just hypothetically, would you reconsider?”
“I’m telling you, he’s not into that.”
“So far he’s been into everything I’ve suggested. I don’t think you have any idea what he’s into.”
He thought about it for a long moment. “Lucy.”
“You deserve to be happy, Nolan. If John Krulak might be the one you’d be happy with, isn’t it worth finding out?”
“But he’s not, Lucy. Even if John were gay, he’s not into relationships. He’s like you, he’s just…”
“I would sell my soul to be in love, Nolan.”
He stopped dead. He was still holding her face between his hands. He could not miss the tears that welled up in her eyes. But she turned away, retreated from his touch and his gaze. “What?”
“You think we’re the way we are by choice, Nolan? You think we wouldn’t rather have the same someone to come home to every night? That we don’t want someone to love, someone to love us?”
“But…”
“It’s sex, Nolan. It’s sex and it’s good and then it’s over and we go home alone. And it sucks. Do you even know what it means to me to sleep beside you every night? Do you have any idea?”
“Then why…”
“Why don’t we just fall in love and settle down? You think it’s that easy? Especially for people like us?”
“Why don’t you stay with me then?” Nolan blurted.
She turned and stared at him. “What?”
“You can get sex anywhere. If it’s love you want, come and live with me.”
“That’s a terrible idea.”
“Why?”
“Because if I’m here, you’ll never find another lover. You’ll settle for me, for what we have, and you won’t go try to find a real lover.”
“It’s not settling if it’s real love.”
“You know what I mean.”
“You’re the best thing,” Nolan insisted, “the closest thing to real love I’ve ever had.”
“No, I’m not.” Lucy frowned. “You had a real love with Kevin. God knows I hate to admit it, but you were…happy with him. And it was everything, love and sex and everything. Not just half, like I’d be.”
He didn’t want to admit it either, but he knew she was right. He shook his head. “God, Lucy, why does this have to be so complicated?”
“You’re the smart one. You tell me.”
They stood silent for a moment. Then Lucy moved into his arms. “I love you, Nolan.”
“I love you too.” He held her tightly. “I didn’t know you weren’t happy. I thought you had everything you wanted.”
“Dumb-ass.”
“Sorry.” He kissed the top of her head. “Let’s go to bed.”
Lucy chuckled sadly. “We could if you had a real bed instead of that abomination of a futon.”
She was changing the subject. Nolan let her. There wasn’t anything else to say anyhow. “Tomorrow,” he promised. “Tomorrow we sleep in comfort.”
They settled together on the lumpy futon. He felt Lucy’s body relax almost immediately, though he wasn’t sure if she was fully asleep. She was warm, cozy. And she still smelled like John.
If I was straight, he thought sadly, Lucy and I would be perfect together. If John was gay, he and I would be perfect together.
He shook his head slightly. In the words of Hemingway, it was pretty to think so. The reality might be much different.
Nolan closed his eyes and exhaled. John and Lucy. And himself. Sex, non-sex, friendship, love. All connected, all tangled. Hopelessly tangled.
In a few days Lucy would go home, and many of the tangles would disappear. Things would go back to the way they had been. Things would be simple again.
With a little shock, Nolan realized how sad that would be then.
He pulled Lucy a little closer in his arms and tried to sleep.
Chapter Seven
They had the weekend off, and for once neither of them picked up any extra shifts. Monday morning, Nolan said, “I slept so good last night.”
Krulak peered at him wearily over his coffee. “Huh?”
“My new bed came. It’s king-sized. I’m not sleeping on that crappy little futon anymore.”
“Ah. Good.” John took a deep drink. “You’re not going to be one of those cheerful morn
ing people now, are you?”
“I’ve been a cheerful morning person for as long as you’ve known me.”
Krulak grunted and went for more coffee.
For a change, they had a quiet morning. They straightened up the squad and double-checked the stock. Then they cleaned up the ready room. Nolan even ran some vinegar through the coffee maker to clean out any residue. “If we don’t get a run soon,” he said, “we’re going to have to look at washing the floor or something.”
“Nah.” John sat heavily on the couch. “Price is Right is on.”
“Oh, well, hell, that’s important.” Nolan sat down next to him. “But it’s just not the same anymore.”
“I know. Remember to spay and neuter your pets.”
“Absolutely.”
They sat for a while in silence. Finally, during a commercial, John said, “You already know I’m sleeping with her, right?”
“Who?”
“Lucy.”
“No, you’re not.” Nolan smiled calmly. “You’re screwing her. I’m sleeping with her.”
“Well, yeah, if you want to get all technical.”
“I just like to be clear. And yes, I knew.”
“She said it was okay with you. Lucy. But I should have…you know, checked with you. First.”
Nolan shrugged. “I sent you to dinner with her on my credit card. I know you, and I know Lucy. Do you really think I didn’t know what would happen?”
“And you’re cool with it? Really?”
“Really.”
“Really really?”
Nolan raised an eyebrow. “What do you want me to do, John? Stand on the sidelines and applaud?”
“That might be interesting.”
“For you, maybe. Breeders. They always think everybody else is interested.”
John chuckled. “Yeah. Sorry.”
“You know she’s leaving this week, right?”
“I know.” John shrugged. “That’s part of the attraction.”
“I figured it was.”
“But also—she’s interesting. You know? I can actually have a conversation with her.”
“Yeah.”
“I can see why she’s your friend.”
Nolan nodded slowly.
“So do you think you could give me her phone number?”
“You don’t have her phone number?” Nolan laughed.
“It just never came up. Exactly.” John was aware that his cheeks were hot. It was a little embarrassing, actually. “I’d like to maybe take her to dinner or something. On my own credit card, even.”
“Wow. This is almost serious.” Nolan held his hand out. “Phone.”
“Huh?”
“Give me your cell phone.”
“Oh. Right.” John handed the phone over and watched while his partner programmed the number in from memory. “Thanks,” he said, taking the phone back.
“No problem. Just do me a favor, huh? If you’re going to babble like a breeder, take it outside.”
“You’re a true pal, Nolan.”
“I know. She should be at my place. They’re supposed to deliver the new couches this morning.”
“Couches, plural?”
“Yep.”
“Wow, Mr. Big Spender. First the big color TV and then a king-sized bed and now two couches?”
Nolan shrugged. “That’s what credit cards were made for, right?
“Right.” John rolled to his feet. “Think I’ll take a stroll before the Showcase Showdown.”
He went outside in front of the squad and dialed the brand-new speed dial number. Lucy answered on the first ring. “’Lo?”
“Hey. It’s John. Krulak.”
“Yeah. Caller ID.”
“Right. Sorry.”
“Is Nolan okay?”
“What? Yeah. He’s fine. We haven’t had a run all morning.”
“Good.”
“Ehh. If we get much more bored we’re going to start betting on game shows.”
“Naughty boys.”
“I know. Actually, that’s, uh…” For the first time in ages, John had to think about what to say to a beautiful woman. Usually the words were automatic. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Being naughty?”
He heard the sparkle in her voice. He could imagine the sly smile on her lips. “Sorta.”
“Tell me more.”
“The other night, here at the shed. That was great. I mean, really great. Thank you.”
“I had fun too.”
“I know. But I kinda wondered if I could, you know, return the favor.”
“Hmmm?”
“If there’s something you’ve had a dream about, a fantasy or something, that I could make happen for you.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“You’re serious.”
John was, in fact, a little hurt that she was so surprised by his suggestion. He’d always tried not to be a selfish lover. But then, they always moved so fast sexually that she hadn’t had time to find that out. “I’m serious. Tell me what and where and how.”
Lucy hesitated. “You’ll think I’m a freak.”
“I hope so.”
“You’re sure about this?”
“Lucy, don’t make me come over there and spank you. Unless that’s the fantasy.”
“Noooo,” she said slowly. “Been there, done that. Not as erotic as I expected.”
“Okay. Then what’s next on the list?”
She hesitated a second time. This was, John realized, a big deal. Lucy never hesitated over anything. “Okay,” she finally said. “But you have to promise you’ll say no if it’s not…something you want to try.”
“I promise.”
“Okay. You alone?”
“Me and the wind and the birds in the trees.”
She told him. Briefly at first, and when he didn’t hang up or refuse, at greater length. It wasn’t all that kinky, by most standards, but it wasn’t something John had ever done before. He listened carefully, asked questions. Made sure he had it absolutely right. “I’m in,” he finally agreed.
Lucy giggled. “Not yet you aren’t.”
And then, of course, the claxon went off and he had to hang up the phone and go save a life.
*
John waited by the corner of his building impatiently. He looked at his watch again. Five thirty-two. The sky was still dark, half-lit in the east, and the air was cool. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his zip-front sweatshirt. The pockets were full—props for his morning rendezvous.
If she showed.
The watch again. She was now three minutes late. She wasn’t coming. He was sure of it. But he waited anyhow.
He had barely slept. He was too wound up after work, and he’d had props to gather, plans to make. She had left all the details to him. As he sat in his dark apartment alone, planning, he had grown aroused just thinking about it. He did not, emphatically did not, approve of rape. There was in his mind no excuse for taking a woman against her will. None. But when the woman involved was not only willing, but clearly and unmistakably eager, then it wasn’t really rape at all. More precisely, it was ravishment. He was going to have this woman, who had had her own way with him twice now, entirely in his control. He was going to get himself back on top. He would ravish this woman, and he would like it. A lot.
He heard the engine and stepped back into the shadows. It was Lucy, driving the van. She parked in the last spot in the lot, farthest from the entrance doors and the lot lights. John slipped back against the building, watching while she turned off the lights, shut off the engine. She unfolded a cardboard sun shield in the front window.
His groin twitched, eager, as she stepped out of the van and walked toward the door. She wore a white t-shirt and navy shorts. He let her take three more steps, enjoying the anticipation. Then he moved.
He caught her from behind, one hand over her mouth, the other around her waist, pinning her arms. She stiffened
and then struggled.
“Stop it,” John hissed in her ear. “Do what you’re told.”
She stopped struggling.
He uncovered her mouth but kept his hand close and ready. “Say the word,” he ordered. “Say it so I know you remember it.”
Lucy shuddered. “Pharmacy.”
“Good. You say it again, and everything stops. Understand?”
“Yes.” Her voice shuddered. “Yes.”
John dragged her back to the van, opened the back door. There was a clean painter’s tarp spread over the floor. “Get in. Lie face down. Don’t try to look at me.”
Lucy did as she was told. John climbed in after her and shut the door. He straddled her. Kneeling, he let most of his weight rest on the small of her back. He was certain she could feel the length of his erection through her clothes. He brought a wide Ace bandage out of his pocket. “Close your eyes,” he ordered. “Lift your head up.”
She complied, whimpering. “Please, don’t hurt me.”
“I won’t hurt you, Miss Bellino,” John snarled. “Not as long as you do what you’re told.” He blindfolded her with the cloth bandage, wrapping it around and around her head. It was tight but stretchy, and he was sure it wouldn’t be too uncomfortable.
“You know my name?”
John pushed her head back down to the floor. “Of course I know your name.” He leaned over her, breathing in her ear. “I watch you every morning. I watch you waltz into doctor’s offices like you own the place. You never even saw me, did you? But I saw you. Oh I saw you.”
“What do you want?”
He humped against her back.
“What do you think I want?”
She shuddered. “Please, please don’t. Please…”
Her voice rose and John put his hand over her mouth. “If you scream, I’ll choke you unconscious. Understand?”
She nodded, still trembling.
“Good girl.” He rose up on his knees and rolled her face-up.
He tried to pull her shirt up, but she fought him. Grinning, John grabbed her hands, moved out of his own way, and dragged her to the other end of the van. He pinned her wrists in one hand and reached into his pocket for his handcuffs. The cuffs themselves were fabric, lined with hook-and-loop tape, easy for her to escape from if she wanted to. But the chain between them was real steel and heavy. It made a wonderful deep clanking sound. He pulled her arms up sharply, cuffed one wrist tightly, passed the chain through the latch at the base of the van door, and cuffed her other hand.