Stupid Cupid

by Liz Hunter, Aka Mennen, Phyllis Campbell

  “Just like that.’

  “Yep. Just like that.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  He reached for the bottle and filled his glass. “I don’t really care.”

  “Oh, come on! It can’t be that bad!”

  “What the hell do you know?” he gulped down half the champagne he’d poured. “You want to know how bad it was? When he wasn’t getting anywhere with me, the chief locked my sorry ass in the slammer overnight. The bastard left me alone with a muscle bound, horny fag, taught me a lesson I’ll never forget!”

  “Oh my God. He raped you?”

  “Multiple times.”

  She came around behind his chair and hugged him from behind, laying her face against his. “I’m so sorry. What did you do? You pressed charges, didn’t you?”

  He spat out his disgust. “Lot of good it would have done. That next morning, before he released me, the chief gave me a brief but to-the-point lecture. I had a choice to continue facing the consequences if I chose to walk on the wild side, or to put the past behind me and turn my life around before it was too late. I learned a bitter lesson, but I cleaned up my act real quick. I suppose I should be grateful to the chief for his interference.” The memory of the brutal night haunted him even today, nearly fifteen years later.

  Tara returned to her chair and they lapsed into silence for a long while, sipping the champagne, reflecting on life. Finally she spoke. “So that’s why you can’t latch onto one woman. You’re afraid you’re like your father and can’t stay faithful to one woman. Or is it because you think no woman would stay faithful to you? You’re afraid to be hurt, so you spread your attentions to multiple women in an organized and creative manner.”

  “That’s bullshit.”

  “Maybe you need the validation of multiple women to prove you’re not homosexual.”

  He’d never hit a woman in his life, but he almost lost control this time. “Just stop trying to analyze me, okay?”

  “But it makes sense. No man balancing affairs with a dozen women at once would ever have to question his masculinity.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Right. It works for you. You have the variety you crave, possibly inherited from your father, and if one of your women backs out, it’s simple for you to find a substitute.”

  “You make it sound deviant.”

  “Trust me, Harry. It is definitely deviant behavior. I’ll bet you’re always on the lookout for potential material, aren’t you? It’s convenient that you sell medical equipment. You have all those pretty young women in the hospitals to pick from.”

  He scowled at her. “So far it hasn’t disappointed me.”

  “Oh, and I bet with schools buying defibrillators for sports, you have a whole new market, not only for business but also for pleasure!”

  “You’re making fun of me now.”

  “You bet I am. All those young female teachers! They tend to want more permanency, though, than medical workers, don’t they? They’re probably a little more traditional, kind of like me.”

  “Let’s just change the subject. We started out talking about you and your lack of responsibility toward the children. You managed to turn it around so that I’m the bad guy.”

  How dare she criticize him and pretend to be traditional? He did not appreciate her cavalier attitude toward responsibilities. Four children and no wedding ring in sight? Willing to leave for weeks or months on end to publicize a book, never mind her children’s needs? Maybe the fathers—both of them—had an arrangement or custody agreements. Perhaps they did their thing and then switched while she did hers. He laughed out loud. She had the same reservations about him.

  “How can we want each other so bad when we don’t approve of each other’s lifestyle?” he wondered out loud.

  “I guess we’re a perfect match.”

  “Opposites attract?”

  “Maybe. But surely we can come up with a compromise.”

  Feeling better about life in general, he poured more bubbly. He stared into the fire and the scent of wood smoke was redolent of camping with his dad when he was still alive. The dining room shared a wood fireplace with the formal living room, as did the family room with the den or office, while the master suite upstairs had a gas fireplace.

  He looked up when he realized he’d been daydreaming. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to ignore you.” Her wide smile warmed his heart, made him feel so welcome he never wanted to leave her.

  “I enjoy watching the fire, too, though I seldom bother building one. I’m always busy doing something with the kids when I’m here, or writing—staring into a computer screen. I should find a screen saver that’s a fireplace. That would be more interesting than shooting stars, though it lets me think without distraction.”

  “What do you think about?”

  “Lately, you,” she admitted. “You’re on my mind constantly, it seems.”

  “I’m not sure how good that is. I confess I’m attracted to you. I want to take you to bed, but I refuse to promise anything permanent. You know how I operate.”

  “I don’t know, for sure … but I don’t think I could live with that. Except I want you so much, it’s driving me crazy. Should I take what I can get … for now?”

  “For now,” he protested. “That’s what scares me; that you want more than I can give.”

  She shrugged, “That’s my problem, not yours.” She shoved her chair back and grabbed her place setting. “See you in the morning.”

  “You don’t need to get mad. I’m just trying to be realistic.”

  “Don’t bother next time.”

  She turned to leave. He grabbed her arm from behind, stopping her. She tried to shrug his hand off, but by then he curled his other arm around her waist, sweeping up her midriff to her breasts, where he slowed his pace. She leaned back against him, savoring the sensations of his exploration.

  He took the place setting out of her hand and set it on the table. She reached back and stroked his thigh, searching for more intimate territory. He did the same, teasing her hardened nipples with one hand, the other just short of the juncture between her legs. From her reaction, he knew she was very aware of how close he was to her private space. “Are you going to let it happen this time?”

  “I don’t think I have a choice.”

  “I promise to stop if you freak out again. Okay?”

  She nodded.

  “We have too many clothes on,” he whispered against her ear, his warm breath on her skin giving her shivers.

  She angled her head to allow access to her neck and moaned when he took advantage. “You’re multi-talented,” she told him.

  “Could you relax a little? You feel like I left you out in the cold too long.”

  “That’s not very romantic. I’ll try to do better.”

  “You’re doing just fine.”

  She took a deep breath and visually relaxed. “How’s that?” she asked.

  “Wonderful, except if one of the kids comes downstairs, we’re toast,” he reminded her.

  “Shut the door. That way we’ll hear them before they find us.”

  “Don’t count on it. Kids are crafty. I was one once.”

  She giggled.

  “Much better,” he praised her. He left her briefly to follow her order, though, and turned the overhead light out at the same time he closed the door. When he came back, he pulled her to him, his hands on her buttocks. They both drew in a shaky breath at the intimate encounter, and he looked down at her trusting expression.

  She surprised him by unlatching his belt buckle. Never mind that her hands shook.

  “Oh, baby, go for it,” he teased and matched her initiative by unbuckling her belt. “What do you want to tackle next?”

  “Umm, the snap,” she said, her breathing ragged.

  He flicked her jeans snap. “That didn’t take long. Zipper next, okay?”

  She nodded and inched his zipper down. He could barely hold in a sigh. He waited until she finished bef
ore he started on hers, ignoring the urge to rearrange his erection inside his jeans. With luck, he’d have plenty of room within minutes.

  Following her lead he unzipped her jeans slowly, but he also managed to trail his fingers down the silky material of her panties, then past where the zipper ended. She stood up straighter, he figured to allow him extra room, but he withdrew his hand and gripped the bottom of her sweater. Slow and easy was his mantra, knowing he’d scared her off the last time he put the make on her. “All right?” Harry prided himself on his patience at all times, but right now all he wanted to do was rip their remaining garments off and rut like a bunny rabbit.

  She smiled and nodded.

  He inched the cashmere sweater up similar to his technique with the panties, letting his fingers ease up her body, this time, lingering on her breasts. God, he felt like a sixteen year old again, trying to prevent himself from losing control. He wanted her so bad, it was worse than painful. He was caught in a torture chamber.

  “My turn,” Tara announced as soon as the fabric cleared her ears.

  “You getting impatient?” he asked, hoping she’d urge him to turn up the pace.

  “Who, me? Never,” she said.

  He loved her for being so brave, all the while groaning against his need. How embarrassing for his reputation if he lost control. She was sexy as sin in her silk pink bra and open jeans.

  She lifted the hem of his sweater, but instead of pushing it up, she felt for the button on the shirt he wore underneath. Her fingers crept up his chest. Under cover, she opened all seven buttons in slow motion, copping a feel of his male nipples along the way. The feel of her hands flicking over his sensitive flesh nearly sent him over the top. The lady had an imagination; she sure turned him on. His erection threatened to burst his zipper, sending tingles throughout his body. Too bad the Tingle Test didn’t exist. He would have made an A-plus.

  She took care of peeling off his shirt in slow motion and knelt in front on him. He sucked in a breath, unsure what she was up to. One could only hope. He sighed when she untied his shoes and couldn’t suppress a laugh.

  “Get your mind out of the gutter,” she warned.

  He seldom laughed when he was putting the make on a woman. To Harry, sex was serious business. That was another reason they couldn’t be together on a permanent basis; they had different philosophies about sex. She had no respect for the serious nature of making love and doing it properly, if her behavior so far this evening was typical of her technique.

  Though he had to admit, this was fun for a change.

  She also skipped his socks, shocking him by tugging at his jeans. “Hey, I didn’t do your shoes.”

  “I just have slippers on. I can kick them off any time you want.”

  “I guess that’s okay.” He rubbed her shoulders. “Come on up here. You need a kiss.”

  “In a minute.” She tugged his jeans down over his hips and lower, taking his breath away. “Kick them off for me,” she said.

  “Gladly,” he agreed, thanking his dedication for untold hours spent in gyms across three states. But she was rushing it. He was accustomed to controlling the pace.

  She continued to ease his jeans down, and it was a choice of breaking his neck trying to fight her, or finally stepping out of them. He chose the latter, but this wasn’t going well. He was in danger of losing control as she reached for his privates. His family jewels shrunk in defense.

  “Stand up here,” he tugged on her arm. She ignored his request and made short order of his underwear, but then she seemed to freeze. Maybe she wasn’t accustomed to someone his size. He puffed up his chest, proud of her efforts, and provided advice. “Cup me with your hands. Feel my desire.”

  Oh, yes, she caught on quickly. “Kiss me there,” he urged. “Take me into your mouth.”

  She followed his instructions, cradling his sex in her hands, as if urging him to fulfill her dreams and expectations of him. Oh yeah, he sighed as she flicked her tongue over his tip. He’d gladly fulfill her every wish, if she’d just suck him. He said it out loud. “Suck me,” he pleaded.

  He watched while the tip of her tongue again touched the tip of his shaft, teasing him, tracing his length, withholding what he most wanted. “Tara, baby, take me in your mouth or I’ll die.” He wasn’t exaggerating. He would seriously die if she didn’t satisfy his need.

  “What do you need?” she finally asked.

  “I ache for you. Take me in your mouth. Love me.”

  When she followed his request he drew in a huge breath, willing himself to savor the sensation. Eyes closed, he rocked gently against her mouth, urging deeper penetration.

  Her hair camouflaged her features, and his only image of her was her hands, her lips surrounding his sex. So erotic was it that he’d see it in his dreams. Hot sensation flooded him, and unless she stopped very soon, he threatened to lose control, not to mention losing his pride. He frowned, knowing she was missing some of the best sex in her life, but he was incapable of stopping her. He throbbed with need, promising himself to fulfill her every wish once she took the edge off. He had to balance his swaying body with both hands on her shoulders. As much as he enjoyed the sensation, he wasn’t pleasuring her, and he prided himself on pleasing his partners.

  Finally when he could stand no more or he’d explode, he pulled her up to him and held her close. Big mistake. That only brought her skin to skin against his erection. “I’m gonna go if we don’t stop. I don’t want it to end that way.”

  He bent down to grab his wallet out of his back pocket, and panicked. There was nothing but money in there. “Shit! I don’t have any condoms on me! I have a gross of them out in the car, but by the time I wade through snow, we won’t have need for them anymore.”

  Her face fell.

  “Do you have—”

  She shook her head.

  “Are you on birth control?”

  Another shake of her head made him want to kick something.

  “I’m not leaving you hanging,” he said and dropped to his knees. Within seconds, he whipped her jeans and panties off. His hands on either side of her hips, he slowed his pace, kissing her belly, teasing her sensitive skin with his tongue. He felt like a heel, pushing her climax in anticipation of his own. At first she pulled back with reluctance—surely not innocence—but soon he had her swaying with pleasure, flicking his tongue inside her to coincide with each stroke. Judging by her quiet moans, she appreciated his technique. He pulled her closer, his hands on the silky skin of her bottom, tilting her toward him

  Pulling her delicious secret area closer, he inhaled the woman scent of her, musky, sexy, arousing. His nostrils flaring, he nicked her with his teeth, then kissed her ‘owie.’ She moaned, begging for release. With his fingers, his tongue, his lips, he teased her until she whimpered for mercy, pulsated against his persistence, and shuddered with release.

  Her pleasure triggered his needs. Spasms of lust gripped him, tearing him apart inside with hunger, burning him with greed. Unable to control himself, he grabbed his shirt to his crotch and spilled his seed. He lay with his head on her stomach, mouth open above her core, for endless minutes until his rapid breathing slowed. She finally urged him up to lay beside her, as if she needed reassurance after the mind-blowing sex they’re had together.

  Which brought him full circle. He could fall for Tara hard, yet she was such an enigma he’d never figure her out.

  Nine

  Still trembling with emotion long after their lovemaking, her legs so weak she knew better than to stand, Tara pulled Harry up to cuddle close to her. She’d never been aggressive with a guy, nor had she ever been out of control. “No wonder you have a harem of women seeking your favors.”

  “I keep telling you I don’t have a harem.” His words were slurred, as if he was half asleep. “I don’t contribute to their support, except if I buy groceries when I stay there, or take them out to dinner or a movie. It’s a lonely life, being on the road all week.”

  “I never
thought about that. I suppose a lot of men are tempted to seek solace when they’re away for a long stretch.”

  “Not only men.” He slid his hand up her back and swore suddenly. “What the hell! I never took your bra off? Boy, am I off my stride today.”

  “Our minds were on other matters. I never even noticed.”

  “I owe you a marathon orgy. It would be better if the kids weren’t around at the time though.”

  “I agree with you on that.” Strange that though she was blown away by his expertise and killer orgasm, her body wasn’t satisfied. Why?

  “Any chance you could pawn them off on a friend or relative tomorrow so we can enjoy Valentine’s Day?”

  “I doubt it. Not many parents are willing to take an extra four children for an overnight, especially on Valentine’s Day and on a school night.” She thought briefly of her parents, who lived close, but they were still in Florida for the winter.

  “When do parents with lots of children have a life?”

  “I think the children are their life. What’s the saying—Life begins at forty? That’s probably why.”

  “Yeah, I suppose my sisters are like that. They each have a couple kids, and most of their life revolves around the kids, school and boy scouts/girl scouts, sports, birthday parties. They’re always busy.”

  “And that’s good. Wholesome, all-American fun.”

  “But what about you? When do you have time for you?”

  “I have friends and family. I lead a normal life. Date occasionally. It goes in streaks. Sometimes life is busier than others.”

  He winced at her words but she didn’t bother defending herself. With his woman of the week lifestyle, who was he to judge? How dare he be jealous that she dated occasionally?

  “It’s getting late,” she said. “I don’t know if there will be school in the morning. I doubt it, but I need to get up early.”

  “Can I sleep with you?”

  She tilted her head, weighing the pros and cons. She would love to curl up with him and feel cherished. She could feel his hands on her already. They’d end up having sex, real sex with protection this time, and they wouldn’t be able to restrain themselves. What if the kids heard something and came to investigate? “No, the kids often wander into my room overnight. It wouldn’t set a good example.”