Best She Ever Had (9781617733963)

by Ellis, Shelly

  “Good evening, signor and signorina,” the gondolier in the too-tight, black-and-white T-shirt said after they finished boarding. Though he tried his best to tug it down over his hairy belly, the shirt made him vaguely resemble Baby Huey. He grinned down at Cynthia and Korey. “Prepare for a romantic evening.”

  I wouldn’t be too sure about that, honey, Cynthia thought dryly.

  The boat started to glide away from the dock.

  “Oooooooooo, sooooooloooo meeeeeoooooo!” the gondolier began to bellow seconds later, making Cynthia cringe and Korey wince. “Oooooooo—”

  “Could you please not do that?” Cynthia shouted.

  The gondolier instantly fell silent.

  “It’s his job,” Korey whispered as they passed underneath another bridge. “Just let him sing the damn song.”

  “His job is to steer the boat, not to murder our eardrums!”

  Korey tiredly ran his hand over his face. “Okay, I get that you plan to be a bitch to me the whole night, but do you really need to torture this man too?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t be such a bitch if you had shown up at eight thirty like I asked!”

  “Again . . . did I or did I not tell you to go ahead without me?”

  She didn’t respond, but instead turned her back to him and glared obstinately at the buildings along the canal.

  “Fine,” he muttered, adjusting his suit jacket as he turned his back to her too. “Let’s just keep an eye out for the kids. Maybe it’s better if we don’t talk anyway.”

  The two fell into silence. The gondolier glanced down at them apprehensively.

  “Umm, perhaps you two would like another song selection,” he ventured.

  Neither of them answered. He must have taken their silence as a “yes” because he loudly cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

  “Wheeeeeeeen theeeeeee . . .”

  Cynthia sank lower in her seat, slapped her purse on her lap, and rolled her eyes.

  For the next twenty minutes, she and Korey sat in the gondola, staring in opposite directions, refusing to look at or talk to one another as they were serenaded with horrible renditions from the 1950s Hit Parade.

  Cynthia perked up when a couple approached them in an almost identical gondola. She got excited not just because the guy singing on that other boat had a much better voice. She hoped Clarissa and Jared might be on board. She stared as the gondola drew near. To her disappointment, it wasn’t the kids. Instead, a black woman, who looked to be in her late twenties, was riding in the boat. She had her head on a young black man’s shoulder and gazed up at him adoringly. The young man had an arm slung around her. He leaned down, and they shared a kiss that was both deep and passionate. In the movies, that would have been the moment when fireworks blasted overhead, when violins began to play.

  I think I’m gonna be sick, Cynthia thought flippantly. Everything—from the boat ride in the middle of a fake canal trailing around a Las Vegas hotel, to the dewy-eyed couple who would probably break up in a day or two—screamed cheese, more cheese than could ever be manufactured by Velveeta. However, twenty years ago she would have found this whole setting and moment very romantic. Twenty years ago it would have been Korey and her in the other gondola gazing into each other’s eyes.

  She took a furtive glance at Korey, who continued to ignore her.

  But I’m a grown-up now, she reminded herself. We both are, and we know better.

  Yet, at that moment, she didn’t feel any more grown-up than she had when she made the fateful decision to see Korey one last time to say good-bye before she married Bill. She didn’t feel any more self-assured either . . .

  Cynthia tiptoed in the dark through the hallway and down the staircase, feeling like a cat burglar. The house was eerily quiet. Everyone was asleep upstairs and the staff had gone home for the day hours ago. Only the groundskeeper was still around, probably getting drunk in one of the sheds out back. She hoped he was drunk enough not to notice the car at the far end of the driveway. Cynthia had warned Korey to turn off his headlights when he drew near the house so he could stay hidden in the dark.

  When Cynthia reached the second-to-last riser on the staircase, she tripped slightly on the runner and almost plunged face-first onto the marble tile below. But she grabbed the banister in just enough time to catch herself.

  “Damn! That was close,” she whispered.

  If she had fallen, who knows how much noise she could have made. She could have woken up one of her sisters—or, worse, her mother! She took a deep breath and tiptoed to the French doors. She gave one last furtive glance over her shoulder before unlocking the front door and stepping into the night.

  She looked around her, squinting as she peered at the end the driveway, searching for Korey’s Chevy Cavalier. The kelly-green lawn now had a dewy scent thanks to the rain that had stopped more than an hour ago. Fireflies twinkled faintly. The incessant melody of crickets played in the distance, but everything else was silent. Like her family, it seemed that the rest of the world was fast asleep—well, everyone except her and Korey.

  Cynthia soon spotted his car. She ran toward the Cavalier, which waited fifteen feet away, feeling her heart race and her palms sweat. She was almost beside herself with anticipation. She pulled open the passenger-side door and climbed inside.

  “Hey,” she said as she shut the door behind her.

  He didn’t return the greeting. Instead, he silently shifted the car into drive and did a slow U-turn, steering out of the driveway and onto the gravel road leading off the Gibbons property, using the light of the full moon to guide his way. When they were almost a quarter of a mile from her house, he turned on his headlights and picked up speed.

  They drove in silence for several minutes. Meanwhile, Cynthia kept glancing nervously at Korey. She couldn’t see him well in the dim moonlight, but from what she could see, he looked angry.

  “Thanks for doing this. I know . . . I know it was probably a surprise.”

  “Yeah, you could say that,” he mumbled, still staring at the windshield.

  “How have you been?”

  “How have I been?” He shook his head with disbelief. “Cindy, why the hell am I here? We haven’t spoken in weeks, then suddenly you call me out of the blue and—”

  “Because I had to see you,” she answered honestly.

  He turned to her, searching her face. “Why?”

  Because she knew now that she couldn’t move on with her life with Bill until she closed this final chapter with Korey, and the quick phone call she made last month hadn’t cut it. But she couldn’t tell Korey that. If she did, he’d probably do another U-turn, take her back to her home, bid her a “Fuck you, adieu,” and pull off. So instead she turned the question on him.

  “You didn’t want to see me?”

  He slowly exhaled, looking more tired than angry now. “Of course, I wanted to see you. But I figured that was out of the question based on the last conversation we had. Remember?”

  Their last conversation hadn’t been pretty. She had kept it short and sweet that night after the fight with her mother, calling Korey and telling him that she was breaking up with him, that they would never work out. When he asked her why, she had stayed vague. She didn’t want to tell him she was breaking up with him not only because her mother had found out about them, but also because things with Bill were starting to get serious and her mother warned her she was putting her chances with Bill at risk by continuing to see Korey.

  Cynthia had been dating Bill off and on for months, based on her mother’s urgings. She did it to keep her mother off her back. Needless to say, Korey hadn’t been too happy with the arrangement despite Cynthia’s explanation. He said it was cheating.

  “What if I up and decided to date someone else too, huh? Just to ‘keep up appearances,’ ” he had said, quoting her words back to her.

  The idea of him going on a date with another girl made her jealous and furious, and he knew it. They had had many arguments about that
.

  And we’re about to have another one because I have to tell him I’m engaged to Bill, she thought sadly.

  “I remember what I said,” she finally answered, “which is why I asked to see you again. I regret how I handled it. I owe you more than that. We need . . . we need to talk, Korey.”

  “Fine. So talk.”

  “Not here. Please, let’s go to our spot. To the spot where you took me the first time we went on a car ride.”

  He sighed and nodded.

  They arrived at the creek fifteen minutes later. It was, of course, deserted at this late hour. The fishermen who sometimes sat at the dock with rod in hand were at home. The crabgrass-covered shoulder along the waterfront that usually served as a makeshift parking lot was now empty.

  When Korey parked the car and turned off the lights and engine, Cynthia stared out the window at the creek’s undisturbed, moonlit surface. The fireflies were here too, like they had been back on the Gibbons property, along with the crickets. Frogs croaked steadily, creating a wall of sound. She committed the scene to memory, hoping she would remember this moment for the rest of her life.

  “So what did you want to talk about?” Korey asked softly.

  “Remember . . . remember you told me once that you had been watching me for years,” Cynthia began, still gazing at the creek. “You said that you used to sit in the back of geometry class, trying not to stare at me. I thought it was . . . so . . . so sweet, that you were . . . that you were so scared to approach me, to even say hi.”

  “I was intimidated by you. Most of the guys in school were.”

  “I know. But you’re the only one who talked to me anyway.” She turned to him. “Why?”

  He unbuckled his seat belt and leaned his head back against the headrest. “Because that day you looked like you needed help, that you needed rescuing. It’s not like I planned it.”

  “Well, I’m glad you did it. I’m glad you finally talked to me. I never would have done it myself, even though I . . . even though I had been watching you too,” she confessed, making him widen his eyes in surprise. “It’s true, Korey,” she said with a nod. “I had been watching you just as much as you were watching me. I’d been doing it since junior high, but . . . but I knew it was pointless. You don’t come from a family with money. You don’t drive a nice car. You’re a small-town guy who will probably always be small-town. I’d just be wasting my time with you.”

  “Oh, thanks,” he said flatly, clenching his jaw, sounding wounded.

  “But none of that was true,” she added quickly, grabbing his arm. “None of it. You weren’t a waste of time. Being with you . . .” Tears pricked her eyes. “Being with you, Korey, has been the best thing in my whole entire life. I’m not going to get this again. I know that. I’m never going to love anyone or be loved like this again.”

  “So why end it?” he asked, placing his hand over her hand that held his arm. “If we love each other so much and it’s so perfect, why throw it away?”

  The tears were spilling now. “Korey, don’t you get it? Don’t you get what I’m trying to say? I don’t want to, but—”

  “Then don’t.” He cupped her face. “Who the hell cares what your mother thinks! I don’t, and you shouldn’t either. If you don’t want to break up, then we don’t have to. It’s that simple!”

  No, it’s not, she thought fiercely, her heart crumbling. She was already engaged to another man. They were supposed to get married in a couple of months and had planned to go on a romantic getaway to New York in a matter of days, a getaway that would more than likely include she and Bill having sex for the first time. She had put off getting intimate with Bill for months, but she knew that now that he had given her a four-carat engagement ring, he wouldn’t wait to get into her pants any longer. But how was she supposed to tell Korey all of this?

  “Korey, I—”

  She didn’t get to finish. He leaned forward and kissed her before she could.

  I should push him away, she thought as he coaxed her mouth open and their tongues danced. I should tell him to stop.

  But she didn’t want to. The sensation felt too good, and she had missed this. She missed his kisses and the feel of his hands on her body. She missed the passion they shared and the delicious thrill it gave her. Why not enjoy it? Why not savor it for one last time?

  He lowered his hand to her breast, making her nipples go rigid. He nuzzled her neck, licking at the peach-scented skin. His hands shifted from her breast and descended lower. He pulled up the hem of her ruffled jean skirt and rested his hand between her legs, teasing her through the cotton fabric of her panties. Cynthia spread her legs wider in invitation. She moaned just as his mouth returned to hers.

  The kisses were getting heavier now, more fervent, and the steering wheel and emergency brake were getting in the way of them getting at each other. Cynthia shoved Korey back, catching him by surprise. She gave an impish smile before climbing into the more spacious backseat of the sedan. Within seconds, she was pulling her pink T-shirt over her head. She tossed it aside, revealing the black lace bra underneath. She then hooked her finger, beckoning him to follow her.

  Cynthia didn’t have to tell him twice! He dove into the backseat after her, landing face-first on the cushion, making her laugh. As he tried to sit upright, she was tugging at his shirt, pulling it off of him. Those tight quarters became a whirlwind of flailing limbs and flying clothes. The two snorted and cackled with laughter as they undressed each other.

  When she was down to just a skirt and panties and he was only in his boxers, they started kissing again. But then Korey suddenly wrenched his mouth away.

  “Cindy, I didn’t bring anything,” he confessed. “I wasn’t exactly expecting this.”

  She shook her head. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I’m still on the pill,” she assured him before cupping his face and kissing him again.

  They hadn’t had sex without a condom before. She had always been too terrified of getting pregnant to not use one, but there was no way she was stopping this.

  Not now, she thought.

  The pace became less frantic and Korey did what he did best: made her toes curl, made her whimper and moan. She didn’t mind the rug burn she was getting from the seat upholstery or the window handle that kept grinding into her back. He fondled her breasts again, toying with the nipples, licking and squeezing them until she cried out in ecstasy. He showed just as much attention to the moist spot between her legs. He finally just took off her panties and tossed them over his shoulder. They landed on the dashboard. She squirmed and bucked. She moaned and groaned.

  “Oh, God,” she whimpered. “Oh, my . . . my God! Oh, God! Don’t you dare stop, Korey!”

  And he didn’t. He coaxed her to orgasm with his expert fingers, and when the tremors started undulating all over her body, she let her legs fall akimbo and cried out again. She returned the favor by taking “Big Korey” in her hands and stroking him. Korey groaned when she leaned down in the backseat and took him whole in her mouth. He threw back his head and closed his eyes almost reverently as she sucked him.

  Minutes later, he eased her back against the seat so that her head rested near the window. Cynthia spread her legs again, as far as space would allow, letting Korey lie between them. He hoisted one of her legs higher so that the heel rested on the back of the driver’s seat. He then kissed her again and plunged forward. She took an audible breath as he entered her.

  She told herself to remember this, to remember the sensation of him swelling inside her, of feeling his hips grind against hers, of hearing his heavy breaths and moans against her ear. But instead of committing it to memory, she got lost in the moment. Her hips rose up to meet him stroke for stroke. She dug her nails into his shoulders and his back. She felt her legs trembling under the strain of spreading so wide to accommodate him and yet another impending orgasm.

  When she came, she cried out one last time. He did also, soon after, crumbling against her with a satisfied grunt.<
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  By the time they finished, the windows of the Chevy were so fogged up that neither of them could see the creek outside. Only the hazy glow of the moon reflecting off the water came through the window.

  They lay holding each other, not talking, listening to the steady creek, creek, creek of the frogs and chirp, chirp, chirp of the crickets nearby. She wished the moment could last forever, but, of course, it couldn’t. It was time to do what she really came here to do.

  Time to say good-bye, she thought.

  “I should be getting back,” Cynthia whispered.

  Korey raised his head and looked down at her. “Yeah, I know. It’s getting late, isn’t it? Everyone will be waking up in a couple of hours, and the fishermen around here get an early start.” He chuckled. “I’d hate for them to find us this way.”

  “I would too.” They sat upright. “I don’t exactly look my best right now.”

  She was topless. Her hair was standing all over her head. Her mascara had run, and her lipstick had smeared.

  “What do you mean? You look beautiful,” he whispered as he handed her her shirt.

  And with those words, it was like a dagger had been driven into her heart.

  “So when can I see you again?” He pulled his T-shirt over his head and stuck his arms through the sleeves. “Next week? Are you free Saturday? Should I pick you up at the house or meet you at—”

  “Korey, we can’t . . . we can’t see one another again.”

  He paused from dressing and squinted at her.

  “What do you mean we can’t see each other again?”

  “That’s what all this was about. That’s why I wanted to see you one last time. I was saying good-bye.”

  “Good-bye?”

  “Yes, good-bye. I’m . . . I’m getting married.”

  His mouth fell open. He stared at her, dumbstruck. “You’re getting married? What the hell do you mean you’re getting married? Getting married to who?” he shouted.

  “To Bill Simpson,” she explained. “To that . . . to that guy I was dating. I told you about him.”