by Portia Moore
He’s smiling slyly. “That’s up to you.”
“Is it?” I say, closing my eyes again I feel his breath on my neck, causing me to bite my lip to keep from letting him know the effect it’s having on me. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to seduce me,” I purr as his hand slowly creeps across my stomach.
“Tell me. How am I doing?” His voice is husky and is barely above a whisper. My little inner voice is going crazy, screaming at me. This is where I should tell him good night and that I had a nice time and it's time to go; but I’m having trouble doing that.
A crash of thunder snaps me out of the trance I’m falling into. I disentangle myself from his embrace and walk towards the window, watching the raindrops paint the city. He comes to stand beside me. I don’t look at him, but I know he’s watching me.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he says quietly.
“You’re not. It’s, it’s just—this is all… I’m not used to this,” I admit stumbling over my speech.
“I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do tonight. As hard as it is,” he lets out a long sigh and laughs.
“I’ll keep my hands to myself the rest of the night,” he smiles innocently, crossing his arms over his chest and deliberately tucking his hands under his muscular arms. The thing is—I don’t want him to keep his hands to himself. I want them all over me and it’s terrifying. I’ve never wanted someone so bad in my life, and it’s overwhelming.
“Do you do this? I mean seriously, is this just a routine for you?” I ask him, my heart in my throat. I’m afraid to hear the answer.
He looks at me, surprised. “Well, I’m not going to lie and tell you I’m a saint. I’m far from it. I love women and I’ve never had to work too hard to get one,” he says bluntly. I cross my arms as well. I think somewhere inside of me I’m jealous imagining all of the women who have stood in this same spot, who have walked through his door and been in his bed.
“But, you’re the first woman I’ve been with that I can honestly say if you left here tonight without letting me see what’s under your dress. I’ll still call you,” he says with a slight chuckle and I’m appalled. What a douche-bag thing to say!
“It’s time for me to go home,” I say irritated. Definitely time for me to go. I turn to walk away, but he grabs my hand.
“Wait! That came out wrong. I’m sorry. I’m not used to having to explain myself to anyone,” he says. He runs his fingers through his dark locks and laughs.
“I like you! I love being with women. But I usually don’t like being with them if that makes sense,” he tries to explain and he seems a little confused. It’s the first un-cool moment he’s had and for the first time tonight I notice flecks of green glimmering in his gray eyes; they twinkle at me.
“You seem like the type of guy that doesn’t think beyond the night. I’m not like that,” I tell him.
He steps towards me and the familiar heat rushes between us.
“Well, I see you past tonight,” he says cupping the side of my face; I lean into his hand and close my eyes. I don’t know what to do. My mind is telling me to leave at this point, to leave right now. My body is begging me to stay and let him do whatever he wants to it. My heart is lonely; I’ve been alone for so long. Even with Michael, something was missing, and I know this pull he has over me has to be lust, but there’s something else. If it was just lust I wouldn’t be so afraid, right?
I turn away from him back towards the window, trying to collect my thoughts—my wants versus my fears.
“What do you want from me?” Who am I kidding? I know exactly what he wants.
“I want you to tell me what you want,” he whispers and second later his lips have found the secret spot on my neck that sends a thrill over me.
“What if I don’t know what I want?” My voice goes up an entire octave.
He turns me around so we’re facing each other now. He leans down, pulling me into a breathless kiss. I have to wrap my arms around him tighter to keep from losing my balance. I softly whimper as his tongue begins to explore my mouth, and he begins to slowly unzip my dress almost as if he's waiting for me to stop him when I don't his hand slides beneath the thin material. The heat of his hand seems foreign but amazing.
Opening my eyes the room is spinning but my focus is on him. Each movement to the rhythm, every kiss, every touch—he shouldn’t be able to make me feel like this; it’s almost like he can read my mind.
“I want to be the one to show you things you’ve never seen,” he whispers in my ear as he unhooks my bra. “Make you feel things you’ve never felt,” his voice pours into my ear as his hand slides up my thigh.
“Just let me,” he says, picking me up. The strap of my dress slides down my shoulder.
“And what do I have to do?” I whimper out completely under his spell. He lifts me higher so I’m looking into his eyes, and brings his mouth to my ear.
“Say yes,”
There are so many reasons I should say no: I barely know him, we’ve only been out twice.
“Yes,” I say, breathless.
***
The time it takes for Cal and me to reach his bedroom on the second floor of his apartment passes within seconds; he’s carried me as if I was a feather. Once we enter the room he pulls me into a slow, deep kiss that leaves me hungering for more. After his lips leave mine we catch our breath. With the few seconds apart my mind begins to race.
“Wait, um. Do you have any-any protection?” I ask, immediately feeling the awkwardness of the question as soon as it leaves my lips. Still, this is the first time I’ve ever been in a situation where I haven’t been in a committed relationship with a man I’m about to share my body with. I haven’t quite planned for things to go this far tonight and Hillary’s earlier premonition mocks me.
I open my eyes as I feel his arms around my waist loosen their grip. Damn, those gray eyes are spellbinding. He sets me down, my toes are reveling in the softest plush carpet I’ve ever walked on. I shift my focus out to the rest of his face, searching his expression to see if there is any hint of anger. I’ve heard horror stories of men who refuse to use condoms. Thankfully, he flashes me a wide smile, takes my hand, and leads me toward the bed. He sits and busies himself rummaging through a drawer built into the headboard. I try to calm my nerves and hormones by distracting myself and surveying my surroundings.
His room is large with walls that area Stone gray color. A large fireplace sits high on the wall adjacent to his California King bed that seems to stretch for miles decked in blue and gray linen. My eyes quickly scan the room for personal effects but there are none. No photographs, trinkets, or clothing scattered about. I do notice an unopened king-sized Snickers bar on the mantle above the fireplace which starts painting shadows across the room’s walls. A woman’s voice pours from the surround sound system in the bedroom.
I feel his hand slide up my stomach, and it reels me back into the moment at play causing every nerve in my body to awaken. The gold foil wrapper is sitting beside him on the bed, waiting for me. I take a deep breath and move to sit beside him, but his hand on my wrist stops me.
“Here,” he says, gesturing to the space in front of him in a deep authoritative voice. My body begins to tingle all over and I move to where he’s told me to. He shifts forward to the edge of the bed and gently pulls me closer toward him; his face is now only inches from my stomach and his lips caress the space above my navel gently and the muscles in my stomach and lower flex in response. His fingers slowly trail up the back of my thighs as I look into his eyes—dark gray now, lust replacing the light green specks that dawned in them earlier.
“I want you to know that you’re in control,” he says sensuously licking the lips that I badly want to cover mine. His hands move up my thighs, sweeping across my backside to my waist. He bites his lip but suddenly leans back on the bed resting his weight on his elbows. His eyes are locked with mine, and I feel like he’s teasing me. I’m co
nfused, but then I remember his earlier words. He’s waiting on me. I feel myself flush all over and let out a small breath. I turn around so that my back is toward him.
“Take off your clothes,” my voice is low and unrecognizable but I can’t help feeling some satisfaction at the confidence I feel. I feel him behind me and hear him removing his clothes. A few seconds later, I hear the wrapper opening. My heart is beating a mile a minute.
“Now. Take off mine,” I say, the nervous pit in my stomach transforming into an excitement I’ve never felt a rush that’s foreign, a craving I don’t recognize. I feel him behind me. His hands move the hair falling down my back to one side of my shoulder; he licks each shoulder blade, sending tingles up my spine. He slowly unzips my dress and pulls it down off my shoulders. I can feel his arousal pressing against me. His tongue caresses the back of my neck. One of his hands explores my body, while the other removes my bra. I’m free.
Usually, this would be the point where I feel awkward, nervous, and self-conscious about the first time my body is revealed, but this is different. I reach my arm up to hold on to his neck, my knees are literally weak, but a slow excitement has been building since I’ve told him to take off his clothes. His touches and dragging kisses on my body are becoming torturous.
His fingers find their way between my thighs pushing the thin, now moist, lacy material aside and slip inside of me. I gasp, involuntarily throwing my head back. I push his hand away and swiftly turn around to face him.
“I didn’t say you could do that,” I whisper, a teasing grin on my face that disappears as soon as I see his perfectly sculpted bare body. I don’t have long to admire it before he picks me up, capturing my mouth. His tongue dominates mine into submission and it’s not until I’m on the bed, with my body captured beneath his, that he releases it.
I catch my breath and he smiles down at me wickedly. He brings his mouth to my ear and I slide my hand up his back.
“Do you know what you want now?” he asks before his lips start trailing down my breast, enrapturing one of my nipples. I try to focus on what he’s saying. He stops and I look at him pleadingly.
“Tell me what you want,” he demands again facing me, his eyes hypnotizing. My body’s yearning for him, craving him, almost on the brink of begging him to enter.
“Everything,” I admit almost desperately, never having spoken a more honest thing in my life.
He smiles at me, seemingly satisfied. “That’s what you’re going to get,” he promises, granting my wish.
May 9th 2011
“Lauren, sweetie,” Raven’s voice wakes me up. I open my eyes and see the sky is dark, but lit with stars. I’ve fallen asleep on the patio couch waiting for Cal to come back.
“What time is it?” My body is stiff. I sit up to work out the kinks in my back.
“Is Cal back?” I grimace, trying my best to keep the urgency out of my voice. I feel
anxious; butterflies are lining my stomach again.
“I’m sure he’ll be back soon, and that everything is fine.” Raven unsuccessfully tries to sound confident. I can’t even smile to hide my disappointment. I’m too tired to try to play the role of a happy and content wife. It isn’t even worth it after the show Cal and I put on for her neighbors.
“Can you think of why he wouldn’t tell you what happened?” she asks and I roll my eyes. If only I could think of a reason other than he doesn’t want to.
“Lauren. Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?” she asks taking a seat beside me. Okay, here it comes.
“You’re going to ask it anyway, aren’t you?” I reply sardonically and make room for her to sit beside me.
“I don’t mean to pry, but honey, something doesn't seem right with you both?” she asks softly.
Her tone is eerie and sensitive; the tone people use when approaching an unpleasant subject.
“What makes you think that?” I say sarcastically, and I immediately regret my snide remark as she looks down at her feet defeated.
“I’m sorry, Raven,” I say, sighing and looking into the distance. I’m angry and frustrated, but it has nothing to do with her. She’s done nothing but show concern for me, and I have no right to patronize her like that.
“Sweetheart it’s okay,” she says, squeezing my hand supportively, and I feel tears in my eyes. God, I hate this. I hate that she can still read my face, and that she can bring whatever emotions I’m suppressing to surface.
“Honey, don’t cry,” she says before wrapping her arms around me into a long, warm embrace. I can feel myself breaking down. I hug her back, tears flowing down my cheeks.
“It’ll be okay, sweetheart,” she says, stroking my back.
“I-I don’t think it is,” I reveal to her.
“I knew something was wrong when I first saw you. I was hoping it wasn’t this.” She pulls a Kleenex out of her jacket pocket and hands it to me, taking a seat beside me as I wipe the tears from my face.
“Is it another woman?” she asks almost nervously.
“I don’t know what he does, he’s gone so much,” I admit. “Honestly though, I may be in denial, but I don’t think it’s another woman or women. Then again Cal would never let me find out; he’s too smart for that,” I say undecidedly. I think back to the night where we had a huge fight about my theories on why he's gone so much, when I first became tired of his frequent disappearances and how that ended and led to the pattern we have now.
“Well. What is it? He doesn’t hurt you, does he?” Raven asks worriedly.
“NO!” I say quickly. “That’s not it at all. Cal has never hit me, pushed me, he even hates to argue. He always just leaves. That’s the problem.”
“Well honey, sometimes it’s best to leave, especially if he has a bad temper. A long walk…”
I knew she wouldn’t understand. She’d probably think I was silly or over-emotional if I told her how I really felt. “I don’t mean it like that. It’s more than that. Cal, he’s…” I exhale. I can’t even say this out loud to anyone without sounding like an oversensitive idiot.
“Lauren, you can tell me anything,” Raven says reassuringly.
I sigh and go to stand at the railing on the other side of the porch. If I tell her this, I can’t look at her.
“When we first met, it was like… it was like I was dreaming. He was this handsome, mysterious, rugged, and intelligent man. All that I could ask for. I’d never felt as attracted to anyone as I was to him. My hormones took control, and I left my brain behind,” I look back awkwardly at Raven, who has a small smile on her face.
“Go on,” she says clasping her hands.
“It was like I wasn’t living in the real world. It was just us. In the real world, I wouldn’t just go with a guy I barely knew without asking any questions. But with Cal, I basically knew nothing about him, and I didn’t care. Because though I didn’t know facts, I thought, well, I felt like we were connected. I told him things that I’d never told anyone,” I pause, reflecting on the many nights in bed with Cal that I’d reveal all my soul wrapped in his arms, his eyes on me as if I was the only person in the world.
“God, his eyes, those eyes were what I fell in love with. They’re what make me forgive him a thousand times over,” I wipe the leftover tears on my face. “How can our marriage work if he doesn’t trust me? Today just proves it, and it’s not just today. He rarely ever tells me how he feels. He leaves when he’s angry. And then he comes back and thinks everything can be fixed with a good fuck!” my jaw drops as I realize what I’ve just said out loud. I look at Raven, feeling embarrassed, but I see that she’s not. She’s listening attentively.
“I-I just don’t know how to get through to him. I don’t know how to make him open up. He won’t let me in. I used to try so hard, and then I got sick of being turned away or shut down. And today was just a reminder of that. If he doesn’t trust me, can you imagine the secrets he has? If he gets to pick and choose what I get to know and not know, I’m more of a child than a wife,
” I take a much-needed breath.
“Well, from what you’ve told me, his job is confidential in nature. That would explain...”
“It’s not the job!” I interrupt her, shaking my head defiantly.
“It’s something else. I can feel it. Whatever happened today…” I trail off as I catch sight of the black Porsche pulling up to the driveway.
Raven walks over to me, puts both hands on my shoulders, and looks me straight in the eye.
“What’s in the dark, will always come to light,” she says, giving me a reassuring smile before pulling me into another hug. She then withdraws into the house, and I turn my attention to Cal getting out the car. His face is expressionless, and he glances up at me as he slowly climbs the stairs.
“I don’t…” I begin, but he holds a hand up, stopping me mid-sentence.
“I’m not doing this with you tonight. If you want to fight, stay out here and argue with yourself,” he says disdainfully. I look at him standing there, expressionless. Like I’m the one who likes to fight and argue all the time. Like I didn’t sit on this porch for hours since he left, worried about him, waiting on him to come back safely.
I think of how he has the nerve to stroll up as if he didn’t fly out of here like a bat out of hell after kicking me out of his car. I want to throw a fit and yell at him and not stop until he tells me what’s going on. A part of me wonders if everything earlier was an act, an excuse to get away. Maybe the answer is obvious: he’s a cheating bastard.
…Yet, when I think of him earlier, how his eyes pleaded with me, how he was distraught and vulnerable, and that one moment where I saw the panic and worry I never had before, I know that he’s genuinely struggling with something, I fight every urge inside of me to smack him across the face. Instead, I hug him. I hold him close for a long time. Tomorrow I will need answers. I’ll demand them. I can’t go on with him like this. Tonight though, I know he needs me, even if he doesn’t say it.