Crave
Page 12
I departed the plane with the other passengers in first class, retrieved my luggage, and sat down in the first chair I saw. My stomach was in knots, and the world visibly shook with each step I took. I clutched my wrist, checking my pulse. I hadn’t been sick in years, and each check-up had been a health nut’s dream come true.
Was I having a heart attack?
"Do you need anything ma’am? You don't look so good." An airport employee stood over me, eyebrows drawn together with concern. Shit, I must have looked awful. I didn’t want Amber to see me looking like this.
"Thanks, I just got bad news. I appreciate your concern though. I'll let you know if I need anything." The man reached down and squeezed my shoulder. I flinched and hoped he didn’t notice. I knew he meant well, but strangers touching me made my skin crawl. The man must have had a bad case of PBD, also known as poor boundary disorder.
I gave him a weak smile, and then he dipped his chin down, winked and thankfully, strolled away.
Damn it all, I really wanted to see Amber, but there was no way I was going to let her see me when I was such a total mess. She didn’t need to pick me up when I could just hire a car. I'd go in the front door, so she wouldn’t see me. Unless she was in the house, it would give me a few moments to pull myself together.
The thing was, I wanted to see her now. I didn’t want to wait, but I needed to have a few moments to myself. Shit. I placed my face in my hands and took a few deep breaths. Slowly I felt my muscles loosen and a bit of my tension evaporate. I put my hands in my lap and looked at the people walking by. Half of them were happy to see someone, and the other half were blank-faced business travelers with their faces in a phone. Jesus, I’d spent most of my life observing people, instead of living.
That was going to change.
I needed to calm down before I called a cab. I stood up and noticed a bar on the opposite side of my gate. I'd often thought of opening one here at the airport myself, since there would be no shortage of customers.
A martini would definitely hit the spot.
It was a small bar, only six seats and four of them were taken. I sat next to a woman typing away at her laptop, hoping she was too busy to want to talk.
"You look like you could use a drink." The bartender smiled, handed me a small menu, and then walked into the back.
"I hate that." The woman next to me mumbled.
"Pardon me?" I turned, wondering if she was addressing me, or talking to herself. Long braids streamed down her slender back. She smiled in my direction and spoke.
"The bartender is nice enough, but I hate it when they say stuff like, 'looks like you need a drink' or 'bad day, huh?' I'm like, that's none of your damn business. Just give me the menu." She whispered, and then laughed. I laughed along with her, knowing exactly how she felt.
"Yeah, that's the truth. Whatever, it could be worse. They could ignore us all together." I whispered back.
"I'm not so sure that would be such a bad thing. I'd love a self-serve drink machine. Hell, I could swipe my card and stick a glass under a spout, as long as it pours me a good Tom Collins, I'm happy." Her smile was brilliant. Normally I'd be annoyed by the banter, but she had a good vibe, one that made her intrusiveness not so... intrusive?
"You leaving Raleigh, or here for a visit?" The bartender asked, intrusively. My eyes met the woman’s eyes, and we threw our heads back, laughing. I tried to pull myself together, but it was hard when her laughs kept goading mine along. I looked up and noticed the smile on the bartender's face drooping more and more with each of our giggles.
"I'll have a martini, extra dry." I managed, before I caught the woman's eye again. We giggled some more, then settled down.
"Shit, sorry. I... I'm just back from a funeral, and you've caught me off guard. I think it's the first time I've laughed all week." I said. The bartender placed the glass down and walked away, scowling.
"Oh, honey, I'm sorry. Looks like we're in the same boat. Just returned from burying my mother." She lifted her glass, and I touched it with mine. For a few moments we sipped our drinks in silent companionship. Finally, I resumed the conversation.
“It was my father. Thank you, by the way, I needed that. It's amazing how much energy gets used up during times like these." Bizarrely enough, I enjoyed her company. How was it she could bond with me when so many others made me want to run away screaming?
"Are you from Raleigh?" I asked.
"No, this is a connecting flight. Denver’s my final destination. I've got an hour and a half to kill, and thought, what the hell, I'm going to get my drink on. Two weeks of dealing with relatives has worn out my last good nerve." She shut her laptop, closed her eyes and took a long sip of her drink.
"I'm just trying to calm down before I head home. I know things won’t be the same now, but I'm trying my best to pretend they will be. Hoping this will help." I said, and pointed at my drink.
"Maybe they're not supposed to be the same? I know this opened my eyes some. Life is too damn short." She stated.
My eyes bulged as the words left her lips. I kept hearing that same phrase over and over again. It was too damn short, so what could I do to make it better? Did I want to continue on my current path, or should I alter the journey somehow?
"You aren’t the only person to say that recently, and it's all I can think about." I said, surprised to be continuing this conversation. Strangers made the best shrinks. Maybe I should consult a real one?
"I've had a successful career, raised three kids, all graduated from good schools. I can honestly say I've done all the things you're supposed to do to have a good life. The thing is, I did most of those things, because it was what was expected of me, not because I really wanted to do them. I'm thinking I need to figure some shit out." Her candor struck home.
"I know what you mean. I've built up a stellar business. I could put it on auto-pilot now and it would do just fine without my input. I've put everything else on hold. Like, I've had this narrow focus for years and let everything else glide by, figuring I'd eventually get around to doing them. Now I'm like, what the hell was I thinking? Do I want to go to my grave just being a good business owner, or do I want to be known for something else, like being a good person? I’m afraid I’ve limited myself.”
"I'm a bit older than you." The woman placed her hand on top of mine briefly, then looked me in the eye. "You've got plenty of time and apparently the resources to do more." Her long nails were painted a soft burgundy, with pale yellow tips. They tapped the bar, then she shocked me with her next question.
"What's her name?"
"Amber. Do you run a psychic hotline for a living?” I laughed, and shook my head. Where the hell was my usual force field? I’d spoken truer words to this stranger in the last five minutes than I had to anyone in years.
"No, just a boring pharma job. I've been around the block a few times, and I'm going through a similar thing. Call it a lucky guess.” She sighed, her voice growing softer.
"I've been divorced for ten years. Haven't dated much, always had the kids to think about. Now they're gone, and it's just me and Carol. We're in the same division at work. Until now I worried about what the kids would think, you know, about me being involved with another woman." She took my hand in hers once more, squeezed it and let go.
"I'm not going to my grave denying myself happiness, because I'm worried about what other people think. That includes my kids. If they can't deal, then to hell with them. I've spent my whole life doing for others. I’m putting myself first, and fuck anyone who has a problem with it. I don't know if that's what you're going through or not, but if it is, I want you to know that you're not alone."
Maybe that was the biggest problem. I was alone, always alone.
“Sounds like a good plan. No, my problem isn’t with kids, or anybody else. It’s with myself.” I never ever opened to anyone like this. Out of the blue I heard my childhood voice pipe up; “She started it!” I giggled, relishing the brief moment of childhood clarity.
“I was thinking to myself how I never open up to people, never wanting to lay heavy stuff on them. This little voice in my head, probably my inner five-year-old piped up, ‘she started it!’”
The woman laughed.
“I wish I could place blame on someone else, I really do, but it’s my fault. I want to trust people, open myself up more. Let’s just say events in my life have made it difficult for me to let go, to allow myself the freedom to let someone in to my heart.” I finished my drink and signaled to the bartender that I’d like another. I wasn’t driving, and no one was expecting me.
“Are you happy being alone? Don’t take offense, I know it’s personal, but I’ve noticed that many people are happier alone. I used to think I was one of them until I met Carol.” She said.
Inner reflection wasn’t an activity I enjoyed. This wasn’t just about me, though. I had to think about Amber. She wasn’t just an employee. Maybe she was becoming more than a friend?
“I wasn’t unhappy being single, or at least I didn’t think I was.” My voice cracked. I sipped my drink and winced. Too much vermouth.
“Until now?” She looked into my eyes, and I noticed hers were moist, glittering even.
“Yeah, I guess so, until now.” I raised my glass and touched it to hers. We sank into a comfortable silence. I threw back my drink, waved at the bartender for my check. I needed to go home.
“Thanks for the talk. I hope everything goes well for you.” The woman glanced at her watch and asked for her check too. We shook hands, and I walked outside to search for a cab. Thoughts swirled through my head as I sliced through the crowd, a sense of urgency pushing me forward. I needed to get home and see this through to the end.
Damn it, she was right. Until now, I’d not given much thought to anything except making money. My whole identity was wrapped up in the image of financial success. Building a wall of cash to protect me from the world, so nothing I experienced as a kid could ever hurt me again. Now that part of my life was over. Dad was gone. I could continue living as a successful recluse or I might find some happiness, or at the very least give it a try.
“Miss, do you need a cab?”
I nodded my head, handed the man my bag and sat in the backseat of a beat up minivan.
“Where are you going to?” He asked.
“Amber. Oh, I’m sorry, out by Pullen Park.” I gave him my address, and he drove me home, in a wonderful, blissful, silence.
Amber
I poured a second glass of Shiraz. I’d grown to love the buttery, smooth taste, but on this day it didn’t even register. In fact, nothing seemed right. I’d texted Simona twice already, and she’d not responded. I saw the little dots moving once, but then nothing. If I kept texting or called, she might have thought I was a crazy stalker or something. I mean, it wasn’t an emergency, so she might have become pissed off if I kept bugging her.
Since she’d told me her Dad passed away, all I could do was worry. I kept wondering what the appropriate response was. Most people had families, close friends they shared their lives with. I didn’t have that, and it was situations like these that I became self-conscious I wasn’t responding correctly. I didn’t know how I was supposed to act when a good friend’s parent died. I hated to think that Simona was suffering, but I didn’t want to do or say something inappropriate. As much as I cared about her, technically I was still just an employee. I had no idea what she felt for me.
I placed my glass on the nightstand and laid back on my bed, lowering the pillow over my face. Darkness helped me to calm the racing thoughts. I focused on breathing evenly, but had to push the pillow aside to do it. I needed to accept the fact that after a couple of weeks had passed, I would have to give my two weeks notice and move on. There was no way I could continue on as her employee and feel like this every day.
Fuck me.
I needed to tire myself out to stop these crazy thoughts. Swimming laps would take care of that. I went to the bathroom to grab my swimsuit off the shower rod and glanced out the window, wondering if it was late enough in the day to skip sunscreen. That’s when I saw lights on in the house.
Oh my God, was Simona home? I thought I was picking her up from the airport! I raced back to the bedroom and picked up my phone, only to find no messages or calls. I knew I had turned off the lights. Shit. Maybe I had forgotten? What if it was an intruder?
There was only one way to figure it out.
The alarm was off. Next to the back door was an umbrella stand. Simona didn’t use flimsy, drug store umbrellas. These were heavy and expensive, so I grabbed one in case I ran into a burglar. I was pretty sure it wouldn’t do much damage, but there was nothing else available.
My heart pounded as I crept through the kitchen. Every step I took caused the floor to creak, and I cursed under my breath that she lived in an old house. I toed off my sneakers and scooted them under the kitchen table to minimize the noise. As I tiptoed through the downstairs, I noticed two lamps were on and the front door was locked. Finding no one, I realized If someone was here; they had to be upstairs. Shit, if it was an intruder I’d have a hell of a time escaping, but I had to check it out.
The hardwood steps groaned with every step I took. Halfway up the steps I paused to steady my breathing. My flight or fight response was on high alert. I knew I had locked the doors and secured the alarm. Simona told me she would call me to pick her up. Damn it, this couldn’t be happening.
Then I heard footsteps.
Without thinking I crept up the last few steps. Surprise was my only weapon, well, besides the umbrella. When I reached the top, I pulled the umbrella in close to my body then lifted it over my head. It was now or never. I closed my eyes and placed my foot on the last step, took a deep breath and turned the corner on to the landing.
“What the fuck!” I heard, and my eyes snapped open. It was Simona wearing a short and sheer white bathrobe staring at me with a hand over her mouth.
“Oh God, Simona, I’m so sorry, I thought you would call me to pick you up. I didn’t mean to…”
“Bwahahaha!” Simona leaned against the wall, her shoulders shaking with laughter. “You, you standing there with the umbrella over your head, it’s so… Hahaha!” She slid down the wall to a seated position on the floor, unable to finish her sentence.
Damn, it wasn’t that funny.
What the hell, I’d needed to see who was up here, plus I had to protect myself. I glanced down at the umbrella, closed my eyes and tried to imagine how I’d looked as I turned the corner on the stairs. My stomach muscles loosened, and I felt a giggle of my own coming on. I opened my eyes and smiled, then saw something strange. Simona’s hand was raised toward me. She was still laughing, but she wanted me to grasp it, I guessed to help her off the floor. I placed my hand in hers and to my surprise, she pulled me down next to her, and I almost landed in her lap. I tried to scoot away, but her firm grip kept me there.
“I’m sorry, I shou-should have ca-called you when I got to the airport.” she said, between guffaws, but locked her eyes with mine. Her giggles slowed, but her eyes never strayed. I couldn’t stop staring into her gold-flecked brown eyes. They had such lush lashes, and the closer her face came, the thicker they appeared.
“I’ve wanted to do this for so, so long.” Simona murmured, her voice taking on a sultry undertone.
Her full lips were inches away and my pulse raced. I closed my eyes and a heartbeat later I felt her lips feather onto mine. Softly at first, and then her tongue dipped inside my mouth. Simona’s hand found the back of my head, pulling me tight against her.
I felt an insatiable need to taste every single cell of her body. I placed my hands on the sides of her face, loving the softness of her cheeks. A moan rumbled up from deep in my chest, and then reality tried to knife its way between us. I yanked myself back knowing this shouldn’t be happening.
“Are you sure Simona? Because I can’t take it if this isn’t real.” I held my breath, waiti
ng for an answer.
“Oh, Amber, I’ve never felt surer of anything in my life.” Her hand moved up the back of my neck into my hair, sending electric tingles through my scalp.
“You’ve brightened it somehow, and your waves are so soft, so sexy.” Simona pushed my head down, and I felt her lips in my hair. I lifted my face wanting to taste her sweet lips again, but instead found the skin beneath her ear. Her head reared back, a groan vibrating through her throat directly to my lips and tongue.
“Oh God, Amber, you do not understand how much I’ve wanted you.” She gently pushed me back and stared into my eyes with her lips open. I moved forward at the same time she did and her smooth, firm body leaned into me with force. I slid against the wall sideways, and in a matter of seconds I was flat on the wood floor, her body on top grinding into mine. I’d never felt so aroused in my life, and the ache between my legs was growing more intense. Simona pulled back long enough to grasp my shirt, and seconds later the buttons flew across the floor. Then her head dipped, and I felt her tongue making circles around my nipple. She teased at first, and it became hard to breathe. Her nimble tongue was magical, and when I felt her teeth lightly nibble on my nipple, I felt like I would lose my mind.
“Oh my God, please, I can’t…” I groaned, and my body quaked beneath her. Simona’s hand reached underneath, firmly gripping the small of my back and lifting me a couple of inches off the floor.
“I want you, all of you. I haven’t felt this way before, never in my life. Amber, oh Amber.” She whispered in my ear. Her robe fell open, and the olive skin of her chest was flushed. The fabric barely concealed her breasts.
I trembled when she spoke those words. Simona wanted me? Like, really wanted me? My lips drew back in a smile so wide it hurt. Her tongue traced circles around my ear lobe, causing every cell in my body to vibrate. I’d only been with one other woman before in my life, and it was nothing like this. There was nothing I would not give her. She could have it all, my body, mind and my heart.