Natural Selection

by Amanda Lance

  She took off her top and reached for the dress closest to her. It looked too crazy to wear for Halloween, let alone out in public, and with its short, fringed bottom and bright pink skirt, she felt like a ballerina, looked, she thought, like a little girl trying to play make-believe.

  She took it off and immediately went for the next one.

  “What in the world are you doing in there?” he inquired. “You sound like a stampeding elephant.”

  “I am trying on these stupid dresses.” She sighed and pulled the strapless bottom up. Looking in the mirror, she only swore again. Why did other women enjoy this so much?

  “This is ridiculous. I look like a retarded bird.” Opening up the dressing room door, she frowned as deeply as she could before brushing the hair out of her eyes.

  “A retarded bird, no.” Kasper looked away briefly to make sure the salesgirl was not to be seen. “Beautiful, yes.”

  He crossed his legs and studied her as she once again pulled up the strapless dress. The ball gown itself was a navy blue from top to bottom with a layered skirt that swept the floor just slightly. Kasper marveled at the way the golden beads of the bodice brought out the highlights of blonde in her hair, and how the intricate pattern drew more attention to her fantastic breasts—making her neck look long and possibly more elegant than usual.

  “I guess it’s okay.” She ran her fingers through the lacy ends of the first skirt layer. And before she knew it, she was smiling. “I don’t know much about dresses.”

  “Nor do I, but I know that you look sensational.” He looked her up and down and smiled. “You will allow me to purchase it for you.”

  “No.” She laughed. “Not a chance.”

  “Emilia,” he chided. “This is not a request. Moreover, if you recall correctly, you owe me.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Well, since you left me the other day, I have been unable to do anything other than think of you.”

  “And?”

  And? And? Was she mad? Had his love for her perverted her ability to produce logic in some way?

  “And…” he emphasized. “Since you have deprived me of the joy of my work and music, you must agree that you owe me this small happiness.”

  “I don’t even know if it really fits.” She turned awkwardly, revealing her bare back from middle to end. Instantly, his imagination betrayed him, the endless potential from those inches of her flesh driving him into a slight frenzy of madness. And as she reached to pull her hair up and away, he felt his limbs tingling—one of them more than others.

  “Will you help me out?”

  He swallowed hard, trying desperately not to let his hands get the best of him. This was in public! This was indecent! Still, as he reached his shaking hand to assist her, she leaned back into him, causing his breath to stiffen in his chest and the world to spin slightly.

  “Are you going to help me put this on or what?” She giggled.

  He closed his eyes and shook his head. If he didn’t get control of himself soon, there may very well be a dilemma she would not be able to escape from.

  “I’d much rather help you take it off.”

  Kasper felt the way she trembled at his touch and the red flushing of her skin as he played with the zipper of the dress. Though he knew he should have done as requested, it seemed sinful to cover her flesh from him—to conceal it from someone who would admire it the way it deserved to be admired.

  “Kasper…” she leaned into him a little more and pulled him into her, prompting both of them to make their way into the dressing room. Emilia giggled as he exposed more of her back, digging his thumb into her and running it up and down the line of her spine. And while he thought he had control of the situation, she refuted him completely by turning to deposit her lips on his.

  He kissed her back, permitting his hands to roam her body while the dress slipped off. Briefly, his mind registered that she was probably not in her right mind—that he should have thrown water on their fire—yet his body wouldn’t allow him to stop, and before he realized it, his hands were reaching for more of her.

  Emilia gasped when be backed her up into the dressing room wall, the cold of the mirror was probably increased by how intensely hot he was making her body. Once her mouth was free, she moaned his name, all but forcing him to find her neck, which in turn only elicited quiet squeals of delight from her.

  While both parties wanted to continue—to do everything else and more, noise from afar pulled them both from their stupor. Panting and startled, her eyes widened and fixed on him. If they hadn’t been caught yet, they certainly would be soon.

  “We should…”

  “No,” he growled and pulled her hips into his. “You will finish what you started.”

  “Here?”

  He traced his fingers over the line in her throat and smiled at the way she shuddered for him. Oh, how he had missed having control of her—the feel of his body dominating hers!

  “Certainly not.” He looked over his shoulder once more. Oh, if only they were alone!

  “Dress quickly,” He instructed. “Before I do something you will regret.”

  Chapter 9

  Domination

  Kasper stared at her from the rearview mirror throughout the entire drive to his hotel—causing him to nearly do irreparable damage to his vehicle. What if she changed her mind? Was she only teasing him to lure him away? No, he decided. She had responded to his every touch, made her desires known with her words and actions. There could be no doubt that she wanted him equally as bad as he wanted her. Still, at every stop light he stared at her, doing his best to study her laughing expression instead of feeling the raging hardness pushing up his trousers. And it was only when he saw her safely pull into the parking lot behind him that he allowed himself to feel a minor bit of relief.

  He pursued her as she walked into the lobby past the security and mindless concierge, watching every move of her body as she walked in front of him. A moment later, his lack of confidence was undermined by the fact that she pulled him into the elevator with her, slamming her writhing body against his.

  They were kissing before the doors even closed, hands too slow to touch all the places they wanted. Cameras or wandering eyes be damned! Kasper felt like a man dying of dehydration and she was a raging stream. If he didn’t have her as soon as possible, he would surely die of thirst. Yet Emilia took it one step further, placing her arms around his hands to guide them touch her breasts. When had she learned to kiss like this? To insist her tongue against his? Naturally, he gave in to her every whim, loving the way her nails dug into the back of his neck, adoring the way she moaned his name.

  They continued in the elevator and down the hall, dispersing from one another only so he could unlock the door to his room. Once there, she pushed him into the sitting room and kicked the door closed behind her playfully. Emilia smiled, all hesitation gone from her now as she opened her blouse slowly by twisting each button with her thumb. Without thinking, he reached for her, but she shoved him away again and retreated to the other side of the room. Did she want him to chase her or simply go insane with longing?

  He played her game—a willing participant in her maddening sport—doing his best to restrain his lust while he watched her slip off her shirt and barricade herself behind the large sofa. Kasper smirked, lunging to the left to get to her, but just as quickly she dodged to the right—giggling and turning a bright shade of red from her efforts.

  “For all my attempts to be patient with you, my little peach…”

  “You’re losing it?”

  Ah yes, he knew it! She was trying to manage him, to break him like a wild horse before its first riding. Oh, but he would show her. He would teach her not to toy with him…

  He lunged over the sofa, surprising her with his sudden aggressiveness. And once he had her, he kissed her. Hard. For all of her receptiveness in those first seconds however, Emilia suddenly tugged her mouth away, jerki
ng her head away from his so that her lips were unattainable.

  “Oh no, you don’t…”

  He picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder like a hunting trophy. Strangely enough, he tossed her on the bed with ten times more gentleness, startling her into submission. She rotated her hips to the side, but with a primal growl, he forced his mouth against hers, distracting her as much as he willed. When they broke for air, he wordlessly dragged her up so that her thrusting hips were pinned against own.

  Without her permission, he began kissing the soft spot between her ribs, holding her hands above her head when she began writhing against him. Vaguely, he wondered if she had any idea of how fair it was for him to torture her like this—how wonderfully, deliciously fair it was. And as he unbuttoned her jeans, she no longer struggled against him, but with him, thrusting her hips up to wiggle out of the constraints that kept them apart.

  Her quiet gasps to the ceiling sent his lust spiraling out of the mild control he did have, and as her most intimate flesh began to appear, he lost himself, running his tongue along her pubic bone to between the inside of her thighs. Kasper would have gladly pulled them apart if he had to, bribed her with kisses if necessary, but she opened willingly for him, gleaming with all the desire he could have hoped for.

  Her entire body convulsed when he found that delicate bud of flesh, that part of her so intimate it might have remained unfound forever without the proper explorer. He echoed in that secret place of hers, tasting and tantalizing as he never had before. Emilia threw her head back as his mouth locked onto her. And as her hands flailed from the bed sheets to find his scalp below the wig, she called out in the only desperate and needy way he would ever want. She flowed into him like an endless sea, and when he had had his fill of her, Kasper looked up to admire the pleasure induced expression he was responsible for. She remained unaware and trance-like as he took her in: the mess of her hair that created a halo like effect and the rapid rising and falling of her chest…Finally, he spoke.

  “Payback,” he mused, “is delicious.”

  ***

  In spite of his pleas and protests, she left him later that night, torn between wanting to stay in his arms and tend to her favorite four-legged friend. Still, Tut was home alone—had been most of the day—and Emilia couldn’t very well leave him to fend for himself.

  Strangely, she did not hear the tromping of paws as she climbed up the final stairwell to her apartment. Instantly, despite the new joy that lingered in her heart and body, she felt a pang of worry.

  “Tut?” She withdrew her key from the door and set her bag down. “Tut? Buddy?”

  She smelled the sick before she saw it—the sour smell of rejected stomach contents. Once she did, that initial surge of panic took her over and her eyes went on a search for the source.

  “Tut? Tut, where are you, buddy?”

  She found him in the bathroom. The reason being, she guessed, was the relief the imitation porcelain probably gave him on his furry frame. Emilia was unsure of how many times he had gotten sick, and between being on hold for the vet and cleaning up the messes, she had forgotten to keep track.

  Guilt filled all of her senses as she cleaned him up—as best she could, anyway—considering his lack of cooperation. By the time she got him in her car and made her way to the emergency animal clinic, another entire hour had passed.

  Why did something terrible always have to happen just when everything was going right?

  ***

  Other than hydrating Tut and giving him a mild sedative, the veterinarian could do little for him, and even less for Emilia, who worried with every needle prick and gargling noise that emerged from her dog. Emilia, of course, knew from her schooling that vomiting was a good sign, especially if he had gotten into something he shouldn’t have. Yet her motherly instincts were making her irrational and had her getting snippy with the vet, cutting off the vet’s assistance every time he tried to talk.

  Ultimately, they drew blood for tests before sending Emilia home alone, insisting that if they let every owner spend the night with their pets who wanted to, they would be a hospital instead of a veterinarian clinic. So, after kissing Tut good night and cursing herself for not having something from home to give him, she returned to her apartment to proceed to worry about the large bill she would surely receive from the vet and to air out the combined smell of sick and cleaning chemicals.

  Somewhere between crying and scrubbing the floors again, Andrew came over.

  “Em?” He knocked on her open door and looked around. “You know your door is open, right?”

  “Yes.” She sighed and got up off her knees to dump the bowl of dirty water. “I know, Andrew.”

  “Okay, I just wanted to know if you had watched that movie yet—” He paused and stepped into the doorway, seeming, it appeared to Emilia, to be more confused than usual. “Hey, did I miss something? Where’s the furry guy? Usually he’s jumping all over me by now.”

  Emilia shut her eyes to the prickling feeling of new tears. She would focus on Kasper now—the best subject in the world to help dissuade her worry. “He’s at the animal clinic…”

  “The vet, why? Did you volunteer him for an experiment on improving doggy brain power? ’Cause I hate to break it to you, Em, but he’s never going to be the brightest crayon in the box—”

  “He’s sick, okay? I got home and he had thrown up all over the place, and frankly I don’t think it’s a funny thing to joke about!”

  “Damn,” he said, taking a step back. “Sorry.”

  “It isn’t your fault.” She rinsed the remainder of the water down the kitchen drain before moving to sit at the kitchen table. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

  “I understand. Anybody would be upset. Is he okay? I mean, do they know what’s wrong with him?”

  “No. Not really. Considering he just got sick out of the blue though, he probably just ate something bad.”

  Andrew nodded seriously. “Happens to the best of us.”

  What Andrew didn’t know, however, was that she should have been home hours earlier than she had been. That because of the pleasure her body had been receiving, she had left her friend in the lurch—very possibly being the indirect reason he was ill.

  “Well.” He nervously began scratching the back of his head and the impending feeling of doom plowed through her gut. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but eh—”

  “Oh no.” She waved her hands out in front of her as if she could push the negativity right out of the air. “Don’t tell me.”

  “I can’t go to that party thing of yours—I have to grade the exams for both of my professor’s classes and make up the pop quiz for next week. I’m gonna have to work nonstop for the next two days, bury myself in the study cave and all that.”

  She groaned and rested her head against the table. “And the day started out so promising…”

  “Even the bad ones do.”

  “I’m sorry you’re so busy. We’re definitely going to miss having you there.”

  Sighing, he rolled his eyes and headed for the door. “I’m sure you and Sarah McLachlan’s greatest hits will be just fine without me.”

  “Oh ha ha, Andrew, very funny!”

  She could hear his laugh all the way down the hall.

  Once he was gone, Emilia showered, not failing to see the dog sick she had gotten on her forearms or the new hickies that were beginning to form on her body—a testament to the day’s strange events. What if Tut’s sickness was the world’s way of punishing her for her happiness? No, she told herself, she had to think logically. Letting her superstitions get the best of her wouldn’t be helpful to anyone—least of all help her worry less about her dog. Still, Emilia had explored the house and found no evidence of anything he could have poisoned himself with, and his food, though smelly, appeared to be perfectly normal.

  So if Tut hadn’t gotten sick from something he ate, then what was it? And what could she
do to prevent it from happening again? She refused to believe that his sudden illness was a sign, though she had considered it. There was just no way that her relationship could be sabotaged again—she wouldn’t let it be. After all, how could two bodies be so contorted for one another and not be designed for each other? Briefly, she considered her afternoon and evening delight with Kasper. Was it too soon to call him or should she have called to reiterate her feelings about their time together? To wish him good night?

  Tired and worn out, she finished getting her pajamas on and collapsed into her bed. Maybe at least waiting until the morning would be better.

  ***

  Had he done something wrong? Displeased her in a way that he was unaware of? If he did, he could not figure out what he had done that would elicit such a lack of response from her, the complete inconsideration of his feelings. Still, Kasper racked his mind, looking in the crevices of his brain to decide exactly how he had offended her. At the time she left, there had been no question that she would return to him, smiling and her eyes wide with what he observed as love. And try as he might, Kasper could not sleep through the night for thinking of her—lost in lust and the possibilities the future might hold.

  He continued to think on this even as the fifteenth hour away from her morphed into the sixteenth, seventeenth, eighteenth… eventually giving up and contacting her himself and receiving no response. Even then, he did not immediately panic. There was the last minute appointment with the tailor, and deliveries from the skittish concierge to contend with—the last minute preparation acts required until the gala to redact his time. Yet at the twenty-fourth hour when she had failed to pick up the phone a second time, the full-fledged horror of what might be filled him up.