by Peart, A. O.
I cross my arms over my chest and look into the distance.
“What?” Ali asks.
I sigh.
“What is it? Come on, Nat. We need to concentrate our time and energy on the other customers. You’ve been giving her everything and then some. Stop torturing yourself, Miss Perfect.”
“Yeah… I’m not arguing. I’m just having a shitty day, so making any kind of decision feels like moving mountains.” I chew on my lower lip and feel my brows pull together. I make an effort to relax my forehead muscles, but they don’t want to obey me. Ah, screw it.
“You don’t need to do anything today, sweets. Look, I’m pretty much caught up, just need to read two more resumes. Do you want me to take over some of your stuff?” Ali’s voice is soft.
I look at her, and the sincerity in her face makes me want to cry. What’s happening to me today? “Ugh, I must be PMS-ing. Don’t worry. I’ll be okay. And… thanks.” I manage to smile, although I’m not sure how happy that smile turns out. I stand up to go back to my office.
“Go have some lunch. I’m eating in,” Ali says.
“Okay. I will. Getting out of the office might help clear my head.”
“And call that hunk of yours!” Ali hollers after me. “He needs to work his charm on you.”
I smile, and this time I feel better. Ellen, our receptionist, giggles at Ali’s remark. I turn to grin at Ellen. We both shake our heads and roll our eyes.
I text Colin, and he calls me right away.
“Hey! Guess what?” he sounds excited.
“You got a promotion?” I try to guess.
“Nah. But I’m in Bellevue, so let’s meet up for lunch. Are you free?”
“Yes.” Omigod, how does he always know to be around when I need him the most? My mood immediately improves.
“I’ll pick you up from your office in fifteen minutes. Would that work?”
“Sure. I can meet you downstairs, so you won’t need to look for parking,” I offer.
“Cool. See you in a bit. Love ya.” He hangs up.
I say quietly, smiling, “I love you too.”
I tell Ali and Ellen that I’m leaving and will be back in a couple of hours. Ali smirks when I say that Colin’s taking me to lunch.
“I’m sure you can call that lunch.” She giggles.
“Shut up. We are going to eat,” I pretend to sound indignant.
FOUR
“Sex alleviates tension and love causes it.”
Woody Allen
A few minutes later I wait at the curb right by our office building. Colin pulls up, reaches across the front, and opens the passenger door for me.
I get in, and he immediately pulls me close and kisses me long and deep.
Hells on wheels, my heart pounds in my chest as if this is the first time we kiss. I must be super sensitive to his pheromones or something.
Colin whispers against my lips, “I want you. Now!”
I laugh and playfully push him away. “I thought you were hungry.”
“Yes. For you.”
“O-kay. So what’s the plan?” I ask.
He grins at me. His smile becomes more voracious, and I know exactly what’s on his mind.
“Whoa! Where are you taking me?” I laugh when he peels off the curb and turns around toward downtown Bellevue.
“You’ll see.” He shoots me a quick look full of mischief.
Soon he turns into the Hilton hotel parking garage, and I look at him, my eyes round.
“No way.” I laugh. “Are you serious?”
“Absolutely.” He parks the car, and then runs around the back to my side to open the door for me.
“You’re insane, Mr. Hampton.” I take his hand and swing my legs out of the car.
Colin helps me out and closes the door. “I am, and you love that about me.” He grins suggestively.
“You’re so full of yourself.”
“Let me show you how to have a good time.” He pulls my hand, and I almost have to run to keep up. Damn five-inch stilettos.
It takes Colin about four minutes to get a room, and soon we are upstairs, opening the door with a plastic cardkey. He picks me up, pushes the door open, and then closed, and strolls straight into the bed. I squeal in delight when he throws me down and I bounce on the mattress.
Slowly, Colin crawls over me, his eyes on mine. He’s smiling in that sexy, predatory way I love. He pulls my dress up and straddles me. I run my hands alongside his muscular thighs and all the way to his zipper, where his bulging erection pushes out, wanting to be set free.
He leans over me, supporting himself on his outstretched palms and kisses me. I open my mouth to welcome him in. I want him so badly, that nothing else matters now. We manage to get out of our clothes, and soon my naked legs and arms are tightly wrapped around him. His fingers explore my sex, setting me on fire.
“Colin, please,” I beg.
“Shh. Soon, baby.”
His lips are on my nipple, mercilessly sucking and tugging. Two long fingers are inside me, rubbing and circling the very place that I need him to attend to. He gently bites my nipple, and that’s all I need to find my release. I cry out, while my muscles clench around his fingers. The sensation is overwhelming, and I thrash under him, wanting more of him inside me.
“My Natalie. My beautiful girl,” he murmurs against my opened in elation mouth.
“Please, don’t stop. I want more.”
“I won’t stop, baby. You will get more. Much more.”
When the last tremors of my orgasm fade away, he moves down, tracing with his tongue a line between my breasts, along the length of my stomach, and all the way to my burning with desire folds. Soon, I move rhythmically against his mouth. I climax again and cry in helpless abandon.
Colin sits on his heels and spreads my thighs wider, resting them over his. He pulls me upward toward his hardened core, until I feel it pressing against my pulsing clit. I bite my lip and try to push forward to have him inside me, but Colin restrains me.
“So impatient,” he scolds impishly. With his hand he guides his cock up and down over my cleft, teasing but not entering.
His tongue sneaks out of his mouth and slowly moves alongside his upper lip, his eyes on me. He circles my over-stimulated clit with the tip of his penis, and I’m about to explode, when in one swift motion he’s inside me, pounding ruthlessly.
I hear my own scream, but I don’t feel my throat making any sounds. The only thing I feel is Colin’s length stretching me, filling me. I come and can’t stop. It goes on and on. I rake my fingernails over the sides of his thighs, and he lifts my hips higher, never stopping his hammering.
When he grunts and stills, I entwine my fingers with his. He’s still holding onto my hips, pulsing inside me and breathing heavily. His rippled stomach glistens with sweat, and his hair is playfully tousled, giving him a delicious just-fucked look. He lowers me down and pulls out, collapsing onto the bed next to me.
I turn my head to look at him. His eyes are squeezed shut, and there is a tiny smile, playing on his beautiful lips. I lean forward and kiss him. He opens his mouth, and his tongue sneaks out to tease mine. We kiss deep and slow, as if nothing around us exists; as if time stands still; and for what I know—it actually might.
I forget about my PMS and about Esther Bosarge. It is only Colin, his arms around me, and his rigid, lurching length, pressing against my stomach. That is all that my completely relaxed mind takes notice of now.
FIVE
“Life is just one damned thing after another.”
Elbert Hubbard
A few days later, I ask Ali, “You wanna go out tonight?” I’ve been feeling restless all day, and I can’t pinpoint the reason behind it. Hell on wheels, if I won’t go somewhere… do something, anything I will explode.
Colin left this morning for a two-day business trip to Atlanta. I’m not sure if it’s the fact that he’s not in town, or maybe I’m still overthinking the creep incident from a few nights ago�
�either way, I feel way too uneasy.
“Sure. I can give Ashton a well-deserved break.”
Thank you, dearest Ali.
“Well-deserved?” I laugh. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“I meant myself. Well-deserved for me. I’ve been spending a lot of time with him lately.” She takes a long, slow sip of her Diet Pepsi through a straw.
“Cool. Let’s call Jena and Caroline. No, wait, Jena texted me yesterday. Her grandma’s visiting, so Jena wants to hang out with her.”
“I talked to Caroline this morning. She has a date with some mysterious man. She wouldn’t tell me who, like it’s top secret, and I’m, fuck forbid, not privy to such information.” Ali huffs indignantly.
I stop typing. “Huh. It really must be some kind of a freakin’ secret, because I know nothing about it either. Our Caroline is living a double life. Anyway, let’s go to The Triple Door tonight. I’m in mood for some live music.” Maybe I should hit the gym instead. This weird energy inside me is unbearable. Or maybe I just had too much coffee today.
“Cool. I love their food.” Ali jumps in her seat. Any place that serves great food gets her approval. “Okay, finish up, it’s five thirty. I’m going home to change. What time should we meet up?”
“Seven thirtish? I don’t know. I will text you when I’m about to leave my place.” I continue typing another email. After that I need to check my schedule for the rest of this week and see if anything needs to be moved around.
“Sounds good!” Ali hollers from the hallway, heading toward her office to retrieve her purse and jacket. Soon she sticks her head back in my office and says, “I’m off. Get your ass out of here, Davenport.”
I smile and nod. “Yes, ma’am.”
Fifteen minutes later I’m in my car, leaving the parking garage. The beginning of December in the Pacific Northwest is typically damp and gray, but this year we are having oddly dry and cold weather. I’m driving toward the freeway right by Bellevue Square and Lincoln Square. The crowd of pedestrians is thick. The holiday shoppers carry large shopping bags from the various stores in both malls. I make a mental note to order all my Christmas gifts online in the next few days.
My parents won’t be spending the holidays in Seattle this year. They are going on another cruise and asked if I wanted to come with them. But it is a two-week cruise, and there is no way in hell that I could possibly leave Ali alone with all the Strong Connections business for that long. Besides, this will be the first Christmas with a decent guy in my life and not with some low life loser.
I smile at my thoughts, imagining Colin in a Santa’s hat and red pants that hang low from just below his hips. He’s shirtless and bare footed. That is a yummy concept. Yep, let’s be naughty and save the real Santa a trip.
Around seven fifteen I’m about to call a cab. I text Ali, and she texts right back, confirming that she’s on her way too. Soon after, I arrive at The Triple Door, pay the driver, and exit the taxi. There is a short line to get in, but it’s moving fast. I’m inside in a matter of minutes and wait for a table, glad that I made a reservation before I left the office. Someone grabs my arm from behind, and I jump.
“Hey you!” Ali hugs me, laughing.
My knees buckle, and I lean heavily on Ali to stay upright. Geez, what the hell?
“Hah, I scared ya,” she squeals, and then looks at me. “You’re white like a freakin’ ghost, Nat. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” I put a confident smile on my face.
The hostess takes us to our table, and the waitress arrives quickly after we sit down. We look at the menu and order beer on tap—the Triple Door Backstage Ale. Ali says it’s her favorite. We ask the waitress about the band that’s going to perform tonight. It’s a jazz group from the Portland area that neither Ali or I have ever heard of. But the waitress tells us they are pretty good. Hope so. I’m not in the mood for jazz. I think of Colin and long to be in his arms.
An hour later, Ali and I agree to leave. Ali seems relieved. Maybe she just wants some peace and quiet, like me. We decide to take a short walk, since the weather is dry, and the air feels crisp and refreshing.
“Ali, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately. I’m so antsy all the time.”
She bumps her shoulder onto mine. “No worries, sweets. I didn’t care about that band anyway. They were…”
Ali stops half-sentence and points ahead of us. A young woman around our age is running in what looks like five-inch stilettos. We both stare. She trips and almost falls. A long string of, most likely, a juicy swearing in some Slavic language leaves her lips. She stomps her foot, which is impressive—those heels are not made for stomping. The girl must have had some serious training. A model maybe? She looks like one—her legs are mile-long, her hair is impeccably done, and she’s dressed in gorgeous clothes that definitely didn’t come from Walmart.
I look at Ali, and she looks back. We don’t have to say a word. The scene in front of us is so bizarre that one glance at each other is enough to confirm that we both think the same: time to investigate and help a fellow female in distress. We rush toward the girl. She’s standing with her long-fingered, manicured hands on her hips, looking into the distance, deep in thought.
“Yehbu tvoyu mat!” she suddenly says. I have no idea what that means, but there is no doubt it’s something nasty.
“Hey,” I call out, “do you need help with something?”
She turns to us, frowning. She’s gorgeous, with flawless skin, huge blue eyes, framed in the world’s thickest eyelashes, and a full, pouty mouth. Her long blond hair looks healthy and shiny, falling in a perfectly straight sheet over her back. “I… I… uhm, I lost my kitten,” she says in a strong accent. Russian maybe?
Her kitten? In the middle of downtown Seattle?
“It ran off?” Ali asks somehow dubiously. “Were you carrying it around?”
“No, no.” She shakes her head. “Someone take it… took it.”
“What do you mean?” I step closer to her.
She’s wringing her hands and biting her lip. More of this, and she’s going to eat up all that thickly applied lipstick. I notice a diamond ring the size of a doorknob. It is on her middle finger, so probably not an engagement ring.
“What’s the matter?” I gently touch her arm.
The woman looks from me to Ali, definitely distressed. “Uh…” She shakes her head and exhales loudly. “Crap.” The way she pronounces crap sounds more like crrapp.
“We can help you find your kitty,” I say. Or rather it is my mouth that opens again and says something before confirming it with my brain. But Ali is nodding enthusiastically, so I’m guessing it’s okay. After all, this girl seems totally at a loss. I can’t pretend that I don’t subscribe to the Female Solidarity Club.
Her eyes grow big. She opens her mouth and stares at me. “You would do that?”
I’m taken aback for a moment. Why in hell someone would think that offering help to find a cat is such a big deal. Eh, it must be the Eastern European way or something.
“Sure.” Ali nods. “So tell us what happened to the kitten. Did you carry it here… I mean, on the street? And someone just took it from you?” Ali sounds incredulous, and I can’t blame her. People usually don’t carry their cats in downtown Seattle. And people don’t usually take pets from their owners. Do they?
She looks away, as if trying to summon the courage to tell us what the hell is going on. When she looks back at us, there is a resolve in her eyes. “This woman… older woman took the kitty. Lenochka… that’s kitty’s name. She ate that medalyon.” The girl pats her copious breast.
Hell on wheels. What does that mean? Did she… breastfed the cat? Is that even possible? I look at Ali, and she stares at the girl openmouthed. Not many things can baffle Ali, but this apparently did.
“Wait a minute.” Ali puts her palm out and shakes her head in confusion. “It ate what? What happened exactly?”
“Medalyon,” the
girl pats her chest again. “Antichniy medalyon.”
“Okay, okay, wait, antique? Something of an antique quality? What’s medalyon? Medallion? A pendant?” I gesticulate.
“Yes!” the girl exclaims. “A pendant. Old pendant.”
“Ah.” I nod and turn to Ali. “The cat ate some vintage pendant.”
She rolls her eyes. “Must have been really hungry.”
I try not to chuckle, because the girl is eyeing us uncertainly. She seems really stressed out. Well, if my cat ate a piece of antique jewelry from a mobster’s stash, I would be too. There is only one way to get it out now, and it’s not going to be pretty.
“What’s your name?” I ask her.
“Svetlana.” She smiles sweetly. She pronounces the “l” in Svetlana very softly.
I attempt to say it in the same way, but my American tongue must be way stiffer than hers. Ali does a better job. Whatever you do with that mouth of yours, girlfriend is working the linguistic magic here.
“I’m Natalie, and this is my friend Ali.” I point to Ali.
“Where are you from, Svetlana?” Ali asks.
“Moscow. I live here now. Three years here.” She gestures around, indicating Seattle. “You will help me find Lenochka?”
Ah, yes. Lenochka, the cat from hell who devoured an antique pendant. “Sure. Tell us what happened exactly. Who took your Lenochka and where did she go?” I start my investigation.
“And why did that woman take it?” Ali adds.
Svetlana sighs, her shoulders rising and falling once. She bites her lower lip, and her eyebrows form two wavy caterpillars. The hands wringing is back. She’s really freaked out about that cat. Or about that pendant. Or both. I smile encouragingly and touch her arm again. “Go on. Tell us from the beginning—who took her.”
“My boyfriend is in this gang—”
“Whoa! What?” Both Ali and I exclaim.
I start to rethink the offer of the Female Solidarity Club membership to Svetlana.
“He is a really good man…” Svetlana’s eyes dart from me to Ali and back. “He takes a good care of me.”