High Score

by Sally Apple

  “No, the guys reserved a room at the Hilton for them.” Rita’s meal arrived, and she attacked her pasta primavera with a vengeance.

  “Can I ask you a personal question?” Shelley asked, breaking the silence. “Has Skeeter always been faithful to you? Even before your wedding?”

  “When we first started dating, we weren’t exclusive.”

  Shelley sighed impatiently. “But he’s been faithful to you since you married him?”

  “Yes,” Rita said. “Except for that one time when he was going through a bad time at work.”

  “A bad time at work? What are you saying? That life was hard, so he found himself a mistress on the side?”

  Rita looked down at her plate, but not before revealing the hurt in her eyes. “It didn’t last that long. He confessed and promised never to do it again.”

  “And you forgave him?”

  “Of course, I did. Loving someone means being ready to forgive and forget. Letting bygones be bygones. Nobody ever said marriage was a rose garden.”

  Shelley tried to make sense of Rita’s attitude. “So you’ve never regretted marrying him? Never considered leaving?”

  “No. He treats me well and brings in good money. We quarrel once in a while like everybody else. Whenever I feel down, I think about Rachel’s husband who beats the crap out of her. What if we had that to contend with? No, I don’t regret marrying Skeeter. And I can’t believe you’re so upset. How can you even think of calling off your wedding at the last minute?”

  “Well, I’ll tell you why.” Shelley took a deep breath. “I’m not sure I love Dickie. Maybe I never did.”

  “Oh, Shelley! Of course you love him. You two are perfect together.”

  “He’s a nice guy, but—”

  “He’s got a good job. He earns a decent salary. He’d make a great father—”

  “How do you know?”

  “Well, he seems like the type that would.” Rita leaned forward. “The point is, he’s the only guy you ever thought you loved. We’ve both been disappointed in the poor pickings around here. Now you’re talking about throwing away the best choice of the lot. Think long and hard before you do something you regret.”

  “What do you think I’ve been doing? I’m going crazy.” Shelley hesitated, wondering how much she wanted to tell her friend about her private life. But who else could she talk to?

  “You want to die an old maid?” Rita asked.

  Shelley had to confide in someone, and who better than the friend she’d known since high school? “Okay, there’s more. I figured if Dickie didn’t want to wait until his wedding night, neither did I. So I tried to seduce him.”

  “You seduced Dickie?” Rita’s eyes widened, then she grinned.

  “Emphasis on tried to seduce him. He’ll sleep with a hooker, but not with me.”

  “Ooh, now I see why you’re upset.”

  “I was so angry! I wanted revenge, so I went over to High Score and hit on Thor Ryersson.”

  “You what?” Rita shrieked. “You tried to seduce Thor?”

  “Shhh!” Shelley gestured for Rita to lower the volume. “Don’t tell the whole world!”

  Rita’s mouth was gaping. “Do tell me the emphasis is on tried.”

  “I tried, and I succeeded. After reading the books you bought me and watching the video, I wanted to try out some things.”

  “Oh my God! I don’t believe this!” Rita shook her head as though to get a clearer picture. “And he…um…accommodated you?”

  “More than happy to. He taught me things I’d never dreamed of.”

  “Christ on a motorcycle!” Rita’s voice was a hoarse whisper, but probably more from shock than discretion. Her lips moved, forming what appeared to be the word “Unbelievable”.

  “Believe it.” Shelley smiled grimly and took a sip of her wine. “So you see, what Dickie is doing today, I already did. And you know what? I don’t much give a shit what he does tonight.”

  “Well.” Rita directed her unfocused gaze for several moments on the candle sputtering in the center of the table. “You’ve managed to amaze me. Completely.”

  “I shouldn’t be telling you all this. You’ll want to tell Skeeter, and no doubt he’ll tell Dickie.”

  Rita frowned. “Your friendship means more to me than that. I can keep a secret.”

  Relief washed through Shelley. “Good. I apologize for doubting you.”

  “As well you should!” Scowling, Rita viciously stirred her fork through her spaghetti, spilling sauce on the pristine tablecloth.

  “I’m sorry.” Shelley reached across the small table and patted Rita’s hand. “I’m acting like a real poop today. It’s just that I’m not myself right now.”

  “Tell me about it!”

  “You want to hear the rest?”

  “There’s more?” Rita lifted her head, her expression attentive.

  “I like Thor. I like him a lot.”

  “Ah, Jesus, Shelley! Don’t tell me that!” Rita grimaced.

  “I can’t help it! He’s so different from anyone I’ve ever met. He’s not afraid of me, he’s not afraid of sex. But when I asked Dickie to go to bed with me, he broke the record on the hundred-yard dash.”

  “That is strange.” Rita admitted. “But still—”

  “I don’t really know Thor that well. Not yet. But he’s exciting! He’s strong and virile. I feel safe around him, because he’s not afraid of anything. Compared to him, Dickie is an immature boy, scared of his own shadow. I don’t want a husband who’s afraid to have sex with me!”

  “Well…Dickie just wanted to gain experience so he can be a better husband to you.”

  “Bullshit!” Shelley waved to the waiter, gesturing that she wanted another glass of wine. “If that’s true, then he’s got a ways to go. I mean, maybe it’s too soon for him to consider marriage. He needs to do some growing up first.”

  “Maybe so, but if you two get married now, you can learn together. He won’t need a hooker again after tonight.”

  “So you say.”

  “Shelley, listen to me. You have to stay away from Thor Ryersson. You can’t see him anymore. You know that, don’t you?”

  If it wasn’t so rude, Shelley would have clapped her hands over her ears in order to shut out the words she didn’t want to hear. Her friend might have a point, but she just didn’t understand, might never understand, the strength of Thor’s attraction.

  “It’s only one week, okay?” Rita said. “Keep yourself busy and it will fly by.” She shook her finger. “I’m telling you this for your own good, and I can’t state it strongly enough. Stay home!”

  Shelley stared morosely into her empty wineglass. Hard as it was to admit, Rita was right. If Shelley did something drastic without thinking it through, she could ruin everything she’d been building toward. Dickie was a sure thing, while Thor was wishful thinking.

  “Say you will. Shelley, let me hear you say it.”

  “All right! I will!”

  * * * * *

  Shelley agreed to a double feature at the movies, grateful for the temporary distraction. Being alone all day with her chaotic thoughts wouldn’t have been much fun at all.

  It was after six o’clock by the time Rita dropped her off at home. Shelley entered the quiet house with a sense of dread. No distractions were likely to pop up here tonight, nothing to keep the thorny questions from nipping at her like a school of piranhas.

  On the way to the kitchen, she glanced at the clock. 6:20. Thor had practically ordered her to meet him at the store at 7:30. Well, he would know she wasn’t coming when she didn’t show up. She had some hard thinking to do, and seeing Thor would make that impossible.

  If only she could turn off her emotions. Rita had said men could turn their feelings off quite easily. Was it more difficult for women because they believed in romance and happy endings and forever after? Most men might enjoy a liaison, but scratch the romance. Endings, they could handle, too, but hold the happy.

  F
eeling empty, she realized she must be hungry. She had no energy for preparing a full meal, so she opted for a protein shake, chocolate flavored with a frozen banana to give it the substance of a milkshake.

  Dreams and fantasies were stupid, she realized, as she ran the blender at top speed. Especially dumb ones that never came to fruition. But how did one go about eliminating them from the mind and heart? What would she have to do to stop wishing and yearning for something she couldn’t have? Expunge all expectations? That might work if she only knew how.

  She poured her shake into a tall glass and took it into the living room where she could drink it while clicking through the channels on TV. What if she had actual expectation buttons built into her system, she wondered, with on and off toggle switches? Would she gladly flip them all off?

  Yes! They only brought disappointments, didn’t they?

  What is it you want so badly? You have to know what it is before you can push the correct button and switch the desire off.

  She gave up finding anything on TV worth watching and set it to a music channel with soothing New Age music. Slurping the last of her shake, she wondered whether she really wanted Dickie’s undying love and faithfulness. That thought didn’t bring complete satisfaction. Something was missing.

  Would she be happy if he came to her tonight and offered a night of lovemaking? Strangely, that no longer sounded as appealing as it should. Why not? What was wrong with her?

  Had she told Rita the truth when she said she didn’t care what Dickie was doing tonight? Somehow, talking it over with Rita had brought a measure of calm. For the first time, the image of a hooker trying to get Dickie to perform made her want to laugh.

  If you could have anything you wanted, what would it be?

  She wished she had a chance with someone like Thor. No, not someone like Thor—only Thor. The realization stunned her. Fantasies didn’t have a place in real life, she reminded herself. Now that was a button that needed to be toggled off quick!

  A relationship with Thor was totally out of the question for several reasons. Number one, he was never meant to be anything more than a one-night stand—or as it turned out, a short fling—a way to get even with Dickie. Number two, as if she needed more than one reason, he’d offered a prenuptial course in practical sex, nothing more. No promises had been made. Number three, he was leaving town for several months. More than two reasons was overkill. Number four, as Rita had pointed out, men could screw anything in a skirt and not give their hearts away. The eagerness with which Thor had jumped her bones before he even knew her proved that theory.

  The phone rang, and Shelley lethargically picked it up on the third ring. The number flashing on the caller ID identified Rita.

  “Hi, Rita. What’s up?”

  “I’m your friend, right?”

  “Yes, you’re my friend. If that’s what you called to tell me—”

  “Shut up and listen. As your friend, I think you deserve to know. I got home in time to see Dickie drive away with a blonde woman in his car.”

  “A blonde woman? What did she look like?”

  “Lots of makeup. Big hair. Plunging neckline on a stretchy red top that looked like it was painted on.”

  “Ha! Why should I worry about a floozy like that?”

  “She had humongous boobs and a waist tiny as a wasp.”

  “Shit! I gotta go, Rita. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Chapter Seven

  Shelley walked into High Score with two minutes to spare. A quick glance around revealed no other customers. Thor, behind the counter to her right, swiveled his head toward her. Their eyes met and held. His lips curved into a knowing smile.

  He thinks he’s got me pegged, she thought. He may be right.

  His gaze shifted to the clock on the wall. “You’re early.”

  “I almost didn’t come at all.” She kept her expression bland to hide a sudden surge of mortification. How shameless she must appear!

  His grin widened. “But you’re here. And early, too. I like an eager student.”

  She almost turned and ran out of the store. Almost.

  He moved out from behind the counter, his gaze never leaving hers. “I think we’ll begin by closing up early for the day. It’s Saturday night, but what the hell. I’ve got better things to do. That’s the joy of being the proprietor. I can do whatever I want.”

  Do you have the same attitude toward women? You can do whatever you want?

  As he brushed by her to flip the OPEN sign in the window over to CLOSED, every cell in her body responded to his proximity, his male scent, his palpable virility. The lock clicked loudly in the door.

  She took a deep breath. “I don’t know why I came tonight. I shouldn’t be here.”

  He walked back to her and pulled her into an embrace. “You came because you’re curious.” He spoke softly, warming her ear with his breath. “You want to know what more I can teach you. Right?”

  He was right—she did. Yet, there was more to it than that. An inexplicable bashfulness kept her from admitting what that was.

  “And you’re a walking sex bomb. Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He nuzzled her ear and flicked his tongue over her earlobe. “I’m very glad you’re here. I would have been disappointed if you’d talked yourself out of this. We’re going to have a good time tonight, you and me.”

  Feeling his strong arms around her and the firmness of his chest and belly pressed against hers, she realized she couldn’t get enough of his brand of excitement.

  He leaned away from her in order to unbutton her coat, shove it off her shoulders and down her arms. He tossed it on the countertop. His hands slipped around her waist, pulling her close.

  She absorbed his body heat through her white angora sweater and navy slacks. The massive lump in the front of his jeans swelled on contact with her lower belly. Her heart started to race at the thought of getting more intimate with him, of opening her legs and sliding down his thick shaft. Already, her body was creaming for him.

  He slanted his mouth over hers. The tip of his tongue teased her lips until they parted. He kissed her deeply, slowly, thoroughly. Her breathing quickened. His tongue moving in and out of her mouth reminded her of intercourse, and a jolt flashed through her body to sizzle between her legs.

  His big hands cupped her buttocks, pulled her hard against his erection. “I want to fuck you,” he said in a husky voice. “And I will, in good time. First, I want to play a little cat and mouse game. I’m going to show you all the ways I know to bring you to the edge and hold you there until you’re begging me to finish you off.”

  She whispered, “Sounds like sexual torture.”

  “You could call it that. A good name for what I’m going to do to you. Come on, I’ll show you the tools of my trade.”

  Taking her by the hand, he led her down the center aisle, flanked on either side with display tables heaped with sex toys, as identified by placards propped on tiny easels among them.

  He picked up a clear plastic box with a bright label. Discover the ultimate in oral sex! “You need one of these—it’s basic.”

  She took the package from him to inspect the contents. Short rubber fingertips in three sizes nestled in slots designed to hold them. They reminded her of the page-turners sold in stationery stores for people who need to thumb through stacks of paper, only these were thicker, heavier. “I don’t quite understand…”

  “They’re mini-vibrators. I’ll show you.” He took the box from her and pulled it open. “You insert the watch battery here, so it’s wireless and compact. Or you can attach it to this unit which has buttons to vary the speed.” He slipped it over his finger and demonstrated how to make it vibrate remotely by pushing buttons on the base unit.

  “The label mentions oral sex,” she said.

  “For that you use the largest one. Stick your tongue inside and drive your partner up the wall. First, let me show you how the finger model works.” He turned her facing away from him, then pulled her back
against his body firmly, with his left arm clamped around her waist. She trembled as he unbuttoned the waistband of her pants in front, lowered the zipper, and slipped his right hand inside.

  “Spread your legs,” he ordered.

  She caught her breath as his fingers caressed her. He stroked the length of her slit.

  “Oh, baby, you’re hot as a pistol already,” he murmured in her ear, “and I haven’t even started. I’d better be careful not to overdo this, or you’ll go off before I want you to.”

  His fingertip with the rubberized gizmo in place pressed against her clit. Cradling the remote control in his left hand while holding her snugly within the crook of his arm, he manipulated the buttons. Suddenly, the mini-vibrator sprang to life, humming against her sensitive nerves.

  Out of reflex, she grabbed for his wrist, but he tightened his arm around her, pinning her against his body.

  “Stimulating, isn’t it?” He grinned and stroked her clit with his power-driven finger.

  Uncontrollable mewling sounds escaped her throat. Never in her life had she felt anything like it.

  His vibrating finger shifted toward her vagina. “Notice how these are waterproof, so I can insert this inside you.”

  As he demonstrated, she began to shake. “Ahh, God! That feels—indescribable!” She spread her legs as far apart as her pants, now bunched around her hips, would permit.

  “Feels good, huh?” He withdrew his finger. “Later, we can try out the tongue model. I look forward to that.”

  She moaned. “You’re getting a real kick out of driving me crazy, aren’t you?”

  He chuckled. “Yes, I am. And the next order of business is to get you into something more comfortable. I love the way those pants fit your long legs and hips, but what I have in mind for you tonight, I need better access to your bare skin and nerve endings. Erogenous zones, if you will.”

  As he turned away, she yanked her pants up. If she ran like hell, she might escape to the parking lot yet. She was in way over her head with Thor. Recent revelations indicated she was falling in love with him, and that meant trouble with a capital T. Yielding to her impulse to keep this appointment had been a big mistake. Suddenly overcome with the dread of a broken heart and a ruined life, her instincts urged her to get the hell out of Dodge.