by DJ Wilson
He has a point. “OK, maybe Christian could learn a trick or two from you,” I relented, remembering our first night on the bike cruising through the cornfields of Iowa.
“Damn straight.” I huffed, “We’ve made love on just about everything that moves and floats — but to date, nothing that flies. I regret I’ve yet to introduce you to the mile-high club.”
“Slut that you are, how many women have you screwed in the air? And another question that begs to be answered ... did you do Victoria on the bike on the ride back?”
Dang, that was close! “Last question first, no! As to the other one, I don’t kiss and tell.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Gigolo, you shared quite a few of your adventures when we first met. If you’d found the time to write, I wouldn’t be surprised to find our exploits already in a bookstore somewhere. I can see it now, 'Candi — A Ride to Remember.’'”
If she only knew...
Chapter 71
Taking in our well-appointed room, we were blessed with an inviting four-poster Queen bed, an oval mirrored antique dresser, two club chairs, and a mahogany, drop leaf legal secretary. None of which, other than the bed after being long on the bike, called my name. Laying down, it swallowed me, even before Candi crash-landed on my stomach, pushing me deeper into the plush goose down comforter.
“I’m hungry, D. What’s for dinner?” After a long pause, I asked, “What’s up with that? ... Where is the quick-witted man I remember?” I pouted. “There was a time when you’d tell me I could have you for dessert, first. And I did, too, multiple times.”
“Girl—” I caught myself and the word friend did not escape my lips, Victoria wouldn’t understand. “You’ve said very little on the ride up today. Now you want to get frisky? I’m not being petty, but you’ve not hugged me, kissed me ... laughed with me all day.” Damn ... I sound like a woman. “Now you belittle me and call me names. Tell me, Candice, are you angry, jealous, frustrated, PMS-ing — what? At least tell me something.”
“Maybe all the above. D,” I pleaded. “Can’t you see it? The newness is gone along with the thrill of the chase. I chased you. You chased me. We lusted, we connected, we bonded — then poof, we disconnected. Now we’re connecting again. I won’t lie. It’s harder than I thought it would be. It was much easier for me to dream of what we had, what we lost and what could have been when we were apart. You lived vividly in my memories of us.”
“What you see is what you get, Candi. I’m imperfect and flawed. I got it. You can look at my precious dysfunctional family and see that. We were individually looking for the same thing. We were just too self absorbed to find it in each other. And we could have, mind you, if we’d talked more, hugged more, laughed more and loved more together, rather than apart.”
I continued. “Life is not black and white. It’s emotionally charged, gut wrenching shades of gray, hints of orange, smatterings of red and brilliant hues of blue. Collectively, these feelings cohesively tossed together becomes the formula that makes us into what we are today.”
“D ... help me take us back to the way we were.”
“You’re not listening, Candi. ... It can’t be absolutely the way it was. You’re right; the newness is gone. And so is the chase now that we’re together again. That’s not always a bad thing. The emotional fluff is gone. If you’re committed to make us work, our relationship can be deeper, healthier, stronger, but it begins at the foundation. The last time I looked that foundation, though chipped and dinged, is pretty strong. You’re a spoiled brat, Candice Parker, who has always experienced life through rose-colored glasses. Me, I’m an imperfect man, subject to fail without notice, trying to redeem himself one day at a time.”
“I don’t want perfect, D. I want ... I want ... you — or someone like you, who makes me whole.”
“There you go. If having me in your life makes you strive to be better, then we have in place the very cornerstone to build our future on.” Bam, bam, bam ... I could tell by her knockers ... knocking ... Mile was at the door.
“D? Candice? Hungry?” bellowed Mile.
“We’re not finished talking, Candi. I got it. Over the next couple of days, let’s reacquaint and recapture us while having fun with the Italian stud and his filly. Speaking of ... please let Mile in.”
I wasn’t finished ... But I had to be for the moment. “Coming, Mile.”
We ordered in, Maddiao’s Pizza to be exact, complimented by two large Greek salads. And we dined fine, drinking Sam from a glass, no wine, watching director Clint Eastwood’s classic, “Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil” until eleven. “In the morning, say around eight, Candi time, I will take you to Clary’s, the most delicious breakfast cafe, bar none, in Savannah. Established in the early 1900s, this restaurant has been a local favorite of mine for as long as I can remember. Oh, and it was featured in the movie we just watched.”
“Sound good, not hungry...” beer burped Gio. “Cuz.”
“You will be by tomorrow. Night.”
“Good night, Mile. ’Night, Gio. Mile, if you’re up early, beat on our door. We can all go for a walk, can’t we, D?”
“Yes, Candi, we can,” I replied, while my mind wandered, That is, if I can get enough rest sleeping beside this ice-cold popsicle in the making.
I dropped my clothes on the chair, slipped into bed in my shorts and turned on my side facing away. Beer and pizza is conducive to sleep. Serious late night conversations, it is not.
How dare he? I pushed on his shoulder with both hands. “D, turn over! We’re not finished talking.”
“You talk, I’ll listen,” I assured her, two minutes before I woke myself snoring, on my side. ... Imagine that!
He’s snoring already? ... I can’t believe it! Snuggling up to him, I tossed my right leg over his, followed by my arm. This I remember most ... how safe I felt with him in my arms. My anger slowly subsided. Sleep quickly followed.
Chapter 72
I woke at five, even without Major’s cold nose to prompt me. Candi, sound asleep on her side of the bed, coaxed me — no she downright begged me — whether she knew it or not to cuddle with her a few minutes longer. Sliding my hand under her tee, I stroked and massaged her breasts until I drifted back to sleep.
I was roused from a pleasant slumber with a hand on my breasts. Yes, this is more like it. D, spooning me, caressing me, holding me, not sexually but lovingly. I closed my eyes and dreamed of him.
Knockers ... knocking ... jolted us awake at 6:30. “Mile’s here,” I announced. “You best let her in, Candi,” I said, noticing my morning erection. “Trust me, I’m not decent.”
“Not me, D. She’s all yours.”
“OK...” I stammered, “be right there, Mile.” Opening the door, my little brain peaked out to confirm it was Mile, dressed in her skintight yoga pants and her short-short tee. “Come on in,” I proudly announced, “Candi is still in bed.”
Giving me the once over, then a second, Mile’s eyes transfixed on well … “D, you have problem?”
“Not at all,” I grinned.
“I fix Gio’s ... Candi fix you?”
“You’ll have to ask her, Mile. I have no dogs in this fight.”
Now wide-awake, “What are you two talking about? What problem am I supposed to fix?”
Walking backwards toward Candi, I stopped at the edge of the bed, before turning around, cheek slapping her with the rigid one-eyed monster, poking proudly out of my boxers. I pointed. She got it.
“Oh ... Oh!” What was I supposed to say?
Mile, seeing where this dog and pony show was headed, politely spoke up. “I be in lobby ... You come ... soon.” Then she quietly closed the door.
I smiled. “You heard her, D. Come soon. Yesterday was all me ... this morning is all you.” Laying my head over the edge of the bed, I took him long past my gag reflex into the far recesses of my throat. With each gentle thrust, his balls smacked my forehead giving me a raw sensation I’d never experienced before. One minute turned to two,
then three, then four, then five. My poor achey-breaky mouth. I withdrew him, rolled onto my stomach and looked up. “What’s up with you?”
I grinned sheepishly, “You Lovelace’d me. That was incredible. Why did you stop?”
Exasperated, I clenched my teeth, “Why didn’t you?”
“I didn’t know you wanted me to. I’m sorry. I’ll take care of it.” Moving to the opposite side of the bed, my hands parted her beautiful round cheeks where I entered her from behind. Using my hands on her shoulders for leverage, I rose up and down, first slow, then fast, trying to find my rhythm. After a few minutes, Candi took complete charge, rising to her knees and rocking back and forth on the bed while flexing her extraordinary muscles until I came ... through. Resting against her, I breathed deeply ... then basked in my glow. This morning was all about me ... and I appreciated every glorious moment of it.
“Happy, D?”
“Happy,” I whispered, “Mile will be happy too. Problem solved.”
“I got it. This was all about Mile and not the least bit about you?”
I nodded. “Let’s just say you admirably accommodated the both of us,” I said, as a down pillow nailed me squarely in the face. “Thank you, Candice. Now, get dressed. Let’s go take care of problem number two.”
What about me? I tossed another pillow in his direction. “Excuse me, I’m your problem number two. Mile has been relegated to number three. You really need to take care of me! But, it can wait ... for now.”
That was scary ... Candi sounded just like Victoria. What is it with this ‘for now’ stuff? Does it mean they’re constantly unfulfilled or is there some business that needs replenished, repetitively? Admiring Candi gloriously traipsing bottomless to the bathroom, I deduced it could be a little of both.
Chapter 73
Joining marvelous Mile downstairs, the three of us took off down Habersham to West Bay Street, before dropping down to walk along River Street that meandered along the Savannah River. Restaurants, galleries and shops lined the entire length of the waterfront, many more than I remembered during my last trip here. A burgeoning robust economy was evident, driven by the charm of this historic city.
Circling back across West Bay St. we followed Abercorn St. to the Colonial Park Cemetery where we cut a diagonal through it before ending at the Cathedral of St. John The Baptist.
Caught up in the splendor of the church, Mile was speechless. “Beautiful ... Like home.”
“I’m glad you’re pleased, Mile,” I offered, “Would you like to go inside?”
“Much so ... OK?”
“Candi, if you please, lead the way. Today, you’re number one tour guide.”
I smiled. “Nope, D. Remember, I’m number two, and don’t you forget it.”
Pointing the ladies towards the entrance, “I’ll be right here.” I sat down on the cold, hard concrete bench and waited. There was absolutely no purpose in me touring with them, listening to lively Italian banter that made zero sense to me. Ten minutes later they emerged and in another ten we were back in the Inn. Gio was dressed, but not ready. I made the call. We would leave from here.
“We shower, we pack, we go,” I announced. Candi took the hint and followed me to the room with a question.
“Mile would like to stay here another day, baby. Is that possible?”
“It is ... There’s not too many things we can do with Gio, however. Too many stairs here in Savannah for all the places I’d like us to visit. I’ve reserved a three bedroom, oceanfront ground floor condo for us for the next couple of days. No stairs, just the beach, the sun, and since it’s after tourist season — no people.”
Sounds wonderful. “I’m for that, D. I’ll politely tell her no — hell no. I think she’ll understand.”
“Damn straight ... I would and I’m a slow learner.” I showered, while Candi broke the news to Mile and was packed before she returned. “Waiting on you precious...”
“I’m taking a bath. Join me, D?” I knew he wouldn’t, but I had to ask.
“Tonight or tomorrow. You missed your window, Candi. We could bathe in the ocean.”
“We could skinny dip. Do you remember our last night on Dale Hollow Lake?”
“I do. The question is, do you? We had many firsts that evening. Any particular one that stands out? The sunset dinner cruise, skinny dipping in the dark, bluff jumping buck naked and almost landing in a bass boat filled with two horny fishermen or making love to me in the water under a moonlit sky?”
“All of them. The last one most of all. Now get out or get in the tub with me.”
“I’m going. I’d best carry and pack Gio’s and Mile’s gear on their bikes.”
I had a delicious thought. “D,” I purred, “before you leave, bring me my toy.”
“Copy that,” I grinned. “I love it when a woman takes matters into her own hands.”
“Among other things, baby. Remember this morning?”
I walked down the stairs somberly thinking I should have stayed and drove the train. She had a problem, yet, she took care of it —I like that in her, along with the other things she referred to that continually draw me in. Sure she’s flawed, who isn’t? Candi conveys an innocence that’s refreshing and captivating. She’s book smart in so many areas while her street smarts are still developing. She, like me, is a work in progress. We were two masterpieces in the making that were bound, more times than not, to compete, as well as, collide.
Stopping by the front desk on the way to Gio’s room, I stood speechless before studious Anna, our morning innkeeper. She patiently offered a blank stare to match mine. “I’m sorry Anna, I forgot why I’m here.”
“Oh, that happens to me all the time,” offered Anna encouragingly. “What room are you in, maybe that will help?”
“I don’t know that either. I can describe it for you. It has a four poster bed and a cast iron slipper tub filled with water and a beautiful naked woman.”
Anna blushed. “You’re in room 301, under Parker.”
“I hope so ... I think I came by to check out. We have two rooms.”
“Are you OK, sir?”
“I am. Thanks. Just too much on my mind.”
“I bet it’s that beautiful lady you left in the tub that has you discombobulated.”
I nodded, walking away as I tried to remember the last time I'd heard that word.
“You’re probably right. She does that to me all the time here lately.”
Chapter 74
Gio was hobbling down the hallway away from me when I reached their room. Mile, by all indications, was still in process. “Gio, I’m right behind you. Let me get the door.” I helped him negotiate the three outside steps and watched him mount his trike. It was hilarious. He had to approach the bike from the right, back into it, stand on the footboards and swing his right leg the opposite direction, before settling down on the seat.
Gio huffing, “Doc say cast off Friday. Happy ... Happy ... Change to strap on.”
I choked — I could just see him in a strap on. Then I could call him Two Dong Long. “Yep, I got it,” I smirked. “You can take it off to shower or do Mile without her riding sidesaddle.”
“Si”
“It’s a good time to talk since the girls aren’t here. Ignore my texting. It’s questions I need answers to. I’m sending them to you one at a time. So ignore the text alerts you hear going off in your pants right now.”
“First, as I told you, I’m coming to the party. Candi doesn’t know it. Let’s keep it that way. Second, I need you to go to the hotel on Friday and personally ask, bribe, forcefully persuade the General Manager to turn off the fire alarm system Saturday night at precisely 8 PM for twenty minutes. The hotel will not be in danger. Tell him it’s to set up a prop that’s part of our skit for the ball. I don’t want the carbon monoxide alarms going off. I plan to make a grand entrance, one that will make you proud. Third, I need you to email me a copy of the video Candi made of Joseph. I mentioned it, but she didn’t seem keen on shar
ing it. Fourth, how many people will be at your table? Joseph, Candi’s mom? How many more? Will they have muscle? Will they be armed? Don’t worry; you don’t have to remember all this. That’s what the texts are for. Answer them when you can. I know this is short notice, but I need all this by noon Saturday. Friday, late, would be even better.”
“You ask lot ... I get ... I send. You tell me plan?” asked a considerably perplexed Giovanni.
“When it comes together, pal, you’ll be the first to know, I promise.”
Mile appeared on the stairs, toting one bag over each shoulder, followed by Candi with my day bag and her backpack.
Standing in the doorway, D, lost in conversation with Gio, seemed oblivious to us. I huffed, “Don’t just stand there like a big stiff prick. Come carry Mile’s bags!”
Giovanni shifted his gaze towards me. I glared at him in return. “Gio, I don’t resemble that remark. I think Candi is talking specifically to you, stud muffin.”
Standing up on the boards of the trike, “Cuz, leg no good … no help.”
“Shut up, Giovanni, I’m not talking to you.” I was trying my best to keep from laughing. “Let me rephrase that. I’m talking to the stiff little prick beside you. How’s that?”
“Oh, why didn’t you say that to begin with?” I laughed all the way to the steps. “Prickly this morning are we, Candice?” I asked, snatching all the bags in both hands. “BOA let you down?”
“Needs batteries — fresh batteries — but, mostly it needed you.” I winked.
“Copy that. If you have the time — I have the chaps and the thong and the ride...”
There’s that look. He’s serious! “Not now!” My skin tingled. “Maybe later, baby.” I squirmed ... He saw it. Good!
I stowed and strapped our gear, fantasizing about our last ride in chaps and thongs along the Beartooth Highway in Montana. Thrilling, as I remember it, would be an understatement.