by Lise Horton
“As I was saying, tomorrow I’m busy, Thursday evening he said he was visiting his sister and Friday I have student meetings for who knows how long. All of us in the group are so busy it’s nearly impossible to find a night where we can all get together. I can’t cancel after all the trouble everyone goes to.”
“Sad. Very sad.”
“Don’t be shallow. There’s more to life than sex. We’ll have a lofty discussion of one of literature’s most timeless novels and have some tasty treats.”
“No, you’ll get drunk and talk trash.”
“That would be another interpretation.” Then she waved at Alice and headed off for her last class.
* * *
“I hear there’s a new sheriff in town.” Ellen Dugan poured herself a glass of pinot noir and dropped down onto the sofa next to her.
“Ellen, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Serafina, what class does Ellen teach?” Caroline Edwards sat opposite them, with her single malt scotch.
“The Literary Tradition of the American West.”
“Exactly. Wild West, sheriff?” She shrugged and Ellen and Caro both rolled their eyes. “The tall, handsome sheriff rides into town to rescue the virtuous schoolmarm? You, Nick? My God, for a genius you can be remarkably obtuse.” They laughed at her and she joined in.
“Shouldn’t we be talking about our book?” Her attempt to steer the conversation off her sex life and into safer waters proved fruitless.
“Those tired old farts? Come on. We all know how it comes out. She’ll still be calling him Mr. Darcy when he busts her maidenhead on their wedding night.” Ellen swallowed some more wine. “I’d rather talk about hot sex with a studly Italian and live vicariously.”
“I’m not going to share my sex life with you!”
“It’s only fair. After all the wastes of testosterone you’ve dated in the past, we’d begun to despair. Now that you’ve hit the jackpot, man-wise, we deserve at least the highlights.” Leslie Hamilton urged her on with a Groucho eyebrow wiggle.
“All I’m going to say is—” she paused for dramatic effect and all three women leaned forward with avaricious expressions, “—wow.”
Caro raised her glass. “Here’s to Serafina Luca, celibate no more. I’m so proud of you! About time you took your hoo-ha out of mothballs and found a man to put a smile on your face.”
“Let’s it hear it for Serafina. It’s great to see you smiling.” Leslie was the sweetest of the bunch and she patted Serafina’s arm softly while she smiled. “Most importantly, does he make you happy?”
“He does make me happy. He makes me laugh and I feel perfectly comfortable with him.” She touched her napkin to her eyes as the women waited quietly.
“And?” Caro prompted.
She looked at them, surprised to find her eyes filling. “He makes me feel beautiful. Desirable.”
“Oh, honey.” Caro’s smile was one of genuine compassion for her. Despite her acerbic bent, the woman was a solid friend when it mattered most. “You are an incredibly beautiful woman and no doubt so desirable a man can’t help falling to his knees in worship.”
“And hopefully he already has. It’s a rare man who knows his way around a gal’s hoo-ha these days.” Ellen’s comment had them all chuckling again.
* * *
“So how are things with Nick?”
She and Caro were enjoying one last drink as the gathering wound down. “He’s—well, he’s more than fine.” She had already discovered the merest thought of him brought a smile to her face.
“Sounds like things are moving quickly. Do you feel better now that you’ve found a good man to erase the memories of Stan and Patrick? I know how much they hurt you.”
She nodded. “I do, except, well, it’s getting a bit intense.”
“In what way?”
“It’s not the sex. Though that’s rather eye-opening. It’s that he seems to be very serious about us.”
“Why is that not a good thing? You like him, don’t you? You’ve been smiling like a well-satisfied woman for days now.”
“I do like him.”
“I sense a ‘but.’”
“For one thing it’s only been a little more than a week, but it’s more than that. He’s very domineering. It’s annoying that he doesn’t think I’m capable of taking care of myself. When we had our argument with Elizabeth, I asked him if he was angry because she’d insulted his job and he told me he was mad at her for insulting me. And that I’d better get used to him defending me.”
“What, exactly, is wrong with a big strong man taking your side?”
“I’m not a child and I can take care of myself.” The testiness the subject always roused was clear in her tone.
“This is what people who care about one another do. They take care of each other. Has he given you any indication he doesn’t trust you to take care of yourself?”
“I certainly could have handled Elizabeth without him making her even angrier. Then he insisted on giving me money for a cab the other night. I told him I have plenty of money—”
Caroline’s laughter halted her statement and she stared peevishly at her friend. “Good lord, Serafina, what a hideous affront! He tried to pay for your cab? The swine.” She shook her head.
“Women don’t need men to pay for them in this day and age and I can’t see you standing for it either.”
“Well, you’re wrong there, as a matter of fact. I am as independent as the next woman, and I’ll wipe the floor with any man who says I’m not as valuable, intelligent or worthy of respect as any man. I can hold a door open for a man, but civilization won’t come to an end if I allow one to hold a door for me. You can have the best of both worlds, you know.”
“You don’t understand. I’ve fought so hard to be treated with respect. Take Nick’s sister Gia. She never backs down. She doesn’t let anyone tell her what to do. In fact I’m ashamed of all the times I’ve compromised for the sake of expedience. I don’t want to do it with Nick.”
“There is a difference between the world at large and your romantic partner.”
“I don’t see why.”
“Because with a partner you are supposed to communicate, share and yes, compromise. Why can’t you compromise with him? Let him feel protective. Let him open a door, pull out a chair or pay for a cab if it makes him feel better. That is the point, after all. To make your partner feel good. In bed or out. Allow him to have his moments of generosity and giving.”
“Does Kurt ever go over the top? He’s strong and athletic and has that same air Nick does when it comes to women. Like a hulking guard dog.”
“Ah, Kurt. Well, there’s a bit of a difference there, Serafina.” The woman’s smile was purely feline and her eyes sparkled. The couple had only been dating for a year and it wasn’t common knowledge around campus, but Caroline was deeply in love with the handsome professor. Then she frowned. “What are you squirming for? You’ve been twitching in that chair all night.”
“Oh, well.” She blushed furiously. “Nick is kind of, um, kinky.”
“Don’t tease. Now you absolutely have to spit it out.”
“He spanked me last night.” The words tumbled out but when she looked up, Caroline was smiling.
“Don’t laugh at me!”
“I would be the last one to laugh at you. Serafina, Kurt and I also prefer our sex kinky. He and I are in a dominant and submissive sexual relationship. He is my dominant partner. I am submissive to him. But only in the bedroom. We don’t live it twenty-four-seven. My point being, I am not submissive in any way, shape or form beyond the bedroom. Kurt doesn’t control me, run my life or tell me what do to. We live perfectly equal lives. Now, you clearly enjoy Nick physically, even though he is quite dominant sexually, yet you are very annoyed, uncomfortable even, when he behaves in a way you perceive to be dominant outside the bedroom. My question for you is, is he being himself, behaving in a dominant way, or is he being domineering and trying to control yo
u?”
“I don’t like to be considered incapable.”
“But is that what he’s doing? While Kurt wouldn’t get away for a minute with telling me how to conduct my life, he does give me advice. And he is a dominant man in all respects, so his advice may be delivered in a dominant fashion. It doesn’t mean, however, that he doesn’t trust me or my decisions. That is the point. Dominant does not mean domineering. Thank the Goddess.” She held up her wine glass in a toasting gesture and smiled.
“I see your point.”
“But do you concede my point?”
“I don’t know.”
“Trust me. If you simply explain yourself to Nick I’m sure it will clear the air.”
“I still won’t like it.”
“Then the question will be whether you like him enough to compromise. To give him some slack when he gets a tad macho and remind him of it gently, and to reward him for the fact that he compromises when confronted with your tendency to pout.”
“I do not pout.”
“Yes, you do. Now let’s have a toast to the joys of the macho man.” They clicked their glasses and Caroline’s old smile was back. “And do not think for a moment that you will get away without telling me every little detail about your foray into the kinky world of spanking.”
“I liked it.”
“But of course you did. What girl in her right mind wouldn’t?”
After that, the evening deteriorated into a raucous excoriation of bad sex, the men responsible for bad sex, the necessity for women to be responsible for their own orgasms, and the delights of battery operated appliances. She was still laughing when they all went their separate ways.
* * *
She arrived home just before eleven, still smiling over her friends’ supportive words, and opened the door in time to hear the phone ringing. Expecting Nick, she dashed to grab it.
“Hello?”
The only sound from the other end was heavy breathing. She immediately dropped the receiver back in its cradle and frowned. When the phone rang again moments later, she waited until the answering machine picked up. It was Nick. She snatched up the phone, breathless with nerves.
“Nick!”
“In the flesh. Or at least I wish I was. How was book group?”
“Oh, well, we got to talking and didn’t get around to discussing the book.”
“Should I be afraid to ask what you were talking about?”
“I guess there’s no harm in telling you that you, and our sex life, were the primary topics of conversation.”
“Why am I not surprised? What is it about ladies getting together that it always ends up being about sex? So did this conversation get you all hot and bothered? It’s pretty late but if you need, we can take care of that right now. What are you wearing?”
* * *
She lay in bed later, smiling, sated with wine and comforted by a long, sexy chat with Nick, who’d teased, cajoled and threatened her with all the things he wanted to do. By the time they said good night she was hungry for the man, in the flesh. Hungry for everything he promised.
She felt as though she was living two lives. The staid professor who calmly discussed erotic literature with her students, and the wild hedonist who had no boundaries when it came to Nick. The sex, whether in person or telephonic, was blisteringly hot and only by dint of sheer willpower was she able to focus on anything else. Perhaps this was what it meant to be consumed by a man, as her heroines were. So that nothing else in life mattered except being in your lover’s arms and having him inside you. She’d never been so utterly overwhelmed by sensations and emotions and her much valued sense of self-control, her ordered life, seemed to have been replaced by a yearning physical hunger and increasingly impetuous actions.
She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the little mote of worry forming in the back of her frazzled mind. She pushed it away, but when she wasn’t concentrating, the stray thought would appear. She just wanted to enjoy the time with him, not worry about futures or commitments or the downside of romance. But he was aggressive and everything was happening so fast. Not just the lusty interludes, but all of his attention. She just couldn’t bring herself to believe it was more than sex. So what, exactly, was happening between her and Nick Stellato?
Chapter Nine
“You spanked her? Are you kidding me? Holy shit!”
“Calm down, Berto. I’m sorry I said anything.” He gave his brother a casual punch in the arm, then popped a beer. “Remind me to engage the brake on my mouth the next time you’re around.”
“Sorry, man, you know I wouldn’t say anything. Seriously, though, I can’t believe you told me at all, but it’s really hot.”
“It was, actually, and nobody was more surprised than me.”
“Really?”
“Come on, Berto, I’m not the playacting kind of guy.”
“You are according to Denise.”
“Playing doctor when you’re thirteen is not what I meant. And while we’re on the subject, let’s not ever be on the subject of Denise anymore? It’s ancient history and it gets The Professor upset.”
“Sure, sure. So get to the good parts. Whose idea was it?”
“Mine.”
“How’d you come up with it?”
“She’s had some crappy guys feeding her shit before. I just want her to relax with me, but it seems really hard for her to let go. I figured with what she teaches, it might be fun to get her on safer ground and see if she’s more comfortable. She’s got all these books of erotica in her apartment and this one had pictures. This stuff Gia told me to read can be pretty cool. This guy Henry Miller, he was from Brooklyn. And he wasn’t that good-looking, but he was getting lots of nookie. From two women, no less.”
“Man. You have all the luck.”
“You should try out some of this erotica stuff on your ladies. Trust me when I say you will get very lucky.” He looked at his brother and pointed a finger. “If you promise not to give me shit, I’ll tell you what we’ve been doing.”
“Scout’s honor, dude. Talk to me.”
“You were never a scout, Berto.”
“Technicality.”
“We text sexy quotes to each other. Seriously. I like that she’s thinking of me even when we’re not together.”
“Quotes like what? ‘How do I love thee’ stuff?”
“Not even close. Here, why don’t you take Tropic of Cancer?” He tossed his brother the book. “You’ll see what I mean. I finished with it and the guy’s got a ton of other books.”
“Henry Miller, huh?”
“His books were banned for years.”
“That dirty, huh?”
“You bet.”
“Gee, maybe I should get myself a library card if dirty books can get you such a gorgeous lady.”
“Come on, you know me. It’s not about how gorgeous she is, though of course she’s the total package. And it’s not just sex either, you know? She’s pretty amazing. She’s really funny, and she’s smart about everything, except sports. She’s got a very interesting background too It’s sad, though. She’s all alone. No family at all.”
Berto gave him a look. “Dude! Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”
“I’m not that bad.”
“Way bad.”
“I like her. A lot.”
“You’ve been dating her for what, two weeks? And already you’re reading books and sexting, and getting all gooey over her. I think we need to do a metrosexual intervention here.”
“Cut the crap, Berto. I know you better than anyone and you aren’t the goombah you pretend to be.”
His brother focused his attention on the last slice of pepperoni pizza and a fresh brew, looking thoughtful. “So things are getting serious?”
He paused for a moment. “I’m having a great time. But I don’t know about her.”
“How come?”
“I piss her off sometimes.”
“You piss everybody off.”
“No, she just has this problem with me being protective, or even just helping out. She has this chip on her shoulder and she gets ticked off because she thinks I’m treating her like a child, but sometimes she acts like one.”
“How old is she?”
“Twenty-four.”
“So she’s entitled, maybe. Why don’t you cut her some slack, man?”
“I do. Sure, it gets old when she gives me that pout and gets all testy, but I get it. I’m sure she took shit all the time for being younger than everyone else in college. But I’m only trying to take care of her. Protect her. I’m not trying to run her life.”
“Why don’t you just say so?”
“We haven’t actually talked about it. We just dance around it.”
“Too busy spanking her, huh?”
“Berto, I swear, if you go spouting off about this, I’ll beat the crap out of you.”
Berto just smiled. “Don’t look now, but you’re getting all fierce and macho, bro. I think you’re already serious about the lady.”
“Damn. Yeah, I am.”
“Then take a break from the monkey sex and lay it out for her.”
“Good idea.”
“I know.”
“Wiseass.”
“I know.”
Chapter Ten
Thursday morning arrived, her most hectic day, and she had back-to-back classes. While she was with Nick she never thought about the mystery stalker she’d dubbed the shadow man. For several days there hadn’t been any further sightings of anyone prowling around outside her building at night. The heavy-breathing phone calls had ceased, so that source of tension had waned as well. Her workload continued to be overwhelming as she adapted to the Russian lit class, but at least she had gotten sufficiently up to speed to grade papers and looked forward to handing them back and having a chat with those students whose offerings left a lot to be desired.
She’d tried to distract herself from the grind of the day and composed a text to Nick in their naughty game channeling Anaïs and Henry.