The Baby Shower

by Tasha Blue et al.

  I hear a sigh. It’s coming from me but it sounds like a lovesick damsel in a movie. This isn’t real, it can’t be. But my arms are around his neck and I can feel the rise of his hardening penis.

  I pull away.

  “Adam, I really have to go.”

  I’m racing towards the stairwell now and take the stairs two at a time. What the hell was I thinking? I wasn’t thinking. I was letting a fantasy I’ve had for a long time take over. It won’t happen again.

  In my office, I fumble around and clear up my desk. I sit waiting for the computer to shut down and stare at the door, half expecting Adam to walk in. I’m so glad Amy has left for home. Everyone has. I believe it’s just Adam and me here. If something more than a kiss had taken place, no one would have to have known. It could have been our secret.

  But I had lived a life of secrets. The first was falling for the white boy, Drew, and then having to leave our racist, small town so we could be together. We married in secret so neither of our families could come and put a stop to it. The biggest secret of all was how mentally abusive Drew had been these past few years, his unemployment, the drinking, the drugs. And now there was this. I wanted Adam. I wanted him badly, but I had to resist.

  Out on the street, the traffic doesn’t stop the confusion in my head and I walk rather than take the bus. I’m hoping it will help me calm down before I get home. I walk for several blocks before fatigue gets to me. I never sleep so well these days. I need to get myself home; walking is doing nothing to clear my head. I see a bus and run for it after walking for five or six blocks. My head is a thick fog of confusion and I almost forget to pay. All I’ve done is make myself late home and Drew is bound to complain.

  At my door I hear music coming loudly from within. It sounds to me like Drew is having a party. The last thing I need is an apartment full of Drew’s loser friends. The place is small enough with just the two of us. He has three drinking buddies. Please don’t let them be here tonight of all nights. I hate all of them, but one in particular brings me down.

  Tiger. He’s the worst. He’s the one who discourages Drew from even looking for work. Tells him that’s what I’m here for. But as soon as I smell the weed, I know Tiger is there.

  “You’re late,” Drew slurs as I poke my head around the living room door.

  “Work,” I tell him and look at Tiger’s big, dirty sneakers up on my coffee table. Drew is fanning smoke clouds away like I don’t know what’s going on.

  “Work, huh?” says Drew. “What about dinner?”

  “You remember where the kitchen is, right?” I make my way to the bedroom.

  “Woo!” Tiger shakes his head. “Looks like she finally got you whipped.”

  Drew shoots a foul look my way but I don’t back down. There’s no way I’m cooking for him and that waste of space Tiger now.

  In my room I hear the music turn up even louder. The neighbors are bound to complain and just as I think it, I hear banging from Mrs. Spirewski’s apartment downstairs. Drew and Tiger yell and start laughing and I curl up in a little ball on my own in the bedroom. I start to think about Adam.

  I must have fallen asleep because a very rough and a very drunk, Drew is stabbing his finger into my back.

  “What is it?” I roll over. Drew is leaning onto his knuckles on the bed. His eyes are bloodshot and glaring at me in the dimness of the bedroom.

  “Don’t you ever, ever talk to me like that again in front of my friends.” He spits the words and I’m surrounded by a haze of alcohol and sweat.

  “I’m sorry, Drew, I didn’t mean to−” I go to pull myself off the bed but Drew pulls me onto my back by my hair and leans in close.

  “Didn’t mean to? Is it so hard for you to be nice once in a while?” he shouts loudly and I realize the music is off. Tiger must have gone. I have no idea what time it is.

  “Drew, you’re hurting me. Let me get up and I’ll cook us some food.” I’m holding his hand trying to pry it off my hair, but he leaps on top of me, straddling me, pinning me down.

  “Oh, so now you want to be nice, huh?”

  “I can’t breathe, you’re too heavy.”

  Now his whole body is on top of me. Drew grabs my throat and starts pressing in hard. I start to choke and can’t speak. I struggle to shift him but Drew is a big guy. Heavy and angry.

  “You listen to me,” he says through gritted teeth. “The next time you disrespect me in front of my friends again, I’ll...”

  I close my eyes just as I see his fist hovering inches from my face. I get the message loud and clear and Drew hitting me is what I’ve been expecting. But he doesn’t strike. I know his violence will escalate one day. With every angry word he’s given me, every filthy look and disgusting remark he can think of to belittle me, I know that a day will come when he will hit me. Is today that day?

  His breathing is deep and fast. All of a sudden he rolls away from me and staggers out of the door. I’m frozen to the spot. I wish I knew what he’s planning. Will he leave the apartment? Storming out is one thing he usually does and I listen for the door opening. Nothing. Maybe he’ll spend the rest of the evening tormenting me and making me feel like I’m losing my mind.

  I get up slowly. Drew is in the living room. I have to pass him to get to the kitchen. Under my breath I say the words, “What would you like to eat?” and Drew leaps from the old armchair in the corner.

  “What did you say to me?” I thought he was calming down but in the bright light of the living room I can see how wild his eyes have become. Again, he has grabbed me by the front of my blouse. This time he pulls so hard I think it will rip. It unravels from the back of my skirt as Drew practically has me off my feet.

  “You’re hurting me.” Soft, pathetic words but what else can I say? I need to get out of this place. I don’t know what’s coming next.

  The next thing I know, he has slammed me onto the floor and up against the television. It topples over but the sound and vision still continue.

  “Get out!” His voice is like a volcano erupting from a boiling inferno inside him. “Get out before I kill you.” He’s not looking at me. “And don’t come back.”

  I scramble to my feet and race out of the living room. My shoes are in the bedroom but luckily my purse is by the front door. I grab it and run. I run for several blocks until I realize the cold of the sidewalk on my feet. My hose are probably ripped and I might even be bleeding. As my head begins to clear I notice the looks I’m getting. I try to walk calmly, wiping tears from my face and trying to control my breathing. Every now and again I look over my shoulder.

  Get out, Drew said. But where do I go? Not back home to mama. My family made it very clear I could never return there. Besides, I don’t have enough money to get me back to Borderton. The only person I know on a remotely friendly basis in New York is Amy from the office. Then it occurs to me I have no idea where she lives. I have her number, but I’m too ashamed to show up at her place like this. I’d never hear the end of it. Knowing Amy, she’ll want to call the police and that’s the last thing I want. It’d make Drew even more angry.

  Then a name and a place come to mind. Adam Wainwright. The Waldorf Hotel. He told me he was staying there to be away from his wife, Sherry.

  Can I really do that? Go to Adam?

  Before I can even begin to reason this one out, I lift my hand in the air and hail the next taxi that comes my way.

  “Where to miss?”

  “The Waldorf. Manhattan.”

  The doorman looks me up and down like I don’t know what. He sees my stockinged feet but pulls the door open for me anyway.

  “Ma’am,” he says as he tips his fingers to his cap. I can feel his eyes on me as I walk to reception.

  “May I help you?” The girl on the desk is sweet. A mix between a young Dakota Fanning and a grown up Scarlett Johansen, if that’s even possible. She isn’t rude and she doesn’t look at me as if I’m crazy. Maybe she didn’t notice I wasn’t wearing any shoes.

 
“I wonder if you could ring up to Adam Wainwright’s room. Tell him Macey Green Hardcastle is here?”

  “No problem.”

  She dials a few digits and Adam answers almost straight away.

  “He’ll be right down. Would you like to take a seat?” She gestures to a pair of sofas, next to a fireplace that are facing each other over a glass coffee table. I look over at them, nod, and do as I’m told. I sit on the edge of the sofa with my hands in my lap trying to blend in and become unnoticeable. But the receptionist is looking at me. I think she has noticed the lack of shoes and, damn, my blouse is still hanging out of my skirt. I ignore it. I don’t want to draw any more attention to myself.

  On the coffee table are a few magazines. I spot Sherry Lancaster, Adam’s celebrity wife straight away. The article is about the show she presents and how fame affects her life. I desperately want to read it to see if it’s true what Adam said, that the two of them are all but divorced. Then he appears.

  “Macey! Macey, my God what happened?”

  I stand and start smoothing my clothes down. “I had nowhere else to go.” As soon as I say that the tears well in my eyes.

  “Come on. Come with me,” he says. As I pass the reception desk my lip is quivering. I have to contain my emotion until I’m out of the lobby. I can’t cause a scene and have Adam’s reputation ruined in any way.

  As we stand at the elevator, Adam’s hand comes to my back. I tense up. I am bruised, but not in a lot of pain. The doors open and Adam holds out a hand for me to enter. He presses a button and the elevator takes us all the way up to the seventh floor.

  “This way, Macey,” he says. “I-I’m sorry.”

  “What are you sorry for?”

  “Whatever this is.” He holds out his hands and signals at the way I look. “Whatever happened to you tonight.”

  At his door, he holds it open for me. I can feel his eyes analyzing me, looking me up and down. His room is warm and welcoming. It’s large with deep windows that look onto a busy Manhattan evening. The drapes are still open. The sidelight is on next to the bed and it looks like he was lying on it, watching television and having a drink.

  “Sit. Can I get you anything? You need a drink?” He fusses over me and sits me down on the couch next to one of the windows. It is slightly open and causes me to shiver. “You’re cold. Let me get you one of what I’m having. A whiskey.”

  He hands me the glass and I take it with shaking hands. I’ve managed to contain my crying to just a few light sniffs and trickle of tears. I sip the whiskey. It burns my throat, but it’s needed. I sip some more before turning to Adam beside me.

  “Adam I’m so sorry to show up like this. I really had nowhere else to go and I remembered you were here, and I know this doesn’t look good, but I was desperate and I...”

  “It’s okay,” he says. “I’m glad that in a city full of people I’m the one you chose.” He puts his hand on my lap.

  I close my eyes, sigh deeply and say, “It’s funny how you never know how alone you are until something like this happens.”

  “Something like this? I take it you and your husband had some kind of disagreement.”

  “You could say that.”

  “Macey, did he hit you?”

  I whip around, maybe too quickly to plead Drew’s cause. “No. No, Drew would never do that.”

  “You sure?” Adam is looking at me so closely, taking in every inch of me, scrutinizing me, and I feel self-conscious. I get up and start pacing. I sip the last of the whiskey and it burns.

  “It’s not even like that, Adam. Drew has a bad temper is all. We fell out and I didn’t want to be around him. I needed to get out.”

  “So when you going back?”

  I turn around.

  “You’re not going back tonight?” he asks.

  “I... I can’t.”

  “Can’t?” Adam walks to where I stand, inches from the bed and takes the empty glass from my hand before placing it onto the side table. “He won’t let you back?”

  “Something like that. Look Adam I’ll sleep on the sofa or book a room. I didn’t want to burden you. I just needed a friendly face.”

  Adam cups my face in his hands and kisses me. I don’t stop him. I want the comfort. I want Adam—but I shouldn’t.

  “Wait, Adam. That’s not why I’m here.”

  “I know. Look Macey I’d love for you to stay. I’ll take the sofa. You take a bath, shower, anything. Have you eaten? I haven’t. Join me for dinner.”

  “Only if it’s room service. I can’t face going down to the restaurant.”

  I hear a message come through on my cell as Adam calls down for room service. I look at the message, expecting to see some kind of apology from Drew. Maybe he wants me to come back now, now that he’s cooled off. I look down at his message. Just one word appears: Bitch.

  Chapter Three

  Before the meal arrives, I plunge into the deep bath and try to forget the last few hours. Impossible. I sense Adam on the other side of the door and think about his offer of being with him as soon as he leaves his wife. It seems so easy for him to talk of divorce. For me, even if I asked Drew for a divorce now, he’d never agree. Even if I told him that our marriage was farcical. He’d cling onto me to the bitter end and then he’d blame me for dragging him out of Borderton when we both knew full well that leaving there and getting married was all his idea.

  I wanted that back then. I was so in love with Drew, he was all I knew and all I had.

  On the other side of that door was an alternative life. Was I brave enough to take it?

  I dry myself off and wrap a deep robe around me before re-entering the bedroom. Adam is on the sofa.

  “The food will be here soon. You hungry?”

  “Starving.” I sit on the edge of the bed and notice how Adams eyes linger over my leg as the robe slips off it. I pull it across again. “I have nothing with me,” I say.

  “If you need anything, I can ring down for you.”

  Adam walks over and sits next to me on the bed. He strokes my forehead with his fingers and runs his fingers to my chin and down my neck. My back arches and the front of my robe parts by a fraction of an inch. His eyes are on my chest. His fingers continue their journey down. Down to the soft mound of my left bosom. He pulls the robe away from my breast and my nipple is exposed, erect and dimpled by the water. He circles it with his fingers and keeps his eyes on it and not on me. My breathing is quickening and I lean a little closer. Adam pulls the robe off my shoulder and cups by breast. He squeezes and inhales deeply, edging closer to me so that our heads are almost touching.

  Still cupping my breast he kisses the side of my neck and pushes his tongue into my ear. So comforting, so needed, so sexy. He’s squeezing my nipple and pulls my robe off the other shoulder. Sitting back he looks at my bosoms then drops to his knees on the floor in front of me. His mouth clamps my other nipple. He begins to suck and pull, lick and nibble. I pull his head closer, fingers through his hair and part my legs so that his body can be closer to mine.

  I tilt back my head at the ecstasy of his tongue on my skin and screw my eyes tight shut. Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door.

  “Room service!”

  He whispers the words, “damn it,” under his breath and gets up to answer the door. I rearrange the bathrobe and walk to the small table and two chairs in one corner of the room. Adam tips the waitress.

  “That shouldn’t have happened,” I say, taking a seat and lifting the lids off the plates of food.

  “Yes it should’ve,” he says and we eat in silence.

  Adam and I have never experienced and awkward silence. In all the time I’ve known him and even when it was becoming clear that there was a sexual tension between us, we always found something to say. No matter how silly or meaningless—we never had moments like this.

  Every now and again we look up and find the other staring and it is hard to pull away from Adam’s gaze. Before I can take the final mouthful, Adam’s le
g extends beneath the table and makes contact with mine. I exhale and lift my eyes slowly to meet his. There is a half-smile on his lips. His lips are plump and tempting. The memory of feeling them on my nipples is causing a re-ignited arousal in me. It had never quite gone out, it was just lying in wait until the time of weakness between us would happen again.

  I can’t fool myself that it would never come to this. I imagined it in the taxi over here, but I thought that I could have some control. But with the heaving of Adam’s chest in front of me, I’m lost. I push my plate aside and pull the robe off my shoulders. Adam keeps his eyes on mine, but pulls his chair closer so that he is opposite me, only inches away.

  He leans forward and I think he is going to touch my breasts or kiss me and I arch forward but all he does is drag my chair out from under the table and pull it close so that our knees touch. He looks down at my breasts and a heat forms in my crotch. I want him so badly, I can think of nothing else. My life before I walked into that hotel room has disappeared.

  Slowly, Adam undoes the belt of my robe and lays each edge to my sides so that they hang off the armless chair towards the floor. The lower part of the robe is loose and I go to pull it aside. Adam stops me. Placing a hand on my hand and putting each of my hands to rest on the sides of the chair.

  He leans forward and gently pulls the robe completely open. I’m breathing heavily and moistening fast. He grabs each of my thighs and moves them wide apart, then looks down at my pussy as if it is the next course. Still he doesn’t touch me, just looks. He undoes the buttons of his shirt and removes it completely, tossing it onto the floor beside him. I look down at it and then at his wide chest.

  I’ve never seen his skin exposed to me before and I want to touch it, kiss it. Then he stands and undoes the top button of his fly. Lowering the zip, I see the protrusion of his erection through his underwear. He releases his hard cock and it lurches out as he lowers his pants and shuffles his feet out of them. Sitting again he removes his socks but my eyes are on his long, thick penis and the mounds of his balls as he leans on his elbows towards me again.