by L. B. Dunbar
It seemed like hours passed before she came into the living room. I had the lights off and the television on low as I battled GalehautIII. I was almost breaking a sweat with the way I worked the controller. I was so angry that Lila hadn’t been home all afternoon. I was even more upset that she seemed to be ignoring me.
“I didn’t realize you were still here,” Lila said, as she stood at the end of the couch.
“Where else would I be? This is my home,” I said bitterly not returning her gaze. I continued to play until I was killed in the line of fire, and then I exited the game. I turned to fully look at Lila. She had on a man’s button down shirt and held a blanket in front of her. Bare legs were exposed below.
“Mind if I sit a bit,” she asked shyly.
My mouth went dry and I swallowed hard. I didn’t think Lila had dressed that way on purpose, but I don’t think Lila knew how sexy she looked. I couldn’t control the instant hard-on that sprang forward in my jeans. Her long hair was still damp and she looked relaxed. She had a book in her hand, also. I sensed that she was content to read while I played, which she had often done in the past.
I motioned for her to take a seat and she curled into the corner. She brought her knees up and pulled the blanket over her legs. The covering cut off my view, but it was too late. I knew what was under there. Pure toned legs huddled under that cotton blanket and I was suddenly jealous.
“What did you do today?” I tried to remain calm, but my voice shook a bit.
“Walked past some shop windows. Fleur made a Christmas list that’s a mile long and then we went to see the movie.”
I kept my eyes focused on the screen before me, so I wouldn’t think about her bare legs under the blanket. She didn’t ask me what I did during the day and I waited. Finally I offered.
“Want to know what I did today?”
Lila held the book open, but she hadn’t turned the page in several minutes and she continued to sit unnaturally still.
“I came home and waited for you all day.”
The tension rolled off of Lila. Her shoulders relaxed and she let out a breath.
“Really? I mean, really.”
“I thought we had plans today, so I came home after you ran off and…”
“I didn’t run off,” she snapped.
“Yes, you did,” I turned to face her, my hands on either side of her bent legs, holding the blanket down like a trap over her.
“You didn’t answer my texts?”
“We went to the movies,” she said quietly.
I noticed her breathing was growing shallow.
“You were ignoring me,” I stated the obvious. Her chest was rising and falling subtly, and I felt that pull toward her.
“I didn’t want to intrude,” she said, almost on a whisper.
“I was spending the day with you and Fleur. Seeing Guinie was a fluke.”
Lila’s eyes met mine and she closed them for a minute. I didn’t know what she was thinking, but I wasn’t letting her raise her shield like I’d seen her do.
“Did you and Guinie have a fight?” she asked.
“Lila, I really only want to say this once. And then I don’t want to talk about Guinie again. We were together once. Only once. And it won’t happen again. We aren’t meant to be together. You were right.”
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was low and she swallowed.
“Why?”
“Because I know you love her. It must hurt.”
“I…I don’t know that I’m capable of love, Lila. All I seem to do is destroy women, and myself.” She reached a shaky hand for me and pushed my longish bangs back from my forehead. It was surprisingly comforting.
“I don’t believe that,” she said. “I think you just have difficulty choosing someone safe.”
Her fingers continued through my hair and my muscles relaxed. It was soothing. It was motherly, which should have creeped me out, but didn’t. I don’t know what prompted me, but I laid my head down on her stomach. Her breathing was ragged, and I could hear her heart beat rapidly through the oxford shirt. She was holding her body still, but she continued to gently run her fingers through my hair. She was hesitant at first, almost as if she was petting me, but her fingers slipped into my longer locks and she massaged back and forth over my scalp.
I was relaxing into her stomach and my nose nuzzled against her. She was firm under there, and she had that sexy hip thing going on. She sucked in a breath when my nose drew a line back and forth across her belly. My mouth watered to get a taste of those hipbones just below her navel. She was dragging her fingers through my hair more intently, and I slid my face down her belly. She had a sweet fragrance about her, something flowery and something I wasn’t certain of at first. Instantly, I recognized that Lila smelled like sex.
My hand came up to remove the blanket from her legs and I heard her sigh. Her hand wrapped into my hair, tugging gently, and I took it as a sign to continue moving down her body. Her legs opened slightly and my nose dragged closer to my destination.
“You smell sexy, Lila.”
She sighed again and a choked sound followed. My eyes glanced up to discover hers were closed. Her head leaned back and her lips parted. I dragged my nose across her damp panties, inhaling her sweetness.
“You want me?” I breathed against her, knowing she was wet and ready for me under the cotton. I couldn’t believe it. Lila gave no hint that she was attracted me. She was well aware that I was continually turned on around her, but she gave me no indication that she could be attracted to me. Unless…
“We’re friends, right, Lila?” I said, a bit of curiosity in my voice.
She sighed again and I blew a breath onto her. Her arousal was heady, and I was intoxicated by her.
“We could be friends. Together. It would be a good distraction.” I kissed her over the cotton and I felt her sit upright. She looked drugged; her eyes glassy and confused.
“I can’t,” she said on a choke.
“What?” I softly groaned.
“I…I can’t do this with you.”
“Lila, I didn’t mean…”
She was pushing back into the corner of the couch, forcing me to sit upright. She grabbed the blanket off the floor to cover her, but then decided to stand.
“Lila, I…”
“I can’t compete with ghosts, Lansing.”
“Lila, it’s not like…”
“I know all about ghosts…and I can’t fight them whether dead…or alive,” Lila added, as she held the blanket before her legs like a shield and quickly turned to leave me stunned on the couch.
I was so close to giving in. When he said he had been waiting for me, I wanted him. I wanted him badly, but I couldn’t do it. I knew better. I cursed myself, over and over, as I worked myself to get the release that Lansing built up in me. I didn’t like to give myself relief, but sometimes I had to. I couldn’t even remember when the last time was that I had sex. It was after Josh, but before Fleur. A rebound rock star that I didn’t regret, but he hadn’t made me forget Josh like I had hoped.
I was hopeless at the moment. I was falling for the wrong kind of guy, again. I had planned to avoid Lansing, but he seemed to be around more and more. He often played guitar in his room, always keeping the door open. He had a doctor’s appointment with Elaine Corbin, and I was relieved to be able to spread my things across the coffee table in his living room while Fleur took a nap. I needed to study for my history of photography final. I could use the quiet, although the silence only made my mind wander back to the other night.
I was dripping with desire and I craved his touch. He hadn’t touched me, not really. It was only his nose and his breath, but I was ready for him. My head hit the table as I lost concentration again. I had to stop thinking of Lansing Lotte. He was in love with a woman he could never have. I was a woman he would never want. I had Fleur. He had his own child coming next spring.
What was his word? A distraction.
“You okay?”
&nb
sp; My head sprung up at the sound of his voice.
Had I fallen asleep? I felt a bit dazed.
Lansing was sitting behind me, his legs on either side of my body as I sat cross-legged on the floor. I hadn’t turned to look at him, I simply felt his presence surrounding me. Two hands covered my shoulders and began to rub. I tensed and Lansing kept working me.
“Relax,” he said soothingly, his warm breath caressed my neck.
I didn’t respond. Eventually, my body betrayed me again, as my back melted under his touch and my shoulders fell to his massaging fingers. My head lulled forward as Lansing worked his magic up my neck for several minutes. I might have moaned loudly.
“You like that?” he said, again in that soothing voice and I recalled his words the other night.
We were friends.
We could be a distraction.
I sat upright and shrugged a little to warn him off. I couldn’t give in to him. I didn’t want to be a distraction to Lansing Lotte. I still had secrets that would destroy our friendship.
His hands stilled and he spoke again.
“I have something for you.”
I thought he was flirting with me, like he used to do before I moved in.
“I bet you do,” I mumbled.
“Get your mind out of the gutter,” he laughed behind me.
I turned slowly to see a box sitting next to him. It was wrapped in an old-fashion manner with brown paper. I shifted between his open legs to get a better look at the package.
He handed it to me, and I looked up at his face confused.
“It’s a bit of an apology.”
“Why?”
“The other night…,”
“It’s fine,” I lied as I cut him off.
He paused for a moment, searching my face. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for and he finally said, “Open it.”
“I don’t think you really have to give me an apology gift. It feels like a bribe.”
“I am bribing you. To forgive me.” He smiled slowly and his dimples peeked out.
“Why?”
“Because we’re friends,” he paused, “And I don’t have many at the moment.”
That wasn’t true. He still had the band members, although I wasn’t sure they were keeping up with each other. I knew that Kaye Sirs, their manager called, but Lansing ignored him.
“Friends? Right,” I said a bit too bitterly, but I caught a look on his face. It appeared best not to deny him the gift. I hastily unwrapped the box, balancing it awkwardly between his legs.
“It’s a camera?”
I glanced up into blue eyes that suddenly looked concerned.
“You still need a new one, right?”
“Yes, but it’s a Nikon D 4.”
“Isn’t that the one you wanted?” His voice was nervous. Suddenly I was in his lap. I don’t know what prompted me, other than my excitement.
He was giving me a new camera. A new camera. I wouldn’t have to borrow others anymore and do all that fiddling with erasing memory off them.
“Whoa. If I had known you would get so excited about unwrapping something, I could think of a few other things to wrap up for you.”
I didn’t want to play along. I was too excited about the gift. I had only one corner of the brown paper off the package when I recognized the logo. I ripped the remaining paper with force. I stared at the generous gift for a moment before setting it to the side. I was straddling his thighs, pushing him back into the couch with my arms wrapped around his neck. My cheek rested against his ear.
“Why?” I said softly.
“I said, I’m sorry.”
I squeezed him tightly.
“I shouldn’t do it, but apology accepted.” I was still holding onto him.
He gently pushed me back as I slipped forward on his lap with the resisting force. Our centers met. He was hard in his jeans, and instantly I was wet and warm in my thin leggings.
“You shouldn’t accept my apology?” he asked confused, as he shifted and it only brushed him against me. My body reacted and I clenched in response. He let out a stifled, “umpf.”
“I do accept your apology. I shouldn’t accept the gift.”
“Why not?” he questioned, holding himself very still under me. I needed to get off him. I was sitting in the most compromising of positions and I could feel the full length of him under me.
“It’s too much. You’ve already done so much for me,” I said quietly, my voice matching my shaking legs. I was trying to hold perfectly still, as well.
“But thank you,” I whispered. It was the nicest thing anyone had done for me for a long time.
His hands slipped to my hips, like they had when we danced in the kitchen. His fingers squeezed tenderly, but it felt possessive. He was holding me still, then he adjusted his own hips and it drove him into me. The core of my pleasure spot pressed into him. I groaned with almost a snort. It caught me off guard, despite our position and I let my head fall back a bit in a second of ecstasy. I snapped it forward, opening my eyes to meet a mischievous twinkle of blue that froze me. He was firm and long under me. I couldn’t help myself; I squeezed my thighs forcing myself against him. He shifted under me. My body was a constant traitor. I responded by grinding against him. My hands slid from his neck to grip his shoulders. We were completely silent, but our eyes were locked as we pressed into one another. I rocked into him as he applied further pressure on my hipbones. My body wanted him, while my heart didn’t want to give in.
“Lila?” he said softly, and I pressed against him one more time. I was about to close my eyes with the overwhelming pleasure of grinding against him when something in my peripheral vision distracted me. Fleur was standing at the end of the couch.
I didn’t want to curse a child, but I was completely frustrated when Fleur appeared at the end of the couch. What did she see exactly, though? We weren’t kissing. We were grinding. And I prayed that Fleur didn’t understand what that was, and that she wouldn’t question me if she did. Lila jumped off of me so quickly she almost fell into the table behind her, which was covered with her school books. I reached to right her and she was suddenly plastered against me again as we stood chest to chest. She patted me like she was placating a child suddenly and wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“Fleur, honey, want a snack?” She brushed past me, smoothing down her leggings, which were skintight and crinkled. They were so thin I could feel everything through them, almost. It wasn’t enough. I didn’t want almost with Lila, I wanted to feel it all.
I heard Lila rustling around in the kitchen, mumbling things to Fleur, and I fell back down on the couch. I ran my hands through my hair, holding them in place as my head rested on the back of the couch. I needed to calm down. I tried to think of anything that might lessen the pain that was going to result from feeling Lila on my lap. Of course, trying to rid my mind only kept me solid. I realized we hadn’t even kissed. I suddenly imagined if we did, it would melt metal and ignite fire. I wanted her more than I wanted anyone, even Guinie.
I sat forward to cover myself as I heard Fleur’s sweet voice round out of the kitchen and head toward me. As I balanced my elbows on my knees, I glanced up at Lila’s computer which showed a collage of images with numbers underneath. My eyes narrowed as I tried to get a better look.
Image_1. A.K. on bike. Looking forward
Image_2. A.K. on bike. Looking to side.
Image_3. A.K. on bike. Looking over shoulder.
Image_4. A.K. on bike. Looking back at camera.
Image_5. A.K. on bike. Slightly ahead.
Marked in Lila’s private files, the proofs were photographs of Arturo King. He was hunched over my bike, racing through the streets of New York City. Next, he was looking to the left as if ahead of the person beside him. Another showed him glancing over his shoulder as if someone was chasing him. In one, he looked directly at the camera, the photographer, but the visor on his helmet shielded his face. Knowing Arturo, he might have been laughing at the chase
because the final image was him racing ahead.
I stared in disbelief. I hadn’t seen the images on her screen before.
We already knew that a motorcycle clipped the back of the bike. The investigation proved the bike must have flipped to its side after Arturo lost control. At some point, the detective believed the bike must have hit Arturo and dragged his body. It was undetermined were the blood came from, which part of Arturo, as there was no body, but there was blood and lots of it. The red stream came to a stop at one point, feet away from the bike that, without seeing any further images, was unrecognizably smashed into the cement wall.
A shaky finger pointed forward and hit the scroll button. A new set of images rolled onto the screen and my entire body began to shake with horror.
There were pictures of the wreckage and the blood. Only one thing was definitely missing suddenly from the snapshots. Arturo King.
There was a sudden tension in the room as I re-entered with a soda in my hand. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
“Lansing, do you wan…”
I immediately noticed Lansing’s hunched position over the coffee table, staring at my computer. Images were pulled up. As I approached the back of the couch, I saw what he was looking at. Before him were the horrific after shots taken of the accident of Arturo King. Lansing seemed entranced by what flashed in front of him. He didn’t seem to notice that Fleur had curled up next to him on the couch and had her little hand on his back.
“Fleur, go to our room,” I said, sounding authoritative and mother-like.
“I just got up,” she whined.
I noticed Lansing’s hand shaking as he reached upward to push back some of his hair. I could almost feel the heat of anger coming off of him.
“Fleur. Now,” I said, with a touch of fear in my voice. She looked at me quickly over her shoulder, then ran to our room.
In my heart, I knew I had only seconds to explain.
“It isn’t what you think.”
“What I think?” Lansing said, his voice unrecognizable to me. “You have no idea what I think.”
He still hadn’t turned to look at me. His body language completely opposite from what it had been, only moments ago, on that very couch. He was curled forward, his back to me, aggressively posed over my computer. The only way to break his spell was to come around the couch and close the laptop. As I cornered the couch and reached for the top of the screen, his hand shot up faster than anything I’d ever seen and grabbed my wrist. Hard.