Interlude [Book 2]

by Auden Dar

  “Andrew? It’s over between the two of you.”

  “Yes, we broke up. But I don’t know. I’m still getting used to being single.” I pause. “Before you, he was all that I had ever known. And you don’t do relationships. What you want is temporary.” I exhale before revealing, “I’m surprised that a part of me wants to accept your offer … but you’re so … so complicated. Asshole.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said asshole.” My admission or rather my bold statement surprises him. He cocks his head and raises his eyebrow.

  I raise my forefinger. “Yes, really, an asshole! You left me after we made love. You left me alone in your own home with a note. A note. It would have been better if you had stayed and just said, ‘That was fun but please leave.’ Do you know how humiliated I was to find Miss Pendleton in the kitchen? I was practically naked looking for you. It hurt to think I was such a bad lay that you couldn’t deal with me in person. Believe it or not, that was more painful than leaving a man I had been engaged to.”

  “I’m so sorry, baby,” he says gently.

  “Don’t ‘baby’ me.” Damn him, I love it when he calls me ‘baby.’

  Julian pulls me to his side, and I am unable to resist being so close to him. Be strong, Lina! My head now rests on his shoulder. Oh damn it! My mind wanders to that special place when I inhale his scent. I’m unable to do anything, but revel in his warmth as he continues, “The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you. I had to go to London, and also freaked out.”

  I quickly pull away, placing distance between us. “What do you mean you had to go to London without so much as a goodbye kiss? And you freaked out? Do you understand what you did to me a few weeks ago? And the fact that I allowed this,” I say while pointing back and forth between us, “to happen again−”

  Julian interrupts, “Several times I might add.”

  When his eyes meet mine, I surprise myself by shedding a tear. With the pad of his thumb, he wipes it from my face. “Darling, I’m so sorry. There’s no excuse for my behavior. Going to London was unavoidable.” A moment of silence passes. “I also need you to know, I lost it. I had never, ever felt so close to anyone as I did that night with you. And−”

  “And?” I ask.

  “And I can’t forget this longing.” He presses his lips before continuing, “This thing between us is indescribable. It takes everything in me not to kiss you every single time you walk into a room. And when we’re not together, I can’t help but think only of you. I know you deserve so much more than what I’m offering.” He studies my face before suggesting, “One month. I want us to be lovers.” He closes his eyes briefly before admitting, “And you’ve also just left Andrew. Let’s just enjoy this month together.”

  Hold.

  Up.

  Should I feel insulted that all I am is an excursion?

  A booty call for a month.

  I feel deflated.

  What exactly do I want?

  You want to feel alive.

  Julian’s correct. I’ve just left a long-term relationship, the only relationship I’ve ever had. I left a good man who had wanted to be my forever but stopped desiring me. He forgot he had me. And the man before me is offering nothing more than an extended one-night stand. One–month stand. Nothing more. Don’t I deserve more? Do I want more? Do I want to jump into another one so quickly?

  Interrupting my debating thoughts, he proceeds, unaware of my internal battle. “If you decide at any time you want to end our arrangement, I’ll respect that. Think of this as a romantic interlude.”

  “And what about your girlfriends?”

  Oh my God. I’m really considering this. The woman who waited years to lose her virginity to her high school sweetheart might become Julian Caine’s booty call.

  Booty. Call.

  “I’ve told you before, I don’t have girlfriends.”

  “Shira?” The thought of the bitch makes me ill.

  “Exclusive, Lina. No third party.” He deadpans.

  Reality sets in. “Julian, I need you to be honest with me. Have I also become one of your women? One you fuck from time to time? Am I just nothing but a warm body to you?” I stare at the floor, unable to look at him.

  Of course, you are, Lina. You’re just a childhood friend he bangs.

  I feel cheap. You should just leave and keep whatever pride you have intact.

  Cupping my chin, he forces me to look at him. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like that. Nothing could be further from the truth. This arrangement is all new to me, and I want something with you. We are, and if you consent, we will continue to be lovers until we have to go our separate ways. I care about you. And no matter what, we will always be friends. I promise not to run away again.”

  Not a girlfriend.

  Not just a woman he sleeps with from time to time but a lover for a short period of time.

  What is the difference?

  “Being exclusive is new to me. I won’t share you, Lina.”

  “You’ve never been exclusive?” The thought bothers me.

  “Never. More importantly, you’re the only woman I have ever spent the night with. The only woman who will ever sleep in my bed.”

  “And I thought I had it rough.”

  “I’ve never been in a position where I wanted to be exclusive.” Did he have to remind me? “I’ve never wanted to romance a woman before. I don’t even know where to start. But I want something with you.”

  He wants something with me.

  I look up, and my eyes are focused on the man who wants something with me, even if it’s temporary. That’s the thing about being in a relationship with someone who ignores you for years. A part of you feels worthless that when someone offers a lifeline, you’ll jump at the chance just to feel alive again. Yes, this heart of mine is going to break, but I long to feel it beating. It had stopped beating for several years, and the fact it was thumping against my chest, trumped all logic away.

  I’m already crazy mad for him, and we’ve only spent a few nights together. Will an entire month change us? Will I become one of the desperate women begging him for more after the month is over? Surely, I can handle a month.

  Yeah, Lina, keep fooling yourself.

  “How do I know you’re not going to sleep with another woman tomorrow?” Protect thyself. From heartbreak, from longing, from loving him.

  “You, Lina. You’re the reason.” His eyes are trained on mine. “I’ve been faithful to you since San Francisco.”

  “What?” My head jerks slightly. “You’re kidding me. I know you left me to meet up with the bitch.”

  The corner of his lips tilted slightly when I referred to Shira as the bitch.

  “No, I didn’t. I wouldn’t have done that. You’re the only person I’ve been intimate with since San Francisco.” His grin slowly falters and then his face becomes serious. He traces my cheek with his forefinger before making its way to my bottom lip. “Lina.”

  “Julian,” I answer. I seek his face, and his eyes are studying mine. Somehow, I trust his admission.

  “Please say yes.” He exhales. “I want this. Accept my proposal, and let me taste those sweet lips of yours. May I?” he asks. And then he does the unthinkable. He bites his own lower lip, and I am a goner.

  God, help me.

  I respond with only a nod, eager for his lips to touch mine.

  You spineless woman.

  We don’t come to any agreement about the proposed interlude.

  This is the kiss of life. Damn this gorgeous, complicated man for delivering the most earth-shattering kisses.

  It is sensual.

  It is desperate.

  It is possessive.

  It makes my heart … beat.

  As I melt in his mouth, I become putty in his hands. I have never been this aroused, this consumed, this attracted to another human being before. I had never felt this way about my first love.

  “Lina,” he utters before pulling slightly away. “Please, p
lease stay with me here. You don’t have to decide right now. I would love for you to be with me. We don’t have to do anything. I just want to be with you. We can stay in and watch something on Netflix. Read books on the couch? Listen to music? I want nothing more than just to have you close. We can take it slow.”

  “Julian, we’ve done it five times since last night. Five. Times. I think we’re over the taking it slow phase. I want another round.” I can’t believe I just asked him for more sex.

  His laughter is hearty and sincere. “Darling, Lina.”

  “Yes, Julian.”

  “Say that again.”

  “I want another round. Pronto.” That desperate kiss of his got me all hot and bothered. Yet, I’m so sore that my girl screams, “Let me rest!”

  Grabbing a fistful of my hair, he tugs it to tilt my head and I am unable to turn away. “Oh, you make me feel things.” Taking a hold of my lips, he uses his tongue to invade mine, and there is no escaping him. His hands run through my hair, and I breathe his heady scent in. “It’s always been you,” he utters. Without any more words, my body’s reaction to his touch is an answer to his proposal. I want to be with him and only him, if only for this fleeting period.

  Although I beg him for another round, we do everything except have sex. He reminds me that I need to rest. My girl thanks him.

  After locking lips like horny teenagers on the couch, we decide to watch Cinema Paradiso, and we spend the rest of the day and night in his penthouse. I swim leisurely in the heated lap pool while he conducts business a few feet away. As I now lie in his enormous bed rereading W. Somerset Maugham’s The Painted Veil, he is right beside me reading Neil Gaiman’s American Gods. Every now and then, I peek up, noticing the tenderness in his eyes. With a playlist in the background reminiscent of the music we grew up listening to, it feels like home.

  He is home.

  Twelve

  Although we spend a good deal of our time together at Julian’s place, I usually head to my apartment on LaGuardia Place to finish some work before returning to the duplex. Today, though, I managed to get through my creative block and immersed myself in work, forgetting the time. My lover suggested he meet me at the loft. After his last meeting at the office, he walked over to my place with delicious dishes from one of my favorite local restaurants, Lupa. After devouring the ricotta gnocchi and saltimbocca with a bottle of Pinot Noir, we decide to forgo going out. With full bellies, we lie on the leather sofa and decide to stay in for the night, getting ready to watch something on Netflix.

  As I settle on the distressed sofa, Julian surprises me when he asks, “Lina, was Andrew your first?”

  Why is he asking this?

  “Was Andrew your first?” His eyes bore into me, waiting for an answer.

  With my back against the sofa armrest, my body faces Julian as he massages the balls of my feet. I stare at him.

  “Yes, you know that. And until you he was the only man I have ever been intimate with.”

  A small smile forms along the corner of his mouth.

  “Now your turn, who was your first?” I ask.

  He stills, and I feel him tense. The man who broached the subject doesn’t respond to my question.

  “Come on, Julian. I answered your question. Tit for tat.”

  With both my legs still on his lap, he slowly turns his body to face me. “I don’t know how to answer that without fear that you’ll be disgusted with me.”

  I push my back off the armrest, reaching for his hand. “Why would you think that? Oh my God, was it with a prostitute?” I tease.

  He reaches for my hands and places them to his lips. Taking a deep breath, he says, “Astrid.”

  I shake my head. “A prostitute named Astrid?”

  He sighs and casts his head down, staring at our entwined hands. “Not a prostitute.” He exhales. “My stepmum.”

  Did he just say stepmum?

  No, I must be mistaken. No.

  “Lina?”

  I peer up, and my green eyes fail to hide my astonishment. A hooker would have been so much better.

  I am dumbfounded. Yet I want to know everything. Curiosity gets the best of me so I ask, “How did it happen?”

  “Do you really want to know?”

  I purse my lips and nod like a fool.

  Julian reaches for his wine before proceeding to tell me how he lost his virginity to his stepmother.

  “Father had buried himself in work. It was during one of his business trips when he met Astrid, who was working as an assistant.

  “A month after meeting her, Father brought a pregnant Astrid back to London and married her. A few weeks later, she had a miscarriage. Father seemed to deal with the situation, but Astrid was distraught. At first, I took to her quickly because she was attractive, funny, and more importantly, she made him happy.”

  Unfamiliar emotions surface, but I refrain from saying anything.

  Julian continues, “After Mum’s passing, Father’s life revolved around work. It became worse after Caroline’s death. He blamed himself for her demise. Father became a ghost. Months would go by without seeing him until Astrid became my stepmum. Things started to change that summer. Astrid was getting acclimated to living in London. At first, I thought she was being really warm and affectionate because I was her stepson. Father was traveling, and Astrid stayed with me in Belgravia. For several days, it was just Miss Pendleton, Astrid and me at the apartment. And you know Miss Pendleton’s routine is like clockwork. She ate her meals around eight thirty p.m. and then retired to her bedroom by nine thirty p.m. every night.”

  Julian is calm as if he were reciting a bedtime story. Pouring a glass of newly opened Australian Shiraz for the two of us, he continues, “Astrid opened my bedroom door and stood there, wearing an outfit. Simply put, she was dressed to get fucked. I was sixteen and a virgin. All I thought about was sex.”

  I interrupt him when I say, “Sixteen.”

  Julian studies me and nods. Inching toward me in tiny increments, he pauses as his eyes wander down, noticing my fidgeting hands.

  “Do you really want to know the details?” he pleads, waiting for me to respond.

  Curiosity gets the best of me. I want to torture myself, and I practically beg him to go on. “Yes, please, of course, I want to know. It’s a part of your history.”

  “Astrid didn’t say anything. She kissed me, and instead of pushing her away, I let her continue. I was so aroused I couldn’t think straight.” He pauses. “Proceed?”

  What made me nod my head again? The need to hurt my aching heart more than ever? What is wrong with me? Deep down, I am a masochist.

  “I’ve never told anyone this. Actually, that’s not exactly true. I shared it with Alistair. Well, she pulled down my pajama pants and boxer briefs and sucked my cock. It was obvious back then that I had never been intimate with anyone before. She was prepared, even managed to put a condom on me, climbed on top, and rode my cock. After we had both come, she straightened herself and left the room without a word. She didn’t even bother to help me get the condom off.” He continues to drink his wine.

  I don’t offer any words. That woman took advantage of him.

  I am shocked, upset, and jealous all at the same time. Julian’s eyes are on mine as he revisits losing his virginity to his stepmother and his stare is unnerving. When he takes a sip of his wine, I begin to think about my first sexual encounter. Andrew and I had been dating for several years and it wasn’t until I turned twenty that I had decided to become intimate with him. He had also been a virgin and had never pressured me into sex. We had done other things; I would give him hand jobs while he fondled my breasts but that was as far as I would go before losing my virginity. It was during our summer break while my grandparents were out of town. It wasn’t an earth-shattering first time but I gave myself to a man I loved, and Andrew had vowed to love me forever. I sigh and suddenly I am brought back to the present.

  I fidget with the hem of my dress. “Did she ever say anything
about that particular incident?”

  “Lina, how shall I explain this? This−” He stumbles for a second. “This thing with Astrid went on for a few weeks. At first, it was exciting. And truth is, she was easy and uncomplicated. After Caroline died, I got high every day. Then I realized that sex was the best way to get high.”

  I stare at Julian, trying to understand his confession. With hesitancy, I ask, “Did you or do you still love her?”

  His captivating eyes enlarge. “God, no.” He bites the corner of his lower lip before shaking his head. “We were both lonely.”

  Sixteen.

  “Lonely? I understand loneliness, but how could she? She’s your stepmother.” I shake my head; dumbfounded someone could do this to her husband and stepson.

  “I know what I did was wrong, and I can’t take it back. I was stupid and I hate myself. I can’t offer any excuses for Astrid.” He stops himself, lightly shaking his head. “And what I’ve done to the most important man in my life is unconscionable. I … I was a broken teenager.”

  “Julian, it’s not your fault. You were a kid. But that woman’s to blame. She was the adult.” I stare into Julian’s eyes and know my next words are true. “I know in my heart that no matter what you’ve done, your father will not find you at fault. He’ll always love you. If I sound exasperated, I am. I’m also stupefied. It’s been over for years?”

  “Yes. We’ve always used protection, but somehow, she got pregnant.”

  My eyes open wide. The beating of my heart halts. The thought of Astrid carrying Julian’s child angers and depresses me. I swallow hard. “Where? Where is the child?”

  He doesn’t say a word.

  “Julian. What happened to the child?” I ask patiently, waiting for an answer. Is there a young Julian running around somewhere in this world?

  My mind is hard at work as I try to calculate how old the child would be. Nine? Ten? Eleven?

  His eyes are focused on his hands, yet I can see the sadness in them. “She had an abortion.”

  I rub my temples and don’t know if it’s the wine or the knowledge that a woman felt like she had no choice but to terminate her pregnancy. Life can be so cruel. All I ever wanted was a child of my own and somehow, I was never blessed with one. Even when Andrew admitted a few years ago he didn’t want to adopt, I still held on to the hope of having a child.