by Gina Kincade
***
A week later, I receive a visit from my mother.
“You never answer my calls.” She leans up and kisses my cheek then runs her hand across my entry table and looks at her fingers. “Doesn’t your cleaning crew come here anymore?” Taking a deep breath, I follow behind her as she walks to the living room and sits down on the couch. “You could offer your mother a drink.”
“I’m sorry, Mother. Vodka on the rocks is it?” She gives me a nod, and I walk over to the liquor cabinet against the far wall, pour her drink and make a double Jack and Coke for myself.
“Virginia called me the other day.” With drinks in my hands, I stop when she says the name. “You’d know that if you would have returned my calls.” Closing my eyes briefly, I walk over and give her the drink. “Anyway…” She takes a drink, and I walk over to the window across from her. “She and Lawrence would like to come over on Christmas Eve.” Quickly, I look over my shoulder. My brows lowered. “Oh, Nolan. You can’t avoid them forever.” Yes, I can.
I turn back to the window and look out at the city lights below. “It’s too soon,” I mumble.
I hear her move but don’t turn around, then feel her hand on my arm. “Darling, it’s been over a year.” Closing my eyes, I shake my head. “I can’t tell you how long one grieves, but she wouldn’t want you to stop living.” I look down at her, anger enveloping me. “Please. You may have had your differences, but in the end, you forgave each other. Isn’t that what really matters?”
“It was too late, Mother,” I say through gritted teeth.
She lets out a sigh. “Perhaps, but do you really think she’d want you to spend the rest of your life pining over her?”
My brows raise high into my forehead. “Pining for her?” Turning, I walk over to the liquor cabinet and pour myself another drink. “More like not making the same mistake.” Taking a long swallow, I clear my throat. “If her mother and father would like to come by Christmas Eve, that’s fine.” Mother stands up straighter and smiles as if she’s won the grandest prize. “I won’t be there. It’s your choice.” Her smile drops in an instant.
After she left, I sat on the couch with another drink, looking out the window. “No, I’ll never make that mistake again.”
Chapter Three
The night of the ball and my anxiety is at its highest. All I can think about is her. What if she isn’t there? I’ll make a bid, have a few drinks, and get the hell out of there. Looking in the foyer mirror, I straighten my tie and slip the mask on my face. If she is there, maybe we’ll talk. No, I’m not ready for that. Grabbing my suit coat, I slip it on and head out the door. I find the cab waiting downstairs and watch the scenery go by once we’re on our way. Christmas lights wrapped around the streetlights and windows and on the buildings of many shops. It was another horrible time in my life, one of bickering and stress. We could never agree on the gifts we were giving our families and friends. Just another thing to argue about. Seemed to be all we did for so long. Argue. She was pretentious, thought she was better than others. I guess we both did. I saw the change before she did, felt it in myself. Hated it. It was too late by the time she discovered it, not enough time to make amends. Maybe she did with herself in the end.
“We’re here, sir.”
Paying the driver, I step out of the cab and walk into the building, the weather chilling me to the bone. Or maybe it was the memories. Stopping by the room with the silent auction, I bid on a few things quickly, then head to the ballroom. Finding the bar, I order my usual. Sipping my drink, I walk around looking at the decorations. Christmas lights strewn from the ceiling and green and red large candles as centerpieces on the tables. A large decorated Christmas tree setting on one side of the dance floor and mistletoe hanging in various places.
“If I may have your attention, please.” Looking across the dance floor there is a small stage with a podium, a man smiling at the crowd. “Thank you. I am happy to announce so far we have raised sixty thousand dollars from each one of you who bought a ticket to attend the ball tonight to give to St. Joseph’s Orphanage.” I look around and clap with everyone else celebrating the amazing contribution. “Don’t forget the silent auction will close in one hour so be sure and get your bids in. Please, enjoy your evening.”
Already bored, I get another drink. Standing at the bar, I take a large swallow, trying to decide whether to stay or go.
“Did you bid?” Blinking rapidly, I look to my left. “I mean on the silent auction. Did you bid on something?” I look around then back at the woman beside me. “I have to admit, I bid on the trip to Paris. I mean, who wouldn’t want to go there?” She giggles and I nod, not knowing what else to do. “And it’s in the spring. Paris in spring! I’m surprised more people haven’t bid on that.” I open my mouth to speak, but I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to talk to her. I have nothing of interest to say. Besides, she’s not—her.
I feel a hand on my right arm. “I’m sorry I’m late, darling.”
My eyes snap to hers. She spoke. I’m not sure I like that, I was enjoying the secrecy, the unknown. But then there’s the alternative of the woman to my left. I shiver internally. The bluest eyes I’ve ever seen stare into mine. Her black hair is up again yet a handful of strands cascade down her back. Her silky dark green dress is off her shoulders, low cut, exposing that cleavage, leaving me to my imagination about those magnificent breasts I’ve longed to hold in my hands again. She is beyond exquisite. I give her a smile. “It’s okay, dear. I was just talking with…” I look to the woman on my left, but she’s gone.
I look back to my right and shrug. “Guess your conversation wasn’t interesting enough.” She laughs, softly, and it’s like music to my ears. I’d wondered what her voice would sound like. Thinking it would be as soft as her skin. Once again, I’m not disappointed.
I let out a small chuckle. “I suppose not. Would you care for a drink?”
“Just water, thank you.” She gives me a shy smile.
I look at the bartender and nod. “Another for me as well.”
We take our drinks and walk over to a small table. Setting my drink down, I pull out a chair for her then sit down beside her. I take a sip and observe the people on the dance floor moving to the music. “I didn’t know if you’d be here tonight.” I glance over at her and meet her eyes.
“I wasn’t sure I would either. But it is such a great cause.” I nod, knowing she’s right.
“About the last time…” I begin, but she stops me.
“It was rude of me to leave the way I did. I…” Her eyes show her sincerity.
“I was going to do the same thing.” Why is my heart pounding so hard against my chest?
She smiles. “I didn’t think you’d want me to stay.”
I think about her words for a moment then turn and look at her. “Would you have? If I’d asked?”
She looks out into the crowd of people. “Yes.”
Without thinking, I stand, take her hand, and we leave the ballroom.
***
“Oh God!” She screams as our slick bodies move in a rhythm that is only ours. Reaching between her legs, I begin rubbing her clit as I move in and out of her. She moans as her head moves from side to side on the pillow. She’s close. I rub harder, faster, in time with my movements.
“Come,” I shout and as my orgasm hits, I watch her unfold beneath me. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.
After washing her, I get into the shower, wondering if I should leave or if she’ll be gone again once I return to the bedroom. Is it wrong that I won’t let her remove my mask or let her take hers off? Do I want her to stay? It’s too soon. Suddenly, the shower door opens. I watch as she steps inside, standing under the cascading water. My heart speeds up as I take her in. Both of us unmasked. Nothing to hold our secrecy. Her hair is—blonde? Long, wet, stuck to her body, down to her waist. Masquerade. She had been totally in costume. She looks up at me, water dripping down her face, making her long lashes a dar
ker blonde. Those blue eyes staring into my soul. She’s a vision. Without a word, she lowers to her knees, her small hand wrapping around my already hardened cock. “Fuck,” I whisper, my head lulling back as my eyes close with her touch. I slap my hand against the tile wall when she takes me in her mouth, almost losing control instantly. She can’t fit much of me in her amazing mouth then she surprises me by sucking more until I feel the back of her throat. “Good God,” I mumble, astonished at what she can do. Before I come in her mouth, I lean down, grab her upper arms, and lift her. She wraps her legs around me as I push inside her, leaning her against the wall. Fuck, she feels so good.
The sound of the water echoes in the confined area along with our heavy pants. Her arms around my neck, her head against the wall, I fuck her as if my life depends on it. Maybe it does. Her guttural moan echoes, intermixing with the water and our heavy breathing as her eyes roll back into her head. That’s all it took. I’ve never come so hard. I kiss her hard then lower her slowly, feeling her body slide down mine. She could become addictive. Maybe she already has.
“I’m going to take a shower,” she says, and I give her a small nod.
Leaving the shower, I grab a towel and wrap it around my waist as I walk into the bedroom. Suddenly, I stop cold. What am I doing? While the sex is incredible is this what I want? Turning my head, I look at the bathroom door. Is this what she deserves? For there can’t be anything more from me. I’m broken and can’t be fixed. Is this fair to her? What kind of man am I to do this? Getting dressed quickly, I leave some money on the nightstand for cab fare for her and bolt into the penthouse elevator. My heart is heavy as I push the button to the lobby. Once in a cab, my heart feels as though it’s thundering against my chest. Taking out my cell phone, I call the one person who can help me.
“I need to see you as soon as possible.” I can’t wait until tomorrow.
“Can you get here now?”
“It’s late. Are you sure?” Please say yes.
“Yes. Come over. I’ll get a pot of coffee going.”
I give the driver the address and settle back into the seat.
When I step out of the cab, I wonder why I’m even here. It’s been so long. I visualize the woman back at the penthouse, her body, her sweet voice. I don’t even know her name. Shaking my head, I walk up the concrete stairs and to the door, pushing the doorbell. The door opens quickly as if she’d heard me arrive. Probably was watching out the window for me. I walk inside, straight into the living room and to the cabinet with the liquor. Pouring a drink, I down it in one swallow.
“I made coffee. Wouldn’t you like a cup?”
“No.” I shake my head and pour another drink. Turning around, I walk over and sit down in the leather chair.
“Nolan. I haven’t seen you in such a long time. What’s wrong?”
Dr. Nancy Colfax. The therapist I’d been seeing while the toxic relationship played out. Well, played into a different area altogether. After…after it ended, I kept coming to see Dr. Colfax. I needed to see her more than ever. When I felt like I could deal with everything, I quit coming. Oh, she called and called trying to get me to come back. I ignored her.
“You left our sessions without a word. Wouldn’t return my calls. Are you saying you didn’t need them anymore? It would have been nice to hear the words.” She holds up a cup and takes a drink.
“I’m sorry about that. I felt that I would be okay without them,” I tell her as if that were true.
She tilts her head in that way that I know she is curious or maybe she knows. “And tonight, you felt the need to come back?” I’m sure she knows the answer to that, or I wouldn’t be here.
I finish my drink and set the glass on the table beside the chair. “Look…” I rub my face with my hands, suddenly exhausted. “I met this woman. I don’t even know her name. We’ve been together twice—in the biblical sense.”
“I see.” She nods. “And how does that make you feel?”
Abruptly, I stand. “I don’t know!”
“Do you like her?” She removes her wire-rimmed glasses and stares at me.
“Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know.” Anger swells inside me, my anxiety heightens.
“Then why were you with her? You had sex, but you don’t know how you feel about it.” It wasn’t a question.
I let out a long sigh and start walking around the room. “When I’m with her, I forget. I feel her body against mine, and I like it. She’s beautiful and intriguing and there’s just something about her.” I stop, turn and look at her. “But that’s wrong, right?”
She sits up straighter. “Wrong that two consenting adults had sex? What’s wrong about it?”
Now, she’s pissing me off. “No. I don’t mean that. Isn’t it wrong that’s all I want? I don’t want to know her name. I don’t want to know what she does for a living, if she lives alone, if she has a dog or a cat, or what her favorite fucking color is.” My heart begins to race, and my palms are sweaty.
She shrugs. “People have sex all the time. A lot of people don’t want a relationship and prefer casual sex.” She tilts her head again, and it’s starting to annoy me. “Why do you think it’s wrong? Is that not what you want? Just what do you want, Nolan?”
Reaching up, I run my hands down my face. “I don’t know! I don’t want to feel anything!”
Her brows raise high. “So, you feel something for her, but you don’t want to.” She leans down and rests her arms on her legs, folding her hands in front of her. “You haven’t let yourself feel anything since Nicole’s death, have you?”
“Don’t.” Anger overtakes me. “I don’t want to hear her name.”
“You haven’t forgiven yourself,” she states.
“I have to go. Thank you for your time. Send the bill to my office.” I start walking out of the living room, praying I can get home quickly. I need another drink.
“It wasn’t your fault, Nolan. She would have died anyway.”
My hand on the doorknob, I look over my shoulder at the doctor standing in the living room doorway. “Yes. She would have…but I should have been there for her.”
Once home, I drink until I can’t feel anymore.
Chapter Four
Ding, dong.
Ding, dong. Ding, dong. Ding, dong.
“What the hell?” Opening my eyes, everything is blurry. Throwing back the covers, I push my legs over the mattress and sit up on the side of the bed. My head throbbing to the beat of the doorbell. “Fuck! I’m coming,” I yell grabbing the sides of my head. I feel sluggish yet angry as I walk to the door, wanting the damn noise to stop. “What?” I yell as I open the door. “Oh. It’s you.” I walk away and straight to the liquor cabinet, pouring a drink and downing it quickly.
“Well, hello to you too, brother. A little early for that, don’t you think?”
Pouring another one, I raise the glass. “Hair of the dog,” I mumble and take a long drink.
“Aw. I see.” Jillian sits down on the couch, making herself comfortable when all I want her to do is leave.
“Why are you here?” I ask as I sit down on the chair beside the couch, taking another swallow, wanting to be alone.
She shrugs. “Heard you’ve been out a couple of times.” David. “I’ve gotta admit, I’m pretty proud of you.” She gives me a smile. It would warm my heart, but it’s numb.
“David should keep his fucking mouth shut.” I take another sip and look out the window. Her body was made for me. The weight of her breasts, fitting perfectly in my hands. Her face when she orgasmed, beautiful, exquisite. Her voice soft, her laugh like music. No. I have to stop thinking about her. I don’t deserve to be happy. I don’t deserve her.
“You met someone.” My eyes snap to Jillian. “You did! Oh, my God!” She smiles, and it lights up her eyes. “Who is she? Does mother know?” Her brows raise as if she’s reading my mind. “She doesn’t! Oh! You’ve got to tell her. She will be so excited!”
“No!” I sit up straight. “There’s n
othing going on. I haven’t met anyone. Leave it alone, Jillian.” Standing, I walk to the front door and open it. “Time for you to go.” Lowering her brows, she doesn’t move. “Jillian.”
She looks ahead out the window. “When she died, I was so angry with you.” I swallow hard, not wanting to hear this. She lets out a sad laugh. “I wondered how in the hell you couldn’t go to her when she needed you the most.” Turning, she looks at me, her eyes filled with tears. “I hated you,” she whispers. Shutting the door, I walk to the couch, sitting on the other end from her. She looks down at her hands in her lap. “Then, for a long time, I thought about your relationship—the damage you caused each other.” When she looks up and turns my way, I watch a single tear move slowly down her face. “It wasn’t your fault, Nolan. You both hurt each other beyond repair. You didn’t know. How could you?”
“I don’t want to talk about this with you,” I tell her.
Her brows raise as her face softens. “You stopped going to the therapist. Why? Did you think you were fixed? That you could go on with your life without a care?” Rolling my eyes, I look up at the ceiling. She’s not going to drop it. “Then you locked yourself away here, buried yourself in your work. That’s not living, Nolan.”
My eyes snap to hers. “It’s what I deserve.”
Scooting closer to me, she places her hand on my arm. “Is that what you think?” I look away, unable to bear her pity. “Nolan. You don’t deserve to be unhappy. To live your life without someone. To be alone. Not all women are like her. There’s someone out there made for you.”