The Practitioner

by Ronica Black

  “Hi.”

  “What are you doing here?” Elaine closed her door and slung her purse over her shoulder.

  “I just wondered how you were doing.” She sounded innocent, hurt even.

  What gave her the right?

  Elaine hurried to the door to the house. “You can’t call?” She opened it, found her kitchen half finished with things covered with plastic. She didn’t bother to wait for Kyle, who she knew would follow her inside. She wasn’t sure what she was doing or what she was going to do, but she was so angry and felt so damn hopeless she just moved, discarding her purse and retrieving a bottle of wine. She saw the one Michael had bought for her while she was in the hospital. It made her heart ache.

  “Have you been feeling okay?” Kyle asked from behind.

  Elaine grunted, opening the bottle with the corkscrew. She tossed the cork and corkscrew aside, grabbed a glass, and headed for her living room. The guys were gone for the day, leaving a note about tile. It was just as well; she would’ve told them to go home regardless. She didn’t feel like listening to anything other than Nora Jones.

  She turned on her stereo, found Nora under artists, and pressed play. She stopped in her movements as she heard her voice. It turned her blood to hot lava, and she loved the way it felt running throughout her body. She walked to the sofa, sat, and filled her glass on the coffee table. Kyle remained near the new chair.

  “Is there anything I can do for you?” she asked.

  Elaine sipped heavily. She laughed. “Knock it off, Kyle. You’re here to fuck, nothing else.”

  Kyle looked shocked and then a little embarrassed. “I really just—”

  “Please don’t talk,” Elaine said. “I’m not in the mood.”

  Kyle watched her closely, and then as her confidence grew, she spoke. “What would you like me to do?”

  Elaine eased back, crossed her legs, and sipped her wine. She looked Kyle up and down. She looked so much like Johnnie.

  “Nothing,” she said. “You can go.”

  Kyle walked toward her. “I don’t think that’s what you really want.”

  Elaine smiled, feeling devilish. “How could you possibly know what I want?” How could you possibly be Johnnie? It was impossible; there was only one.

  The doorbell rang. Elaine set down her glass and rose. Kyle remained by the chair, but disappointment marked her young face. Elaine pulled open the door. Johnnie stood staring at her with red-rimmed eyes. She’d changed clothes, and her wet head suggested a shower. The paint was gone from her fingers.

  “Johnnie,” Elaine breathed. She inhaled deeply as if she could finally breathe, as if she’d been holding her breath since the restaurant.

  Chapter Forty-seven

  “Can I come in?”

  Elaine looked back. Kyle was upset; she could hear the conversation.

  “Yes, of course. Kyle was just leaving.”

  Johnnie entered, saw the young woman, and her face reddened. “Jesus, you think I’m bad. You’ve been gone what, an hour? And she’s here?”

  Elaine struggled for words. “She’s just leaving. She’s just here to check on me.”

  “You’ve fucked her,” Johnnie said. “I can feel it.” She was staring Kyle down who wasn’t doing much to hide her feelings.

  “Kyle, please go,” Elaine said sternly.

  Kyle pushed off from the chair and walked to the door. She faced off with Johnnie. They turned together as Kyle pushed out the door.

  Elaine closed and locked it. Then turned to Johnnie.

  “How can I help you, Johnnie?”

  “What were you about to do with her?” Johnnie was angry, crestfallen. Elaine could see her heart tearing, trying to jump from her chest. She felt the same way at having seen Monica. And goddamn it, she was so tired of it. The back-and-forth over Johnnie. She walked to her sofa, sat, and brought her feet up.

  “You sure you want to know?” she asked, feeling a little numb from the alcohol. How could Johnnie be demanding the answers to these questions when Elaine had just felt the same and had gotten none?

  Johnnie came closer, face still red. “I don’t know, do I?”

  Elaine sipped slowly. Now she had the real thing right in front of her in her new home with the new insides. Johnnie was here, in the flesh, but she was upset. They both were. Elaine thought of Monica, wondered what all they’d done together in the dark. What all had the stars seen? Would she ever see it? Would she ever have Johnnie?

  Johnnie came closer. “Were you going to fuck her?”

  Elaine blinked at her forwardness. “No.”

  “Then what?”

  Elaine set down her glass and leaned forward. “I was going to try real hard to pretend she was you. Just as I have always done with her.”

  Johnnie obviously wasn’t expecting that answer. She reared back a little and tried to regain her composure. When she spoke it was a whisper. “How so?”

  Elaine held her gaze. “Take off your shirt.”

  Johnnie looked incredulous. “What?”

  “You want to know, I’m showing you. Take off your shirt.”

  Johnnie stood very still. The red from her face crawled lower, flushing her neck. And then she did it. She pulled off her shirt and stood in a black bra and loose jeans with a thick belt. Her chest heaved with quickened breath and her jaw flexed as she stared into Elaine.

  Elaine matched her breathing, despite trying to control it. Johnnie was so strong, etched with muscle. One of those women who didn’t need to lift weights to look strong. She was just built that way, with full round breasts held back by a shiny black bra.

  Elaine struggled to speak. “Now your jeans.”

  Johnnie glanced down, then met her eyes again. She looked fierce, as if it were a dare and she was determined to meet it head-on. Slowly, she unbuckled her belt, unfastened her jeans, and lowered them with little help. She stepped out of them in matching black panties and kicked them aside.

  Elaine stared at her in disbelief. Kyle couldn’t even compare. Johnnie was curved in all the right places, legs shapely with muscle. Her panties were high-cut, and Elaine was almost positive they were a thong.

  “Is this what you wanted?” Johnnie asked. “Her, like this?”

  “No,” Elaine said. “You, like this.”

  “Well, here I am.”

  “Yes.” She forced herself to ease back as if she were relaxed. She crossed her legs. Hid her trembling hands in her lap.

  They stared at one another for a long moment. Johnnie started to speak, but Elaine once again took control.

  “Sit down in the chair,” she said.

  Johnnie looked back at it. She hesitated, then moved. She sat.

  Elaine spoke, trying to control her voice. “Scoot back.”

  Johnnie did. She looked so incredibly sexy in the white chair. Elaine wanted to rise and straddle her. Kiss her madly, deeply. But she held back.

  “Now, rest your legs over the armrests.”

  Johnnie didn’t move, just stared. “You want me to spread my legs?”

  Elaine swallowed. “Yes.”

  Johnnie did it, one leg at a time, painfully slowly.

  Elaine couldn’t tear her gaze away if she had wanted to. But the sight was almost too much to process. She felt her heart beat against the cage of her ribs. Ricocheting throughout her.

  “Now,” she managed. “Slide your hand into your panties.”

  Johnnie rested her hand on her chest and then allowed it drift downward. She eased it into the front of her panties.

  “Don’t move,” Elaine said. “Don’t touch yourself, not yet.”

  Johnnie stilled, watched her.

  “I want you to imagine me doing things to you. I want you to imagine I’m sitting behind you and it’s my hand in your panties, touching you, stroking you, making you wet. Can you do that?”

  Johnnie struggled for breath. “Yes.”

  Elaine watched intently. “Now, slowly, frame your clit with your fingers and stroke up and
down.”

  Johnnie began, moaning softly in the process. “I’m already so wet,” she said, igniting a strong fire within Elaine who was watching her hand move slowly beneath the black fabric. “Fuck,” she said, closing her eyes.

  “Does it feel good?” Elaine asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you pretending it’s me?”

  “It is you,” Johnnie said. “Only you can make me feel like this. Touch me like this.”

  “Slide your fingers lower. Coat yourself with your slick wetness.”

  “So wet,” Johnnie moaned.

  “Now, circle your clit, around and around.” Elaine stood, unable to help herself. She moved closer.

  “Frame it again, up and down.”

  “Oh God,” Johnnie groaned. “Please.”

  “Please what?”

  “Touch it.”

  “Touch what?” Elaine lowered herself to her knees. “Tell me what you want touched.”

  “My clit,” Johnnie breathed. “Fuck.” She jerked as Elaine leaned in and breathed on her skin.

  “Mm.” Elaine moved up her thigh, lightly breathing, then moved to the other. Her own clit began to throb as she watched Johnnie react, jerking and thrusting her hips.

  “Now move from side to side. Jerk yourself off.”

  Johnnie’s hand moved quickly; her eyes were clenched.

  Elaine watched her face, mesmerized. Then she leaned farther in and kissed the pale flesh of her thigh. Johnnie jerked with surprise. Held her breath, opened her eyes. Then she exhaled with quick moans as Elaine continued to kiss up her thigh. Elaine could feel her quiver as she moved to the other leg, kissing slowly upward.

  Her thighs were firm with muscle, soft and silken to her eager lips. When she reached her panties, she kissed Johnnie’s moving hand and then bit it softly, sending Johnnie into a mad series of movements and pleadings.

  “What is it, Johnnie?” she asked. “Tell me what you want.”

  “I want you—your mouth.”

  “You want my mouth on you? You want me to suck you off, make you come?”

  Johnnie pushed her hips up toward her lingering mouth. “Yes.”

  “Yes what? Say what you mean, Johnnie. Don’t be afraid to say it.”

  “Fuck,” she breathed. “Suck—me off. Please—hurry.”

  Elaine groaned with pleasure and ran her hands up her legs to her panties. Johnnie stilled her hand, removed it, and helped Elaine pull the fabric to the side. Elaine took in the heaven below her. Glistening, hungry, pink flesh, waiting for her to take it in and feed, suck, devour.

  Elaine closed her eyes and lowered her mouth. She felt the warm flesh on her lips and heard a noise. It didn’t register at first; she didn’t want it to. But Johnnie jerked, both in wanting and in surprise. She pulled away quickly and sat up.

  Elaine opened her eyes as the noises grew louder.

  “Someone’s here,” Johnnie breathed, eyes wide.

  Elaine pushed up and stood. There were voices in the kitchen, movement. Men.

  “Shit, the workers.” She hurried back to the coffee table, grabbed Johnnie’s clothes, and brought them to her.

  “Dress. I’ll go hold them off.” She hurried into the kitchen where the men were carrying in more boxes of tile.

  “You surprised me,” Elaine said, hand to chest. Her heart was still racing, her head dizzy with a blood rush.

  The foreman, who wore jeans, a dirty T-shirt, and suspenders, ran a hand through the strands of thinning hair on his head.

  “We lucked out. Found a place that had more in stock.” He smiled. “I figured we’d come back and get as much done as possible.” His eyes crinkled. “I called, left you a message.”

  Elaine nodded. “Great. Good idea.” Her phone was charging. She had no idea who had tried to call. “I’ll leave you to it then.” She returned to the living room and found Johnnie standing near the door. She was dressed, hands shoved nervously in her pockets. She looked thoroughly embarrassed.

  “I’m so sorry,” Elaine said, walking up to her.

  Johnnie shrugged. “Not your fault.”

  Elaine touched her arms. “You don’t have to go,” she said. But the mood had changed. Johnnie had pulled away, and Elaine was flustered beyond belief. The men had almost gotten quite the eyeful.

  “I, uh,” Johnnie struggled for words.

  “Say what you want,” Elaine said softly. “What you mean.”

  Johnnie looked into her eyes. “I’m upset that she was here. That you were about—”

  “I don’t want her,” Elaine said. “Just so you know.”

  Johnnie looked away.

  Elaine thought of Monica. The look she’d seen pass between them. “Did you sleep with Monica?”

  Johnnie wouldn’t meet her eyes.

  “You did,” Elaine said, feeling her stomach clutch.

  “I was drunk,” Johnnie said. “Hurt. Confused. We kissed.”

  “You touched her?”

  Johnnie’s eyes filled with tears, and she still refused to look at Elaine.

  “I should go,” Johnnie said.

  Elaine stepped back, crushed, nearly floored at thinking of Johnnie touching the attractive dark haired woman. Moaning for her, thrusting for her, just as she’d done for Elaine. It seemed every woman Elaine met had had Johnnie the way she wanted her.

  “I just can’t seem to have you,” Elaine whispered.

  Johnnie opened the door. “I’m sorry,” she said and pushed open the security door.

  “I am too. I’m absolutely devastated,” she choked out, turning away. She heard the door swoosh closed and she closed the front door without looking back. She couldn’t bear to watch Johnnie walk away.

  Chapter Forty-eight

  Johnnie and Jolene drove in silence. Jolene sipped from a can of V8 and then fidgeted with her thick weathered fingers. It had taken three Xanax to get her to agree to the trip away from the house. Unlike Johnnie, Jolene didn’t like to take medication every day in order to conquer her fear of the outside world. So to get her to go, it took a hefty dose of Xanax and the promise of something great. Today it was her brother. They were going to his home in Sedona, and Jolene was looking forward to it, regardless of her anxiety.

  “He said he’s been making something new,” Jolene said, picking at her loose red cotton dress. Her braid was hanging down her left shoulder, almost like a pet snake. Johnnie watched her finish with her dress and then twist her turquoise rings.

  “Can’t wait to see it,” Johnnie said. Jolene’s brother, Henry, was an artist, though his medium was different from Johnnie’s. Henry made things out of metal, and he was really popular, especially with the Sedona tourists. Johnnie took Jolene up a few times a year, and Henry often came down to deliver a piece to a customer or a gallery. Johnnie loved going and often took advantage of his sweathouse. He’d been trained in the ways of medicine by Jolene’s father who was a medicine man. Henry knew a lot, and he practiced the old ways, but only with specific people. He didn’t advertise, and didn’t usually share his services with tourists. A true medicine man, according to Henry, didn’t advertise for profit.

  “I need this sweat,” Johnnie said, running a tired hand through her hair. She was so torn up inside, so confused. Her heart wanted what it couldn’t have, and Gail’s aggressive tactics were beginning to wear her down. She was always showing up, either at the studio or at her loft. Then she’d disappear for a day or two. And no matter how upset Johnnie seemed to get with her, Gail always knew exactly what to say to calm her down. She’d even calmed her after she’d last seen Elaine. Johnnie had been a wreck, yelling at her, throwing blank canvases around, collapsing on the sofa in the studio to cry. Gail had sat next to her and soothed her. Telling her she deserved someone who really wanted her, who was really there. Johnnie had pulled away, insisted they leave the studio. She drove quickly, straight to Sean’s bar where she found her booth and drank herself into oblivion.

  Ian had found her and slid in across
from her, talking some sense into her. He’d waited with her until she’d sobered up and then they’d driven to his house. She’d fallen onto his couch and slept, only to awaken from a nightmare at three a.m. She’d tossed the blanket off and driven home. Gail was asleep in her bed, and Johnnie had been too tired to fight it. She climbed in next to her, and Gail snuggled close, her nude body soft and warm. She’d kissed her, wiped her tears, and undressed her. Then she’d made love to her, making her come, which had made her cry. Gail had held her then, and Johnnie had finally fallen asleep.

  “Gail is not good for you,” Jolene said. “You need to sweat her away.”

  Johnnie didn’t argue. She knew how to get rid of Gail for good, but for some reason she was keeping her around. Why was that?

  “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she confessed. “I know I want Elaine, but she’s—I’m—I don’t think either one of us is really ready for what it would mean.”

  “Don’t settle for second best,” Jolene said. “You need to be happy alone before you can be happy with someone else.”

  Johnnie considered her words. “I am happy alone,” she said.

  “Are you? You got depressed when you were alone and you couldn’t work.”

  “I—” But Johnnie stopped. She wanted to say it was just a fluke, a freak thing. But she wasn’t sure what had caused it exactly. She sighed. “Fuck.”

  Jolene laughed a little.

  “Stop worrying now and take in the red rocks.”

  Johnnie turned left and headed for Sedona. The red rocks loomed, carved especially for beauty, God’s artistic gift to those who sought them. Johnnie eased down the windows and breathed in the cool air. Henry lived just beyond the town limits. Johnnie followed the dirt road that lead to his house and wound through the scarlet landscape, breeze blowing through the brush and rare tree. When they pulled in at the house, they waited for Henry to come around. Jolene commented on how good the house looked. Henry had been doing some work, and several of his metal sculptures decorated the front desert landscape. Johnnie took them in in sheer wonder and she considered again taking up welding. Henry sure was doing well with it.