by Dee Ernst
He was watching her. “I’m not going to leave you, Diane,” he said carefully. “You know, my father never found another woman after my mother died. He said that she had been his great love, and he wanted no other. I believe in that. I believe that you can find one person to love forever. And I love you.”
“I know.” She nodded and hugged herself again. She chewed her lip. “Do you think we have a future, Michael?”
He pushed his hands into his front pockets and leaned back against his desk. “Why wouldn’t we?”
“I think about it, that’s all. When you’re my age, I’ll be retired. I’ll probably be a grandmother. You could still have a great career going, I mean, look at people like McCartney and Jagger, they’re in their sixties. When you’re in your sixties I’ll be in a walker, going to the MTV Awards hooked up to oxygen. Do you ever think about that stuff?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “No, I don’t.”
“What about kids? Because if you want any, you’re with the wrong woman.”
“I haven’t thought about that either. My dad has plenty of grandchildren, I have lots of cousins to carry on the family name. If I wanted children badly enough, we would find a way. It’s not a deal breaker.”
“What if I got sick? My dad died of cancer, and there’s heart disease on Mom’s side. Genetically, I’m doomed. You were eight when your mother died, Michael. Would you want to go through something like that again?”
He stopped smiling. “No. I can’t think of anything more excruciating than watching – no.” He took a step toward her, then stopped. “Something could happen to me too, you know? I could get sick as well, get into an accident, hell, Diane, it’s all a crapshoot, isn’t it? I love you, and if you get old and feeble and toothless, I’ll still love you. And if I’m crippled or senile, I hope –“ He stopped. They looked at each other across the room.
“This is a very strange conversation we’re having, isn’t it?” Diane asked softly.
He shrugged. “We’ve talked about everything in the past few months, religion, music, books, skin diving, everything except what we want from each other. Why do you think that is?”
“Because, generally we’re happy with each other? If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, right?”
“So does this mean we’re broke?”
“No.” She crossed over to him and put her arms around his neck, feeling the strong, familiar strength of his body. “I think we’re fine. I think we just needed to set a few things straight. Please don’t worry about Quinn.”
His hands were in her hair, pushing the soft curls away from her face. “And I don’t want you running off spending money on trying to look younger every time I talk to somebody under thirty, okay? Although, you do look great. You’ve got a glow, or something.”
“Mud treatment.”
“Really? Okay, that’s gross. But you look great.” He grinned. “Are you glowing all over?”
“Maybe we could get naked later and see.”
“Okay,” he said softly. His eyes were still troubled, and she traced the outline of his lips with her finger.
“Michael, don’t you trust me enough to know that I would never hurt you?”
“I know that you would never deliberately look around for somebody else. But this is different. How do you know what you’ll feel when you see him again?”
“I don’t know. And maybe you’re right. Maybe I’ll have this irresistible urge to spend the rest of my Sundays in front of a quiet fire, reading the London Times, instead of sailing off with you into another glorious day. But I wouldn’t bet on it, okay? I think you’re stuck with me.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I can live with that.” He kissed her, and she kissed him back, deeply, her arms tightening.
“When you kiss me like that,” he murmured, “things start to happen.”
Diane pulled away from him, smiling. “Sorry, didn’t mean to start anything. Not just this second, anyway. Now, do you feel like lobster?”
“You tell me.” He slid his hands down her back and pressed her against him. “Is this what a lobster feels like?”
She giggled, easing her hands into the waistband of his shorts. He kissed her again, hard, no longer playful and teasing.
“Wait,” she whispered, “wait, the door. What if David –“
“I don’t care,” he said, reaching behind her to pull the zipper of her dress down her back. The dress slid to the floor, followed by her bra, and he pulled her forward, sinking back onto the couch, pushing away her panties as she straddled him. He brought his hand between her legs, a feather’s touch, and she kissed him, soft, light kisses, as he stroked her.
He took her breast into his mouth, and she froze, sensation becoming too intense, and she waited, because she knew what his hands could do, knew how his mouth could make her feel. He was always slow, patient, coaxing her along until her orgasm broke like a pounding wave, and she gripped his shoulders as his fingers slid into her, wet and waiting. His tongue teased her, and his hand moved faster, flat against her now, and she threw her head back as the spasms took her, unable to breathe, mouth open in a noiseless scream. Then she sagged against him, a roar in her ears, and the ragged sound of her own breath.
She opened her eyes at last and she realized it was his body that was trembling now, not hers. His eyes were wide and blue, and his hands gripped her thighs.
“It’s just that I love you so much,” he said, as though picking up a thread of conversation they had just dropped a moment ago. “I love you, and I need you.” His voice was low and hoarse. “Prescott, and the movie, it’s making me crazy, and you are keeping me grounded. I need that, more than I ever knew.”
“What happens when the movie is done?” She swallowed hard. “Will you need me then?”
He shook his head hard. “I didn’t mean it like that.” He looked away from her, finding words. “This house - I’ve lived here for almost four years now, and it’s never been home. Even when Gretchen lived with me, it was just a place to eat and sleep. I never felt it was mine. Until you. You’re here now, and at last I have a place to belong. Wherever you are, that’s where I belong. That’s what I need. That’s what you give me.”
He moved beneath her, and as she rose on her knees, he slid forward, pulling down his down, and when she lowered herself down, he was hard and slick, and he filled her, as he filled all her lost and empty places.
“When we make love,” he whispered, “it’s where I’m supposed to be. With you.”
She moved against him, and a flicker of pleasure took her. He saw the change in her face, and took his hands away from her, forcing them down on the cool leather.
“Go on. Do what you want.” She moved again, rubbing herself against him, and his eyes glittered as he watched her. “Just tell me when. I want us to come together.” He pushed his hands against the couch as she rose and fell, and he clenched his jaw. “Don’t close your eyes,” he told her, and she pressed her forehead against his.
“I’m here, Michael, for as long as you want me.” She did not recognize her own voice. “You know that. I’m right here.” She felt the heat exploding. “Now. Now.”
He gripped her around the waist and plunged and they both felt the white-hot flash, Diane crying out, Michael again finding home.
CHAPTER NINE
MARK BENDER CALLED to ask Michael if he could come out for the weekend. “It’s too fucking hot in Hoboken, man. I need green.”
Sure,” Michael laughed. “Come on out. It’s green here.”
Mark left Manhattan early Friday and drove straight out to Mendham. Fred showed him to a guest room, and he quickly changed and headed out to the pool. Michael was alone, drinking beer, looking out over the lake.
“So - where is everybody?” Mark asked, sitting down, sipping beer.
Michael took a deep breath. “Seth is in Atlanta. I don’t know why. David is up in Toronto, getting musicians lined up. Diane is down at the shor
e.” He glanced over at his friend. “Glad you’re here, man. I don’t know what I’d do all by myself.”
Mark looked at Michael closely. He was thinner, looking tired. “How’s the movie thing coming?”
Michael brightened. “Great. I’ll have to play some stuff for you. Different, you know? Really different from anything I’ve done before. The director is driving me fucking crazy, but it’s cool. So far I can deal.”
“So, what’s with Diane?” Mark asked. He was fascinated by his friends’ relationship with Diane. They were the same age, and had until now been attracted to the same type of woman. Diane had come out of left field, as far as Mark was concerned. Not just her age, but her interests, background and attitude. Mark was the first to agree she was a sexy, attractive woman. But beyond that, he was mystified.
Michael shrugged. He knew that Mark didn’t understand his feelings for Diane, but that didn’t affect the friendship. “She’s with her girls,” he explained. “They’re staying with their father down in Beach Haven. He’s got a house. She drove down yesterday, just for the night, to spend some time with them.”
“So, how come you’re not with her?” Mark asked.
Michael took a long drink. “She hasn’t told them we’re seeing each other. It’s some kind of, I don’t know, code or something.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Mark shook his head. “What kind of code?”
“I don’t know. She doesn’t want them to know, because I’m a fucking rock star and both of her girls have a crush on me, or some such shit. And she doesn’t want them to get too attached, because we haven’t been together very long, and what if we break up tomorrow, then the girls would be all upset. I don’t know, I’ve been drinking all afternoon. But I think that covers most of it.”
“Oh, man,” Mark pulled a bag of pot out of his pocket and began to roll a joint. “How do you feel about that? Sounds pretty fucked up.”
Michael shook his head, watching Mark carefully tamp down the marijuana. “No. She’s got a point. Her oldest daughter got kinda pissed off when she found out about us, you know?”
“Yeah?’’ Mark ran his tongue down the edge of the paper, and sealed the joint shut. “Did the oldest daughter have a crush too?”
Michael shrugged.
Mark flicked his lighter and drew on the joint. “So, is she hot?”
“Who?”
“The daughter, man. You could do, like, a threesome, you know? How fucking cool would that be?”
Michael passed his hand over his eyes. “Mark, you are so twisted. I can’t believe it. I wouldn’t sleep with her daughter. Shit.” He started laughing. “Yeah, I can see me suggesting that. Diane would fucking kill me. She’d pick up a chair and beat me to a pulp.”
Mark took another hit. “Want some?”
Michael made a face. “You know better.”
Mark leaned his head back. “Can we go sailing later? I love sailing when I’m high.”
Michael took another swig of beer. “Sure. Then we’ll eat. How about the pub?”
Mark nodded, and smoked the joint in silence. He carefully tamped it out, and got to his feet. “Let’s go, man. I want to sail.”
They spent the next hour on the water, then came in and went into town to eat. Mark was a good distraction for Michael. They talked about their high school days together, about the upcoming reunion.
“Next year,” Mark said excitedly. “It’ll be great. You and I were two of the biggest geeks, man, and look at us now. You’re like a star, and I’m going to make a million fucking dollars this year. Don’t you want to see Warren Estes face when he sees us?”
“Warren Estes? Shit, I haven’t thought about him in years. He was such an asshole.”
“I know, man. I hope he’s selling fucking insurance somewhere, married to some fat bitch.” Mark was trying to roll another joint as Michael drove home. “I want to see that redhead, you know, the cheerleader. Shit, she had the most perfect set of tits in all of Fabian’s. You know who I mean?”
Michael chuckled. “Yeah. I know who you mean.”
Mark lit the joint and took a long drag. “Every guy in the whole school tried to get in her pants. I know she was fucking somebody, I mean, I know it. I could just never figure out who.”
Michael looked sideways at his friend. “That was me, man.”
Mark stared. “What? You? You’re kidding me. You have to be. She was a fuckin’ foot taller than you, Mike.”
“Just about. It was after I joined the band - of course. She didn’t know I was alive before that. But that whole senior year, it was amazing. Denise followed me around every weekend, chasing girls away, trying to protect my innocence. But during the week, I’d be over at her house.” Michael shook his head, remembering.
“Fuck you, man. I can’t believe you never told me. Shit.” Mark stared out the window. “So, tell me now. Was that the best sex ever? I mean, it had to be. She was so fuckin’ hot. I know, you’ve had more women than any five regular guys, but she was the best, right?”
Michael drove, watching the road, turning up toward the house. “No, man. The best is right now,” he said shortly. He looked sharply at his friend. “And I’m not going to tell you all about it, okay?”
Mark threw up his hands and shrugged. “Okay.”
They went into the house. Mark headed for the kitchen, grabbed a couple of beers, and met Michael back out by the pool. Michael had not turned on the lights, and the only light was from the quarter moon. He took the beer from Mark and watched as Mark pulled off his clothes and dove naked into the pool. Seconds later, Max jumped in after him.
“If your dog tries to bite my dick, I’m gonna be really pissed off,” Mark called, swimming lazily.
Michael laughed. “Max ignores anything under an inch long, man, you’re safe.”
Mark pulled himself out of the pool and padded to the table, took a long drink of his beer, then slumped down into a chair. “So, you’ll see Diane tomorrow night? Do you want me to leave?”
Michael shook his head. “No, she’ll probably spend tomorrow night at her place. I won’t see her ‘till Sunday. Stay. I have to work tomorrow, but you can hang. Seth should be back, though. You two can go trolling for women.”
“Yeah?” Mark looked encouraged. “That would be cool.” They sat in silence for a few minutes. “So, why won’t you see Diane?”
Michael shrugged. “She likes to spend time alone, that’s all. It’s no big deal.” He looked at Mark. “This is kind weird for her, I think. She wasn’t exactly expecting somebody like me to suddenly appear in her life. She just has to re-group sometimes.”
“She sounds like a very complicated woman,” Mark said, shuddering.
“She is. That’s the great thing, you know? We’ve been together almost three months. And I’ve never been bored. Not once. She’s fantastic.”
Max hauled himself out of the pool and stood in front of Mark as he shook himself. Water flew everywhere. Mark cursed. Michael just laughed.
Michael drove over to Diane’s late Sunday afternoon. It was hot, the air heavy with rain, the sun behind clouds. Her car was in the driveway. He walked into the house without knocking. She had given him a key at the start of the summer, but he rarely used it. She was always home when he came by.
Music was blasting, as usual. The Supremes. He smiled as he followed a series of thumps back to the den.
She was rearranging furniture, trying to push the loveseat against the wall. Michael stepped in and picked up an end, sliding it effortlessly in place. She grinned at him.
“You have perfect timing, as usual.” She came over and put her arms around his waist, kissing him.
“What happened to you?” he asked, frowning. There was a long scrape down her cheek, and a gauze bandage on her elbow.
Diane shrugged and looked embarrassed. “I fell. Megan wanted me to go roller-blading, and I stupidly said I’d try. I’m the world’s biggest klutz. I should have known better. I totally wiped ou
t on my very first attempt.” She twisted her arm and looked at her elbow. “This isn’t so bad. My thigh is all tore up.” She turned to show him. Her upper leg was red and raw.
“God - does it hurt?”
“Just a little. The worst part was having an ER nurse pick gravel out of my butt.”
Michael chuckled. “That, I would have liked to see. How are the girls?”
“Great. Help me here, okay?” They maneuvered the television back into the corner. Diane looked around. “Better, don’t you think? More room?”
“Yeah. I wish you’d let me help you with this kind of stuff.”
“You just did. Thank you.” She put her arms around him again. “So how was your weekend?”
“Good. Mark was over.”
“And how is Mark?”
“He thinks you’re a complicated woman.”
Diane shook her head. “Nothing against your friends, but Mark would think a bendable Barbie was complicated.” She kissed him, slowly. Michael brought his hands up from her hips, across her back, and she winced.
“What? Your back too?” He turned her around and lifted her tee shirt. The left side of her back was badly scraped . “That has to hurt,” he said.
“Only if I touch it,” she said ruefully.
“Well, that shoots the hell out of my next suggestion,” Michael said with a chuckle.
“Hmm, we’ll see. Beer?”
“No. Thanks.” He followed her into the kitchen. “Mark was drunk or high all weekend. Un-fucking-believable. I drank so much beer I’m going to feel buzzed for the next three days.”