She cocked her hip, planted her hands on either side, which was quite sexy in her slinky dress, sleeveless, gray, hanging at mid-thigh. “Something about you, the sensitive poet type. I’ve read your work. It’s lusty and sweaty and all about souls touching and that sort of crap, which is beautiful, don’t get me wrong. Just…fucking gorgeous, that book of yours, the award winner? What was the name?”
“Yeah, a chapbook contest, nothing major. It was The Intensity of Our Intentions.”
She shook her head. “Blew me away. I mean, I’d seen you around campus, but the way you carry yourself. Kind of cute, but definitely that skinny, quiet, tweed and corduroy thing going on. I couldn’t fit the two together—the one who wrote those raw poems versus you. Like you’re a hidden Casanova or something. I’m dying to find out. That’s why I’m helping you. Believe me, if I thought you could really hurt Carl with all your detective work, I wouldn’t be here right now.”
I shrugged. “I had to try.”
“So why not me? Why did it take this cloak and dagger trade-off to get you into bed?”
I took a deep breath, couldn’t look at her as I said, “Intimidation. Like I could ever please a woman like you. I get rattled.”
She grinned, top teeth ever so slightly rubbing her bottom lip. “Don’t worry about any of that. Believe me. I’ll give you directions. Hope I can teach you a few things. It would be nice to be immortalized in one of your poems.”
With that that, she dropped her arms, crossed them and grabbed the hem of her dress. She lifted it up and off in one practiced motion. Standing there naked with her small breasts, straight hips, and landing strip pussy. She eased her shoes off. Hands right back onto her hips.
I took it in. Like I said, porn appeal. Hard to not get hard. Even to pretend to not get hard. I held the wine bottle aloft one more time. “Are you sure?”
She took it from me, set it aside, and that’s when my well-honed plans turned to shit.
SIXTEEN
Look, I’m not stupid. It wasn’t a complete tragedy. Had it gone the way I originally conceived, she would’ve passed out before we even got to the sex, thus making it all that much easier.
What we had really wanted was Alice out of the way for a while. Otherwise, as soon as we were done, she would have made a few calls and sliced right through all of our preciously-tied yarn that made sense out of a ridiculously confused tapestry. Carl would then know I wasn’t really interested in taking his deal, but instead wanted to expose his secret Roman orgy to the light of day. It wasn’t the perfect solution. It meant also illuminating Frances, Stephanie, Ashton, and plenty of other poor souls who only wanted to broaden their horizons in what they thought was a sympathetic and nurturing group of like-minded colleagues.
I reminded myself, The Greater Good.
The whole time I was fucking Alice, The Greater Good.
She was good, indeed. Too rough. Too demanding, often sounding petulant if I wasn’t doing something right—licking her clit from the wrong angle, not keeping up a steady rhythm, using the wrong finger in her ass, not crouching enough so that doggystyle felt better for her. But I’d gladly make corrections and keep going. She was a grunter. Liked to say “Fuck me” a lot. Liked to say “Push that cock.” Liked to say “Spank my cunt.”
She spread her legs wider than I’d seen anyone else. When she was on top, she kept on her feet and bounced hard, sliding up and down my entire cock.
It. Felt. Good.
It. Chaffed.
The Greater Good
Reminded me of Maggie Estep: I love that kind of pointless intellectualism/
so do it again and/ FUCK ME.
“Jeeeeeeeeeeesus, I’m fucking cumming, Mick, oh GOD, fuck my cunt. Hard hard hard I SAID FUCKING HARD, YES, Yeeeeeeeeees.” And then she squealed.
She came and then came again and then looked up with this not-quite a smile. It was ferocious, like her eyes were about to burst into flames, and it was me doing it to her. I didn’t last much longer after that. Maybe a good ten seconds. And then I tightened up all over and felt my cock pulse inside her, over and over, and I was holding my breath. I finally let it out and rested my cheek against her breast. Another long moment of catching my breath, feeling the tightness and pulsing ebb away, before she patted me on the back like I was a good boy and said, “Move it, big guy. I’ve got to clean up.”
I rolled off and she got up, stayed naked, and padded nice and slow to the bathroom. I’d never seen someone so comfortable in her own skin like that.
Soon as she closed the door, I grabbed wildly for the cell phone, fumbled it, dropped it, and had to lean off the bed and pick it up from the floor.
The bathroom door opened again, and I dropped the phone, spun back around.
She stood there, still naked, holding a towel. “What are you doing?”
“I’m thirsty.”
Alice shrugged, tossed me the towel. “Thought you could use this.”
She turned back into the bathroom.
Got the cell phone again, opened and dialed Jennings. By that time, he should’ve been outside in Octavia’s Escalade.
“Mick?”
I had to whisper. “She didn’t want to drink it.”
“I can’t…hello?”
“She didn’t drink it. I had to go through with it. What do I do now?”
“You’ve got to make her take the pills, Mick. It’s got to be subtle. Did you bring tequila? Women like tequila.”
“She wouldn’t drink anything. Just wanted to fuck and run.”
I heard her singing in the bathroom, not really loud but it was a thin-walled hotel. “I’m comin’ up…I want the…world. To. Know…” Grunting between words, not a good sign.
I wondered—she’s on the pill right? Oh God. How many men had she been with? Oh God. “We have to change our plans.”
“It’s all we’ve got, Mick.”
“Then…shit. Goddamn it. What do I do?”
Then the toilet flushed and she ran the tap, humming now.
“Mick, listen—”
“I’ve got to go.” I hung up and went for the wine, pouring a couple of sloppy, half-full cups and setting down the bottle just in time to meet her at the foot of the bed and hold a cup out to her.
She took it, still fizzing from the pills I’d dropped in, and set it on the TV. “Sorry, I already told you.”
“One sip. A toast.”
Alice laughed. “For a job well-done? Fishing for compliments. Okay, I admit, you were good.” She looked down at my shrinking penis. “How long until he can go again? Because I know a few tricks to recharge him.”
That was enough. I opened my arms. She headed into them for a hug, but I turned her so that her back was against my chest, wrapped my arms around and entangled our fingers. I nuzzled her neck. Reached for the wine cup. Pinned her arms to her side.
“Wait, what—”
She squirmed but I held on, brought the wine to her lips. “Just a little. I went to a lot of trouble.”
“No! Mick, what the hell is wrong with you?”
I tipped it, but she thrashed her head. Almost spilled it. Hard to do this one handed. She slid down and through my arm and spun, licked at me. I fending her off with my free hand, still balancing the drink in the other.
Alice was sure as hell scared, I could tell, but she was also pretty sure she could beat me. So she bared her teeth, seemed ready to pounce as she backed away from me, collecting her clothes.
“I should’ve known,” she said. “Should’ve known, you son of a bitch.”
“Just drink the fucking wine, would you?”
“So you can flay me open and play with my spleen?”
“You don’t understand.” I took a few steps towards her, backing her into the small space between bed and wall. “I don’t want to hurt you at all. But I don’t trust you.”
“Oh? You don’t trust me, Mr. Drink the Fucking Wine?”
“That’s not it.”
“I’ll bite you. I’ll stab my nails
through your ballsack.”
“C’mon. A few sips.”
I went at her again, sacrificing protection to grab her cheeks with one hand and take a chance at splashing wine into her mouth. She closed her lips and blew her cheeks wide, scratched me with her claws. I pressed hard on her cheeks like a balloon, got them open again, and send half the wine flying. I’m sure a good half-teaspoon actually got past her teeth, but then she started spitting. Another slash from her fingernails. I skipped back to avoid them. She hopped onto the bed and went around me, pulling on her dress at the same time. Heading for the door. Oh shit.
What was I going to do? Go after her? Stark raving naked? I lunged, tried to grab her arm before she got to the door. Missed and fell.
“No, don’t, please, God.”
She looked down at me, sneered, but was frantically working the deadbolt and the handled while trying to shimmy her dress down over her ass.
“Alice, wait, I can explain.”
“Fuck off! You…you…rapist!”
I flinched. Not that, please. I was far from that. But what else could you call it?
She flung the door wide open and started out but ran right into Jennings, blocking the doorway. He gave her a shove and she fell on her ass, not far from my face. He closed the door and then straddled Alice. She was crying by then, shrieking, and Jennings pinned her down with his knees on each side and covered her mouth.
He said, “Where are the pills?”
“I dissolved some in the wine. I thought—”
“Give me the pills. The real pills. Come on.”
So I got up. Wondered if he was checking me out all naked. But it wasn’t the time or place, and he wasn’t anyway, and you know, I felt a little disappointed in that, but I still wrapped the sheet around my waist before I got the pills. Three of them left in a sandwich bag in my pocket. I shook them out of the bag. Palm shaking, the pills bouncing all over. I close my fingers around them and turned back to Jennings and Alice.
Jennings was remarkably strong, holding her down so that only her legs kicked wildly, not near enough to buck him off. Head steady in place. Her eyes were streaming, squinty.
He held out his hand. “Hurry already, Mick. We’re fucked enough as it is.”
Hard to argue with that. I dropped the pills into his palm. He cupped them, shook them like dice. Then pointed a finger in Alice’s face.
“Listen, we’re not going to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you. But you have a big problem with keeping your mouth shut. So all we’re going to do is hide you for the time being. Is that okay?”
She shook her head.
“You don’t get it, hon. This is happening. Either you take these pills on your own, or I’m going to help you get them down very uncomfortably.”
I thought she relaxed a little at that. Resigned, maybe. She cut a look towards me, and I realized I was wrapped in a sheet, more worried about my wang hanging out than about her safety. Oh yeah, that would endear me to her. I was thinking of how this would end, with her calling the police. What had originally kind of been her idea was suddenly rape and imprisonment. She would have dope in her blood, my semen in her vagina, and both Jennings’ and my DNA all over her. I’d become the very type of person I reviled most.
I said, “Jennings…”
He turned his head towards me. Eyebrows high, waiting.
And if I were to tell him we should stop, let her go, and give up? Would that make it better? Would Alice listen to my explanation, see the logic of it, god help me, and maybe even agree to pitch in on our side?
Didn’t I try something like that already?
Jennings said, “Well?”
She was watching me, too. Like it all depended on what I did next. Did I want her to forgive me? Be afraid of me? Or at least respect me for having the balls she thought I’d lacked?
I stood from the bed, let the sheet fall off. I was still limp and spent from the fucking, but something about this moment, about me, not Alice, had my blood flowing enough to give my cock some thickness.
I said, “I’ll get her some water.”
*
We waited until she was mostly unconscious before even talking about the next move. As soon as Jennings’ hand had come off her mouth, she bared teeth and started biting. She didn’t get him. Once she started trying to yell for help. he cupped his hand under her chin and pushed it closed. He palmed the pills and shoved them past her lips, covered her nose, and waited until she swallowed. The coughing started, and Jennings took the water I’d brought and held it for her while she drank.
After another ten minutes of keeping her bound and quiet, the pills kicked in. My hands had been balled into fists the whole time, angry crescents of fingernails cutting my skin. I got dressed and collapsed into a chair while Jennings lifted Alice like she barely weighed a thing and laid her on the bed.
Not my finest hour, I could assure you. My stomach was fluttery and the sweat rolled off like I was in a sauna. The surprise was Jennings. I’d already admired how he barged in and took control without wavering, but to see him all business while Alice snored on the bed was chilling. He was on the phone with Octavia, talking low. I made out, “She’s down” and “That’s going to take some kind of miracle”, but the rest of the conversation was a mystery, and he wasn’t telling once he hung up. I again wondered just what he’d done for her that might be worse than this.
Jennings said, “We have to get her into the car.”
He called Octavia’s monstrous SUV “the car” as if that’s what everyone drove. A souped-up American luxury tank.
“And how do we do that?”
“We carry her.”
“Like luggage?”
He puffed his chest out, made a funny mouth. “What did you think the plan was? Ask her nicely? You‘re the one who brought the pills.”
“Okay.”
He walked over to the sliding glass door and peeked around the curtain. “Probably best to go right through here.”
I must not have answered quickly enough. Way out in the fields of my mind, trying to make sense of it all. And suddenly Jennings had grabbed the armrests on my chair and was in my face.
“Hey! Remember, this is all for your benefit. You were gung ho. At any time you could’ve cut the cord and ended this before it even started. But no, you wanted some afternoon delight. We’re doing this because you want to keep your house, right?”
I opened my mouth. Nothing to say. Nodded.
“Then go outside, check to make sure no one’s looking. Wave to me when the coast is clear.”
“Won’t I look suspicious?”
“Smoke a cigarette or something.”
“But I don’t smoke.”
“Mick!”
So I was out the door. I was already sapped of strength, and the sun made it worse. I was spaghetti. Must’ve looked a bit like a hippie at Woodstock with all the swaying. Worse, the reflections off the cars had me squinting, trying to get a view through my own eyelashes.
For a brief moment I forgot why I was outside. It was some kids jumping out of the church van a handful of spots away, the guys jumping and howling, the girls hugging pillows, that refocused me. Their youth leader, I suppose, hopped out of the driver’s seat in his cargo shorts, flip-flops, and T-shirt tucked in. All the shirts had the same logo, marking them as Eau Clare Lutherans, but the other print was too small to read.
I looked up at the outside wall of the hotel, checking for people looking down on me. While plenty of curtains were open, no one stood there watching. And that only made sense—did anyone look out of hotel windows much? Maybe that was why so much could happen in hotels—illicit sex, drug deals, murders—in veritable secret. Everyone ignores everyone else in hotels. When we’re there we all want to be anonymous. Even if we did see nefarious goings on, why risk being singled out as the one who noticed?
So once the church van had emptied and the group filed inside, and once I confirmed that, indeed, no one gave a shit about the parking lo
t, I opened the back doors of the SUV and waved Jennings out.
He came through the door sideways with Alice in his arms like he was a dashing action hero saving her from a fire. Quick steps, no wavering. Not like she weighed that much, but still, this was Jennings. Not because he was gay or anything. Absolutely not. But because of the way he carried himself most days—fashionista, up on culture, jetsetter. I guess he just hid this side of himself until it became absolutely necessary.
Jennings eased Alice onto the floor of the SUV. She didn’t stir. He muscled me out of the way and closed the doors. I was still standing there gawking. But once I got a glimpse of my reflection in the tinted windows, I had to steady myself with an outstretched hand against the glass.
Jennings pulled the keys from his pocket. “Mick? Will you be okay?”
“Fine, fine.”
“So you stay here until time for dinner. Then, check out. Keep the sex smell strong in there, so they’ll think, you know, what they want to think.”
I nodded, couldn’t look him in the eye.
“Say it.”
“It’s a mistake. We shouldn’t have.”
“Yeah, I agree. But this is what I do now, whatever Octavia tells me to. She told me to help you, so I did. And it’s a tiny little bit too late to explain it that way to Miss Thing in here.” He slapped the back door and said, “See you tonight.”
I shrugged. He didn’t care. He walked around to the driver’s seat and climbed in. Pulled away. Left me with my hands in my pockets, sweating from the intense sun but still cold all over. I turned to walk back into my room when I noticed the sliding door of the van was open, and the top half of someone’s head was visible, watching me.
Oh shit. Shit. Shit. And a church kid too. A goody two shoes. My stomach tightened and I stopped breathing for a moment. Before I could stop myself, I took a few steps towards the van.
What would I say? My friend had gotten sick and needed a lift home? I mean, that was no ambulance or cab we were putting her into. Or just threaten the kid, perhaps. Pull a You didn’t see anything here wink and nod. Maybe she’d already clicked a picture with her cell phone. Maybe it would be all over Twitter or Facebook or wherever the hell these kids hung out online anymore.
Choke on Your Lies Page 14