by Lisa King
“Come over here and I’ll pinch you.”
He sat down next to her and kissed her hungrily. His braces were hardly noticeable. She could tell he was nervous—he was awkward, tentative, and his hands trembled as he touched her. “Relax,” she said, pulling off his Zorro T-shirt. “I know you’ve done this before.”
“This is different.” He stood and shed his pants and boxers, then lay down, moaning aloud at the feel of her body against his.
Jean ran her hands along his lean contours, liking the way he smelled, the way he felt, his newness and strangeness. She combed her fingers through the thatch of curly red hair on his chest. His pale rangy shape was so different from Peter’s dark bulkiness, and she was surprised by the strength of her response to him. This seemed more and more like a really great idea. “Zeppo,” she whispered, “you feel so good.”
“So do you, Jeannie.”
Jean knew he was excited enough to have a hair trigger, so she didn’t waste any time. She unrolled a condom over his erection, and then he was inside her. They began to move together and, as she expected, he came almost at once.
“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” he said as he lay next to her, dropping the condom into a bedside trash can.
“It’s OK. We have all night.”
“I’ve been fantasizing about this for so long I got ahead of myself. I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing,” she said gently. “Relax.”
He rolled on his side so he could stroke her. “You’re absolutely beautiful. This is unbelievable. Do you know how long I’ve been jacking off thinking about you?”
“I have some idea.”
His big hand moved over her, his touch not too rough, not too gentle. “I never thought this would happen. I figured I’d have to be content with just spending all this time together.”
Jean sighed as he fondled her in all the right places, as if he were working from a really good map. “Don’t be so amazed,” she said. “I just had to get to know you. Besides, after Gwen told me how oversexed you are, I had to see for myself.”
“Gwen! What does she know about it?”
“Her friend who dated you complained. Polly. You were too much for her.” Jean felt dizzy with desire, but didn’t want to rush him.
“Yeah, she thought I was a sex fiend. But I’m not so bad. Just healthy.”
“I’ll bet most women like you fine.” As his hand moved to her breasts, she wondered if she could have an orgasm without being touched below the waist. She’d only done that once.
He looked sheepish. “Well, I haven’t actually had very many lovers, and none for very long. I always worry that if I tell them stuff, it’ll be adios, psycho.”
“That’s no way to live.” She couldn’t believe what he was doing to her.
“It feels great not having any secrets. I’ve never been with a woman who knew the whole truth. I’m glad it was you who found out.” He leaned over and gave her a gentle kiss.
She pulled him down and kissed him fiercely. She needn’t have worried; as she caressed him, he stiffened against her immediately, finally realizing how aroused she was. “Hang on, Jeannie,” he said as he took a condom out of the box and put it on.
She moved under him, guiding him in, losing herself completely, and this time it was Jean who came almost at once.
CHAPTER 25
As they lay close together in the narrow bed, Jean stretched happily, her whole body still throbbing with pleasure. After his initial case of nerves subsided, Zeppo was a revelation. His awkwardness fell away in bed. He was passionate, playful, intensely considerate, and in a perpetual state of high arousal. His healthy, uncomplicated sexuality made her doubly certain of his innocence. In coitus veritas, she thought with a smile.
The digital clock on the nightstand said two twentyfour. It didn’t matter—today was Sunday. Zeppo lay on his stomach, his face turned away from her, as still as a dead man. She hated to disturb him, but there was so much she wanted to know.
“Zeppo, are you awake?”
“Barely. What’s left of me.”
“Who was Jay Zeppetello?”
He turned his face toward her. “He was born ten days after me in Manhattan. That’s how Martin got on to me—I screwed up and wrote June 5th on one form and June 15th on another. The kid died in a car wreck when he was eight months old. I liked the name, and it was more fun being Italian than Dutch. The bike messengers called me Zeppo, and I liked that, too.”
“Do you want me to call you Michael?”
“God, no. Only Hannah calls me that. It makes me think of my family and the nut house, which I don’t want to do.”
Jean stroked his back with her fingertips. She had turned off the bedside lamp, and in the faint light that filtered through the curtains her hand looked dark against his skin. She traced the cycling muscles in his ass and thighs, laughing.
“What’s funny?” he said.
“I was thinking about how hard I tried to discourage you.”
“You couldn’t do it, could you?”
“No, and I’m glad. Were you too shy to say anything to me? Anything serious, I mean.”
“Nah, I knew you’d shoot me down. You made that pretty clear. So I figured I’d skip the rejection. Besides, you were with Peter. Even if you did go out with me, there’d be the same old problem—you’d want to know about me and I couldn’t tell you anything.”
“Sorry I was so hard on you, Zeppo.”
“That’s OK. You’re doing a good job of making up for it.”
“Now will you tell me the rest of the names in the blue box?”
He looked at her with alarm. “You know I can’t. Ask me anything but that.”
Jean laughed and whacked his ass. “Relax, I’m kidding.”
Zeppo rolled over toward her. “Tell me something, Jeannie. Did you come over here planning to do this?”
“I didn’t have a plan. I simply wanted to tell you I found out what happened, and that I knew you didn’t kill her.”
“That’s the thing I can’t get over—you’re the only one who ever assumed I was innocent. Hannah and Martin had to be convinced. Even my lawyer thought I was guilty. But not you. I’ll never forget that.” Zeppo pulled her closer and she felt the heat rise, as if he’d thrown a switch.
“Where did you learn to touch a woman like this?” she asked, melting under his hands.
“I don’t know. I just always imagined touching you this way. I guess it works, huh?”
“Yes, it works.” She closed her eyes, and soon she was lost again.
LATER THEY lay with his long frame curved against her back, his hand on one of her breasts. “How’d you figure it out, anyway?” he asked. “It only took you a day. Very impressive.”
“Well, it had to be in the papers—you said you didn’t want any more publicity. I can hear a New England accent sometimes when you talk, you know all about lobsters, and you’re a Celtics fan. I didn’t have enough information for a web search, so I went to the library and spent all day looking at the Boston Globe on microfiche.”
He pushed himself up on his elbow. “Hey, you’re turning into a real detective. How’d you know when?”
“You said you didn’t go to a regular high school, so I figured it probably happened around age fourteen. I started in 2000, looking for something like ‘Teen Burns Down Prep School’ or ‘Local Boy Sodomizes Sheep’ buried on a back page. But there you were, on the front page above the fold, the day after Christmas 2002.”
“Did you remember the story? It had everything—beautiful young female stabbed to death on Christmas day by deranged teen from wealthy family. It was in the national news the whole time.”
“No, I was knocking around South America back then. I spent that Christmas in a youth hostel in Buenos Aires.”
“I’m glad you missed it. Some asshole reporter called me the Cheswick Ripper.”
“Yeah, I read that. I followed the story until you were acquitted, and then I thought things over, and
then I came here.”
“And the rest is history.” Zeppo rolled onto his stomach and put his arm over her. She’d almost dozed off when he spoke again. “Hey, Jeannie? Remember when I told you there were more important things in life than getting laid?”
“I remember.”
“Well, you’ve changed my mind.” He was asleep before she could answer.
JEAN WOKE before Zeppo and studied him in the midmorning light. He slept on his stomach, and his face was turned toward her. He would never be handsome—he had too much nose and not quite enough chin—but his red-blond lashes were thick and long.
He woke and smiled at her. His eyes were pretty, a light greenish-blue with a dark blue border around the iris. If he wore contact lenses, grew his hair out, got his braces off, and bought some stylish clothes, who knew? She’d have to work on it.
“Good morning, Zeppo.”
“Good morning, gorgeous.” He yawned and stretched, his legs hanging over the edge of the bed, and gave her a kiss. “I haven’t slept this well in as long as I can remember. Just a minute.” He hopped out of bed and went into the bathroom, where she heard him moving around. Time passed, and finally he exclaimed, “Goddammit!”
“What’s the matter?”
“I can’t piss with this hard-on.”
She laughed. “Men are so poorly designed. Think about Dick Cheney in a thong.”
After a few seconds she heard him urinating.
“That worked,” he said as he got back into bed. “Of course, I may never get it up again.”
“Somehow I can’t see impotence ever being a problem for you. Hey, I did more detecting yesterday. I asked Diane if Frank could be her father.” Jean told him about the blood tests.
“So if Frank is searching for Diane’s real birth certificate with his name on it, we still have to explain the incompatible blood types,” Zeppo said. “I did some detecting, too. I ran the license plate from the Jeep. Someone from Ukiah reported it stolen in Mendocino early that morning. Also, I made an appointment to see Frank at his office on Tuesday.”
They lay close together in companionable silence. “Jeannie,” Zeppo said after a while, “I know you won’t like it if I get all sentimental, but I want to thank you. This is one of the few times in my whole fucked-up life I got something I really wanted.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Zeppo. Can’t you tell I’m having as much fun as you are?”
“Oh yeah, I can tell. It’s hard to miss, all the noise you make.”
“A girl has a right to express herself. Anyway, I can’t help it.”
“I think it’s great, a real turn-on.” He kissed her neck, giving her goose bumps. “Everything about you is a turnon.” They made love again, Jean straddling him, and soon Zeppo had fallen back to sleep.
Jean slipped out of bed and took a shower. Her arm was healing rapidly, so rather than wake him, she decided to go without bandages. As she tiptoed toward the door, Zeppo called her name. She came back and sat on the bed.
“You leaving?” he said.
“Yeah. Peter will be going nuts by now. He hates it when he can’t find me.”
“OK, if you’ve gotta. So what’s the deal? This isn’t just a one-time thing, is it? I’m not trying to push you, but I’d love to do it again.”
“You big dope, of course it’s not a one-time thing. Let me recover for a couple of days and then you can come to my place. I’ve got a bigger bed.”
“A couple of days? How about tonight?”
“Have mercy—I’m only human. And I still have to deal with Peter.”
“Why tell him?”
“He’ll know anyway. He always notices when I’ve been having great sex with someone besides him.”
He reached up and brushed the long side of her hair off her face. “Did you have great sex last night?”
“How did it feel to you?”
“Are you kidding? This is the best time I ever had in my whole life.”
“Oh Zeppo. Yes, I had great sex. You surprised me all night. It turns out we’re highly compatible, sexually speaking.”
“I knew we were compatible the first time I met you, but you wouldn’t listen.” He pulled her close and put his hands under her sweatshirt.
“Oh no, I’m too sore,” she protested.
“Then we’ll do something else.” He took off her sweatshirt.
“I have to go home.”
“Stay awhile.” Her jeans were tight and he had trouble getting them down.
Jean stood and took them off. “Polly’s right,” she said as he pulled her back onto the bed. “You are a sex fiend.”
CHAPTER 26
In a moment of weakness, Jean promised Zeppo they’d get together the next day. They agreed that before then Zeppo would talk to Rudy and she would arrange to see Simon Emory. He bandaged her arm and she drove home.
Walking to her apartment, singing under her breath, Jean noticed Peter’s Saab parked just down the street. She stopped singing. He’d come over to wait for her—this was going to be worse than she’d thought. She paused at the downstairs door to consider her options. There was nothing to do but get it over with. She went up the stairs.
The apartment smelled of coffee and she could hear Peter in the kitchen. At her desk she saw several phone messages waiting.
He came in behind her. “Don’t bother with those. They’re all from me.”
“Hello, Peter,” she said without turning around. “What a nice surprise.”
“Where have you been?” he demanded, an ominous chill in his voice. “I was really worried about you. We were supposed to have dinner together, remember?”
“I’m sorry. I forgot.”
“Tell me where you were.”
She turned around. “I was out.”
“I knew it. Look at your face. You’ve been with a man, haven’t you?”
“Peter—”
“Who was it this time?” he said, his voice rising in anger. “An old boyfriend or someone you just picked up?”
She sighed with resignation, knowing she was a terrible liar and knowing he’d find out anyway. “It’s Zeppo.”
“Zeppo! You can’t be serious. You slept with . . . what do you call him? The weasel?” He was angrier than she’d ever seen him.
“That was before I got to know him. He’s really an interesting man.”
“And that’s a reason to fuck him?”
“The reasons were complex.”
“Oh Jean, I know you’ve cheated on me before, but this is too much!”
“Don’t accuse me of cheating. I’ve never promised you anything.”
“But you know I hate it and you don’t care. I don’t even exist if I’m not in the same room with you. All that matters is whatever new man is trying to get at that body of yours!”
“Try to remember that it’s my body and I’ll decide who gets at it.”
“You can’t go through life like this, Jean. People just can’t jump into bed with whoever they want, regardless of the consequences.”
“There wouldn’t be any consequences if you weren’t so jealous and possessive!”
“You think I’m possessive? How many times have I sucked it up when you cheated? How many times have I tried to ignore my own feelings?” He shook his head. “I can’t imagine how you keep us all straight. How many times have you called out the wrong name?”
“I’ve never called out the wrong name! I may have other lovers, but when I’m with you I’m all there, Peter, a hundred percent.”
“So I get your full attention only when I’m fucking you, is that it?” He stepped close to her, his voice choked with emotion. “Jean, I can’t stand this. I give you everything, but it’s not enough. You go after some horny kid just to feed your ego.”
“It had nothing to do with my ego!”
“What else is this about?” He gripped her upper arms too tightly, hurting her scrape. “You want to see how many men you can string along, how much shit you can make me e
at!” He was so angry she thought he’d strike her.
“Don’t you dare,” she said in a low voice.
He let go and turned away. “I’m not going to hit you,” he said wearily.
Jean took a breath. “Despite what you think, I never intended to cause you pain. I’ve been as faithful to you as I can be. Monogamy isn’t in my nature, and you’ve always known that.”
Peter looked at her sadly. “You’re thirty-two years old. What’s going to happen when you’re forty-two? Or fiftytwo? Do you think you can live this way when you’re middle-aged?”
“Ask me then.”
“Why am I arguing?” he said. “You’ll never change, and I should have seen that long ago. But I was in love with you, and I thought that would make a difference.”
“Oh Peter—”
“Here are your keys. I’ve taken my things out of your closet and there’s a bag of your clothes by the door. Goodbye, Jean. I won’t be back.” He walked out and shut the door behind him.
CHAPTER 27
Jean wanted to go after him, but didn’t. If she called him back it would just happen again, and she hadn’t the heart to hurt him anymore. She stared at the Brooks Brothers shopping bag near the door. So he had come here knowing she was with someone else, intending to end it. She was sorry she’d hurt him, sorry he’d spent a bad night waiting for her, sorry she’d made this calm, controlled man so angry he’d nearly hit her.
She erased the phone messages without listening to them. Would she still have slept with Zeppo if she’d known what it would cost her? She knew it was the wrong answer, but she wouldn’t have missed last night for the world.