by Silke Ming
“How did she get there? Did Toby bring her?”
“A young man brought her here, but I can’t remember his name.”
“All right, Millie. Thank you. I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Have you eaten?”
“I’m not hungry, Millie. Go on home.”
Memories of the New York City exhibition ran through his mind. How different things were back then. He thought of the ride in the limo back to Whitney. How they had enjoyed each other’s company and bodies. Today there was no Summer beside him and no Summer waiting for him when he arrived home. How could he have screwed things up so badly?
He thought of Lana Podesta and wondered how he was going to get even with her. Why had she done that to him? He knew the answer. Didn’t their years of friendship mean anything? She knew that one day he might have found someone and she would’ve been relegated to his past. She was selfish and greedy. He had to find a way to get even with her. If Summer did not show up by the end of the evening, he was as sure as hell going to find a way. As the limo passed through the town of Whitney, he was tempted to go to Toby’s apartment, but decided he should go home instead and wait for her there. When the limo turned into the driveway, he silently prayed that she would be there. The Audi was still parked behind the SUV, but there was no sign of life in the house. When he walked in, the house felt empty. The painting of his father hanging on the second floor stared down at him. He felt as if he was being chastised. He went to the bedroom on the first floor, where he could still smell her perfume, feel her presence. He opened the closet and found that some of her clothes were still hanging there. That gave him hope. He knew he would see her again, and he hoped it would be soon. He pulled one of her blouses out, put it to his nose, and inhaled deeply. He felt her closeness and he wanted her. Just thinking about her made his manhood stiffen in his trousers. That was the effect Summer had on him. He climbed the stairs and went to their bedroom. He ran his fingers along her pillow then pulled it to him and squeezed it tightly. His focus was Summer and only Summer. Her smell was even stronger as he dug his head into her pillow. Then he remembered the pencil drawing he had made of her in Miami. He took it from the briefcase and spread it across the bed. He stared at it and ran his finger along the curves of her body.
How I miss you, Summer, he said, staring at the drawing.
The stiffness in his trousers was now even more prominent. She would’ve given him relief from the lingering stiffness in his groin. He missed her touch. He missed her lips and her sweetness. He reached down and rubbed his hand along his fly. Not getting the satisfaction he needed, he pulled his zipper down and removed his cock. He lay across the bed and began stroking himself. The more he stroked it, the more pleasurable he felt. He pictured Summer with her hands around it. He pictured her sitting astride him and fucking him. As the blood pounded in his veins, his eyes closed tightly and his hand moved faster and faster until his body exploded. He came with one hand working away ferociously on his cock and the other grabbing and squeezing her pillow. Aftershocks rippled through his body, leaving him tired and spent. When it was all over, he felt lonelier than before. He lay across the bed, his heart filled with sorrow. He wasn’t going to give up and decided to call Toby’s number. The cell phone went to voicemail. He called Summer’s cell phone number and that, too, went to voicemail.
He was still lying across the bed, his mind in a whirl when his phone started to ring, and thinking it was Summer, he picked up on the first ring.
“Seamus, have you found her?” asked Lana Podesta.
He was about to end the call when he thought better of it. He would pay Lana back for the injustice that she had meted out to him.
“No, Lana. I have no idea where she is.”
Hearing the low tone in his voice, she concluded that he was no longer angry with her and immediately invited herself over.
“How soon will you be here?” he asked.
“In about half an hour,” she said, her voice filled with expectation.
He knew what he would do to her. He must get even with her. He went to the kitchen where he poured himself a glass of red wine and swallowed it in one gulp. He then slowly climbed the stairs to the studio and walked into the secret room. It felt empty without Summer. He lifted the paintings from the straps and leaned them up against the wall. He heard the doorbell ring and ran down the stairs to open the door. There she stood, her bright-red lips parted in a smile.
“How are you, Lana?”
“Better than you are,” she said, pretending to be sympathetic to his plight.
“Have you eaten?” she asked.
“I have no appetite, Lana. I cannot tell you how frustrated I feel.”
“I can make you feel better if you let me,” she said circling him.
“Nothing can make me feel better, Lana. Nothing! I wonder why Marianna decided at this time to wreck my life.”
“These things happen sometimes without reason, Seamus.”
“It is the timing which bothers me.”
“It makes no sense wondering about that. It will only make you feel worse.”
“That’s not possible. I couldn’t feel any worse.”
“Let me help you,” she said. “In a matter of minutes you will feel like a new man.”
“Then help me, Lana. Please help me.”
She stared at him. He was really deeper in the dumps than she had thought. This would really take patience and expertise.
“Relax,” she said, kneeling in front of him and opening the buttons of her blouse.
She reached for his hand and put it against her breast. His thoughts immediately went to Summer. He squeezed it roughly, kneading it, as she closed her eyes tightly, seemingly enjoying it.
“Are you feeling better?” she asked, softly smiling at him.
“Yes,” he whispered.
She ran her hand up and down on the front of his jeans until she could feel his cock swelling beneath the material. She pulled his zipper down and stared at the magnificent beast, and a smile crossed her lips.
“I’m going to make you forget about Summer,” she said, using her tongue to flick away the glistening drop of essence from the tip of his cock.
He was immediately aroused, and his body rose to meet her lips. He watched as she covered him with her two red lips, giving him the feeling that his prick was stuck in a suction capsule. She stared at him, unblinking, as she licked the crown and slowly reinserted his cock deeper into her mouth. In spite of the fact that he despised her, she had succeeded in turning him on. His hips moved to the caresses of her lips, and with his mind still on Summer, he was soon spouting his juices into her mouth, while she continued to milk his throbbing shaft.
“Do you feel better?” she asked when she came up for air.
“Yes. Let’s go upstairs,” he said, his dick still protruding through his fly.
She eagerly followed him and was surprised when he didn’t enter the bedroom on the second floor.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“You’ll see,” he said.
She was now eager to see what he was going to do. They passed through the door of the secret room, and he pushed her against the wall, pulled her breasts out, and roughly fondled them with both hands.
“Oh, Seamus, that’s so good,” she shouted, squirming and covering his hands with hers.
“Come,” he said, leading her to the wall beneath the leather clasps. “Take your clothes off.”
She quickly dropped her dress to the floor and waited in her bikini underwear and her half-cut bra, with her breasts hanging out below it.
“Remove everything,” he said sternly.
He stared at her naked body, and wished he didn’t have to touch her. He hated it and he hated her. He hated her deceit and her domineering ways.
“Open your legs,” he whispered, and she readily agreed.
He bent down and shackled one leg while she played with his hair. He did the same with the other leg and sto
od up. He ran a finger between her legs and felt her clit throb. Her hands were now fastened above her head as he circled her strung-up body. It was not Summer’s luscious body, but he didn’t want Summer at that moment. He was going to level the playing field.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“This is so exciting, Seamus. I want you to touch me.”
“You do?” he asked as he ran his finger between her legs one more time. “I’m going to drive you crazy, Lana.”
Her body stiffened, and she begged for more. He stuck a finger between her lips.
“Suck,” he commanded.
Her greedy red lips sucked hard as he rotated the finger inside her mouth. He pulled it out and ran it one more time between her legs.
“Ohhhhh,” she whispered forming an O with her lips. “I want more, Seamus. I want more.”
“You must be patient, Lana,” he said, rubbing his fingers around her taut nipples. “It’s good, isn’t it, Lana?”
“Yes, Seamus. I want you, Seamus. I want you to do me like you used to before.”
“Oh yes, Lana. You are hot. I don’t want you to come yet.”
“Touch me, Seamus. Touch me.”
“Where do you want me to touch you?” he asked as he inserted two fingers deep inside her, making her body shiver.
“Oh, Seamus, I feel so good.”
He moved away from her and sat in front of her. His cock, still hanging outside his fly, was almost erect again. He stroked it, and she stared at it. He continued to stare at her enticingly as he pumped it up and down.
“Don’t torture me, Seamus. I really want you.”
“Do you really want me, Lana?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then you must beg me to fuck you,” he said, stroking his massive erection.
“Yes, yes! Please fuck me, Seamus.”
“I can’t hear you,” he said. “Say it like you mean it.”
“I want you to fuck me,” she shouted.
He stood up and faced her. He pushed two fingers inside her, and she started to wiggle. He quickly removed them. She was beside herself and kept begging, but Seamus only teased her, giving her a quick touch and then retreating from her.
“I just can’t take anymore, Seamus. You are driving me crazy.”
“I know I am, but I don’t want to you to come yet.”
He circled her and ran his finger between the crack in her cheeks, and her hips gyrated. He stopped and started again and stopped and started again. Tears now ran down Lana’s cheeks. He looked at his watch. It was one hour and fifteen minutes since he had started teasing her. By his calculation he still had another thirty minutes to torture her body and her mind.
He sat again across from her and fondled himself. He looked at her. Such a pitiful sight! He walked up to her and gently massaged her breasts. They were not the same as Summer’s big and luscious breasts, but they would do. He licked two fingers and circled her nipples with them, then shoved them roughly into her mouth while massaging her clit with two more fingers. Euphoria overtook her body, and every part of her body tingled. Her hips moved to the circling motion of the fingers on her clit.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“As if I’m going mad,” she said, squirming.
“Just a few more minutes,” he said, glancing at his watch.
He massaged her again between her legs, and she bucked and gyrated.
“I’m coming,” she said, moving even faster.
He suddenly stopped and removed his fingers from her clit.
“Don’t stop, Seamus. Please. I was coming,” she pleaded.
He bent down and removed the clasp from one leg and then from the other. Then he freed her hands.
“Let’s go,” he said, picking up her clothes.
She followed him down the stairs, and was surprised when he went past the bedroom, but she was undaunted, because she knew she would be soon in his arms.
“I feel as if I’m about to explode. Hurry, Seamus. I want to feel you deep inside me.”
“Sit,” he ordered her.
He positioned himself in front of her and offered her his throbbing, swollen cock. She took it between her lips, rubbing the head on the tip of her tongue, and once inside her mouth, she worked it slowly back and forth. Unable to control himself, his hips started to move, slowly at first, and then he gathered speed. She put her hand between her legs, but he dragged them away and pinned them above her head. He bucked and gyrated, all the while calling out Summer’s name. His body rocked with the last spasms that tore through his body, and he emptied himself down her throat.
After he had regained his composure, he looked down at her. No longer wanting to see her face, he picked up her clothing, walked to the door, and opened it. Then he asked her to leave, handing her the clothing as stepped out the door, totally naked. Her body shook from the cold as she hurried to climb into her car.
“You conspired with Marianna to get rid of Summer. She heard your conversation while you were in the bathroom. I feel sorry for you, Lana,” he said calmly.
“You will pay for this,” she shouted as he closed the door, leaving her in the dark driveway.
He threw himself onto the sofa and, looking up, saw his father’s face looking down on him.
“Shut up,” he shouted at the painting.
I must remember to move that portrait up to the gallery, he thought.
It was the same face that had repeatedly chastised him as a child. He did not hate him, but neither did he love him. His body felt weary, and he closed his eyes and fell asleep on the couch.
Chapter Thirty-One
Seamus awoke and reached out, but he was alone and still on the couch. He had spent the night there. He looked at his watch. It was only six thirty and his first thought was to call Summer, but it was still too early. He got up and showered the remnants of Lana Podesta from his body. He felt lost without Summer. He thought of the things they would have done at that hour on a Sunday morning. He climbed the stairs and looked out the porthole. The weather was the same as his mood. Grey! He decided he would call her. He dialled the number and she picked up.
“Summer, where are you?” he shouted, surprised on hearing her voice.
“On my way to Boston!”
“How are you getting there?”
“I’m on a bus.”
“I’m coming to get you, Summer. I feel so lost and alone without you. This is the last time I will ever ask for your forgiveness, I promise. I will never again do anything to hurt you.”
“Seamus, why do you think I’m going to Boston?” she whispered.
“Has it anything to do with the job at the university?”
“Yes it does.”
“You don’t need a job at the university, Summer. You don’t need a job. I would like you to be my wife, when I finally get my divorce,” he said.
“Seamus, I cannot give you an answer right now. I need time to think.”
“I will do whatever you ask of me. Just give me another chance, Summer,” he pleaded.
“I will call you after the interview and let you know my decision.”
“At least you are giving me hope. What time is your interview?”
“At ten thirty on Monday morning.”
“May I call you later? If you’re not here with me, at least I can still hear your voice,” he begged her.
“Good-bye, Seamus. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
He got off the phone with renewed hope. At least she didn’t say no to him. He decided to make an appointment to see his lawyer the following morning. He had to show her that he was serious about her and not just trying to recapture her heart, and he made up his mind that he would be completely honest with her. He would tell her what he had done to Lana before she had the chance to use it against him. He pondered for a moment. Should he really tell her about Lana? After all, he did enjoy it.
At nine o’clock he had breakfast. It seemed as if she was giving him another chance, and it had helpe
d him to regain a bit of his appetite. Millie had made breakfast buns and left them on the table for him. He searched for the strawberry jam but couldn’t find it. The last time he had touched the jar was the night when he and Summer had made love in the secret room. Memories of that night brought a smile to his face. He hoped she would give him another chance to make her happy. He found the jam in the back of the fridge and set it down beside the buns and ate his breakfast.
* * * *
Monday morning at nine forty-five, Seamus was in Whitney on his lawyer’s doorstep. He didn’t have an appointment and had to wait for an hour. He knew that Summer would probably waiting for her interview, so it wouldn’t be a good time to call her. He had no idea how long the interview would last, but he wanted to hear her voice again.
At eleven o’clock, he was sitting in front of his lawyer.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” the lawyer asked.
“If there is anything I’m absolutely sure of, this is it,” he said, glancing at his watch.
“You seem to be in a dreadful hurry, Seamus.”
“I am,” he replied.
The lawyer stared at him.
“Don’t worry. I am absolutely sure of what I’m doing.”
He checked his watch again. It was twelve fifteen. He dialled Summer’s number and she answered.
“Hello, Summer.”
“Hello, Seamus.”
He was afraid. She seemed cold and distant.
“How did the interview go?”
“It went very well, but there will be a second one,” she said.
“What does that mean? That you will be staying there until you get the second interview?” he asked, fear building in his voice.
“No, I left in a hurry and did not bring enough clothing.”
“Why don’t you come home, and I’ll take you back for the second interview?”
“I don’t know, Seamus. I am so confused.”
“Summer, why don’t you go shopping, and I will come and get you? That will give you something to do while I’m on my way there. Where should we meet?” he asked, his heart pounding.
She was silent for a few moments, and his heart sank.