Love Lust

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by Unknown


  Dr. Santos agreed to meet us at the nearest Dunkin Donuts.

  “What is your deal?” Paula said, backing the car up.

  “Nothing. You can’t blame me for being skeptical.”

  “No, I can’t. But I am surprised. His theory actually falls right in line with yours. Only a little more in depth.”

  “How in depth?”

  “I won’t begin to try to explain. One, you won’t believe me. Two, I’ll probably screw a part up.”

  I exhaled loudly and flipped on the radio. Smoothing back my hair, I closed my eyes and tried to relax. I knew I was overreacting. A few deep breaths would certainly get me back to my normal, rational, optimistic self. The music helped. I loved U2. Especially this song. I’d never heard the acoustic version, either. Had I? In fact, weirdly, it was familiar. Oh, yeah. Justin had performed it at Java Jungle, his voice even more melodic than—wait a minute.

  I opened my eyes and reached to turn it up. Paula got there first, switching the station.

  “Hey!”

  “What? I can’t stand U2.”

  My heart beat harder. “That wasn’t U2.” Shit. I hit each numbered button. Heavy metal, pop, country. Shit, shit, shit. My mind rapidly puzzled the pieces together. The car, the driver, the suite. His condo. Why would he go to an open mic night?

  No. It couldn’t be. I was getting a little crazy over him, scared that things were going too easily, that he liked me so readily. That my lust might already be hooked on him. If no one else would do, rejection could put me into who knew what kind of pain and withdrawal. I hit scan, crossing my fingers that the song wouldn’t be over.

  What the hell would a guy like that do with someone like me? A succubus. A nobody.

  Paula pulled to a stop, eyeing me warily. “I’m the neurotic one, remember, Liv?”

  I gave up. She was right. I had to pull it together.

  The smell of donuts filled the narrow café. I focused on coffee and the good doctor, or fake, whatever the truth might be.

  Something as big as my paranoid mind was making that song into his voice. Justin would have told me. Granted, we hadn’t had a lot of get-to-know-you time, but one did not skip big shit like, by the way, I’m a rock star. Right?

  Chapter Nine

  “The key may be in telling a human—the host—the truth,” Dr. Santos said, stirring a fifth packet of sugar into his coffee. “Did you know that a cell’s atomic weight lightens when in the presence of the act of forgiveness? We respond to energetic frequencies at the cellular level.”

  I wished he had brought the lab coat. Or a spare microscope. His scientific breakdown didn’t go over as well without the props. Still, I listened as he continued about cells and chemicals and energies. “Okay. So, what you’re saying is, real love suppresses the libido, overriding the lust chemicals with love chemicals—”

  “Access areas, as well, each temporal lobe in relation to the pre-frontal—”

  I put my hand up. “Sorry, all the terminology gets me dizzy.” I wasn’t stupid, but the coffee hadn’t helped my patience. At all. It may have made it worse. Withdrawals were knocking on my cellar door. Not good. “The chemicals override. But to sustain the effects, the love must be real, mutual, and in order to stay in the ‘love is blind’ zone, you’re saying we have to then tell our true loves what we are?”

  “According to three separate studies, trust is one of the key factors in a couple staying blind to the other’s faults, which thereby keeps them in love, producing strong love chemicals tapped into the most primal parts of your brain. Now, as you know, you each demonstrate different strains, if you will, of the succubus condition. This is due to ruling hormones which impact personality. Paula, for instance. Her dominant hormone, the hormone which most impacted her brain development and its chemistry, is testosterone, lending a more adventurous and spontaneous personality. Her compatible partner will have a similar….”

  I completely tuned out. I’d begun imagining how that conversation would go, insert Justin, or Seth, or any other love of my life. None went well. Not even Jimi, and he knew what he was, hence what he’d made me. His scenario was the worst, in fact. Jimi would’ve found all this funny. In that charming way of his, he’d have laughed, making me laugh at myself, neither of us able to take any of it seriously.

  Paula would get pissed and just like the old days, our three-way friendship would be cleaved. I had loved Jimi in a way, in the beginning. A young, crushing kind of love. Obvious reasons aside, I was still glad we never worked out.

  Those damned U2 lyrics began repeating in my head. “…you say you want your story to remain untold. All the promises we break from the cradle to the grave and all I want is you….” Where was Justin right now?

  “When are we leaving town?” I asked, then realized I’d interrupted. “Sorry. I wandered a bit.” Paula clearly could have killed me, but Dr. Santos simply smiled.

  “No need to apologize. I recognized the symptoms when you came in yesterday. Your condition is phasing. Reciprocation is a tricky solution and theory at this point. Whoever he is—or she—I recommend you locate your new host soon. If the virus mutates, your needs will worsen. ”

  New host? Ew! I wasn’t a leech sucking Justin dry.

  Was I?

  “I think we’d better go,” Paula said.

  If I was nothing more than some leech and he stopped wanting me, what would I then become? I hadn’t felt like this before. This vulnerable hope and fear.

  Dr. Santos didn’t argue or look in the least bit offended as Paula helped me up and led me outside to the car.

  “Talk to me, Liv. You’re sheet white and freaking me the fuck out.”

  “You’re freaking? I’m freaking. How am I supposed to keep seeing Justin if he’s nothing more than my ‘host’. And what happens if I do and he gets suffocated, like any normal guy would, when I can’t get enough of him unless and until he falls in love with me and I become this desperate stalker—”

  “Stop, Liv. Really. You’re not making sense, okay?” She drove fast, heading where I needed to go. I knew he’d be there, too. Waiting for me. “If you need to feed, feed. Worry about the love part after.”

  God, it sounded so exploitive, so violating I hated it. I missed normal so badly. Boy meets girl, boy courts girl. Passing notes in class. Texting from the club. I was sick of being twenty-five, perpetually needing to fuck the daylights out of the next hot sucker.

  No. That wasn’t fair.

  I liked the lust, too. I liked how it tasted, how feeding filled me with ecstatic glow.

  Too much.

  But the lust meant destroying someone I loved, every time. And each time killed a part of who I was with it. I was losing the Olivia in me. My humanity.

  Paula parked. “Go. Don’t worry about me.”

  Words couldn’t say how grateful I was and, thankfully, I knew she understood. After a quick hug, I got out and hurried up the three flights to Justin’s door. I knocked. My thighs ached. My breasts ached. Shirtless and tousled, he answered.

  He didn’t speak and he didn’t smile. I didn’t care. I strode forward and kissed him hard on the mouth. He pulled me in, shut the door, and pushed me up against it. His hands found my titties and grabbed them hard. I inhaled his scent, sharp pleasure igniting my wakening lust. My fears and hopes evaporated under the dense fog of want.

  Justin broke our kiss and flipped me around. He pulled off my shirt and positioned my hands high on the door. I shut my eyes, breathless. His hands trailed down my arms, over my shoulders, leaving exquisite shivers in their wake. Slippery wet heat gathered down south.

  His heavy breaths tickled my neck as he leaned his body to mine. Skin on skin, I arched into him. His hands came around my belly, opened my jeans and yanked them down my legs. Quick, hot kisses rained over my back. Justin moved lower and lower, stopping once my jeans reached my knees.

  With a quick flick, he tore my panties off. He licked and sucked my cheeks, gripping each in his hands. He spanked me
. Hot sting rippled over my ass. I gasped. He rubbed the smart away. I got wetter.

  Standing, Justin unhooked my bra and shoved his hands under the material. I moaned in relief, shaking my bra off to fall to the floor. His touch cooled the fever building within me, yet stoked the fire of my need. I could hear the rustle of his jeans and knew he’d shoved them down.

  The swollen tip of his cock pressed my cheeks. None too gently, he pulled my hips closer. I bent further, raising on my toes, hoping he’d drive right into me. Fucking tease! He pulled back slightly so that instead, his cock slid the length of my pussy, gliding in my moisture, back and forth, driving me insane with want.

  I whimpered, trying to angle the tip into me. My hunger grew so bad. If he didn’t give me what I needed, I might have tried to take it. Maybe he sensed my desperation. Maybe he felt it, too. His hands grasping my bouncing titties; he stuck his prick deep inside my sex.

  I cried out. Pleasure sparkled through me with a measure of relief. My lust fed fast and hard, devouring the nourishment every glorious stroke poured into me. My veins pounded. My chest lightened.

  Justin teased his thumbs over my hard nipples and softly bit my shoulder. Then he kissed it. Fast and hard became slow and deep. He moved his hips so that his dick twirled a dance inside of me. He released one breast and found my clit. He pressed his palm to it and matched the circular motion of his hips, but in the opposite direction.

  Even if the idea had occurred to me to wait, to prolong this bliss, I couldn’t stop from cumming. I cried out again and again as my muscles clenched around his thick flesh, then I felt him throbbing, too. A new image came and I knew it would this time. Justin, young, in a hammock with a girl with bright red hair, holding hands, looking up at stars.

  The image nearly choked me, it felt almost like my own. I could smell the grass, the soap in the girl’s hair, the rapid heartbeat of first love.

  Justin whispered my name near my ear in a low keen, bringing me back to the room. He kissed my neck and held me close, easing from my body.

  “Liv.” Again. Softer. Sweeter. My heart broke wide open. “Liv.”

  Love.

  The curse within me sighed in euphoric contentment. The rest of me nearly did, too. Nearly. Before I could let my heart run reckless and free, I had to know. The notes in my name on his lips couldn’t be ignored.

  Justin pulled back and brought me around into his arms. He didn’t say a word and I allowed myself one more moment there. One perfect moment where possibility lit the dark corners.

  He kissed my forehead. I met his gaze. It was guarded. “You came back,” he said.

  It took me a second to understand his meaning. “I had to meet with Paula. Listen, Justin?” I stepped back so I could fully see his face. “I need to ask you something.”

  He nodded and something about the way he moved warned me, he already knew what I would ask. “I heard a song on the radio,” I said.

  He didn’t look away. He only slowly blinked. “I thought you might. Eventually.”

  I swallowed. Least he wasn’t denying it. “How big is it?”

  Cocking his head a little, he shrugged. “It’s in the early stages, but everyone seems to think it’ll get pretty big.”

  “The car?”

  He walked to the sofa, unselfconscious of his nudity. I couldn’t help it. I drank in the way he moved and the contours of his body. “Garette’s with the label. That weekend in Vegas was a bit of a courtship.”

  “The CD?”

  “Artists he’s worked with. A sales pitch. That’s not why I played it, though.”

  “Good pitch.” I leaned back against the door. My hair tickled my bare back when I shook my head. “You should have told me.” Before I’d gotten in so deep.

  “I didn’t want you to see me as that.” He steepled his hands together. “It’s funny how life works that way. Fate hands you what you always wanted, then something you never knew you might need.” His eyes searched mine. “It’s what I am, have been for as long as I can remember.”

  “I can tell.” I wanted to move, but my legs wouldn’t go. “Your voice is amazing.”

  He looked away, bashful. “Thanks.”

  I clasped my hands behind me.

  “How mad are you?” he asked.

  “It isn’t about not telling me,” I said, though I couldn’t help feeling bizarrely betrayed. “I get that. In a way, I kind of like that I didn’t know. I got to see you for you. But, you have to understand—“

  “I know. I do. It’s a lifestyle and a whirlwind. It’s a ride you aren’t interested in hitching on.” Pain rang in his words. “I never wanted an unreliable kind of relationship. You know? I’m not one of those guys who loves ‘em and leaves ‘em. But how can I ask a person to be there for me, no matter what, so I’ll never wonder if in the morning I’ll wake up with them gone…?”

  I nodded, swiping my eyes. I got it. Maybe I wasn’t the reliable kind of love. “Reliable. Right. No skipping out.” I half shrugged.

  “That’s not what I meant. I mean, with the crazy career it looks like I’m getting pulled into,” he said, pausing. “How do you ask someone for normal if you can’t offer it yourself?”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “There’s so much I want to tell you. It’s like I can feel you about to run. And I want you to stay. There’s this world of emotion inside my chest that I wish I could show you, but I think that will send you running faster.”

  My eyes stung. I fought to steady my choked breathing. To calm the riot in my chest.

  He tugged on his jeans, zipped them and shoved his hands into the pockets. They hung low, showing off the deep ridge of each hip muscle tapering down. “And then there’s part of me screaming that I’ll regret not saying something.”

  Justin came to me. He cupped my face and looked into my eyes. “Maybe I don’t have to tell you.”

  He didn’t. I could feel it, too. I could sense it in the change of my hunger, the nature of my repletion. The way I suddenly felt whole, even if temporarily.

  How was I supposed to keep this? Fate was a cruel, bitter cunt. A relationship with a regular guy challenged me enough. I could only imagine how much more difficult fame would make love. Then factor in what Dr. Santos had theorized. Impossible.

  Completely impossible. Love plus honesty.

  How could I ever tell him what I am? I love you and by the way, I also feed off of you like a sexual leech. Oh, no, not crazy. Prove it? Uh, yeah, can’t. Sorry.

  I put my clothes on. I needed to get out of there. I needed to think.

  “We’re driving back today,” I said.

  Justin nodded. “I have a flight out to L.A. tonight.”

  “Fly safe, I guess,” I said.

  He pulled me close and kissed me hard. “Not goodbye, okay? Not yet. Okay? If I only get days or weeks. I’ll take it. You know that, right?”

  I couldn’t meet his eyes. I knew there’d be so much hope and love shining in them that I’d tip off the precipice and into his arms, a love-lost fool. A succubus couldn’t run pell mell into the oblivion. Paula had shown me that many times over. Justin could so easily be my overdose.

  I hugged him tight instead, nodding, memorizing his scent and the feel of his arms around me. Then I left. I could feel him watching me from the open door as I made my way down stairs that blurred from fat, popping tears.

  Paula was still in the car, chatting on her phone. Thank God, I still had her. And always would. She hung up and squeezed my knee, but didn’t ask. I blew my nose as she hit the freeway. My phone rang.

  I picked it up, clearing my throat. Justin’s name wasn’t what showed on my screen, though. Seth’s did.

  Chapter Ten

  “Maybe we should get matching tattoos to commemorate the occasion,” Paula said.

  “To commemorate what, exactly?” I said, breaking my three-hour silence.

  “The trip. Progress.”

  “I’m not sure I’m ready to call it progress.” Part
of me suspected she was needling out what was really going on. Not talking wasn’t helping, though. If succubus was part science, why the whole glow thing? Why was love part of my curse? How was getting more information we couldn’t do anything with progress? What if this was like some sort of HIV and couldn’t be cured? If we were a sort of energy vampires, were there other breeds of it? Fear suckers? Hate suckers? I’d thought myself into circles and only felt more sick and fearful.

  “Of course it’s progress. We found the doctor, he knew what we were, has studied succubus or succubi or whatever we’re called. I mean, a regular doctor would call us crazy and send us to sex rehab.”

  I had mixed feelings about the sign we passed. Las Vegas 58 miles. “He didn’t tell us anything new.”

  “He confirmed what we already knew, though, and has theories. I don’t understand reciprocity, but he does.”

  “There’s more than one theory?”

  “Well, maybe. He’s working on the quantum physics of the whatever. He’ll keep us posted.”

  “When did you—oh. Never mind.” I should have realized Paula had fed on Dr. Santos. The signs of intimacy had been there. And Paula hadn’t complained once about hunger.

  “And don’t forget, too, you found Justin.”

  “He’s a rock star.”

  “And he’s a rock star. Excellent. See? Progress. I wonder if there’s a cool Chinese symbol we could use. I was thinking on opposite hips so that we—“

  “No. I mean, he’s actually a rock star. Or will be. He has a record deal and a song on the radio and everything.”

 

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