With my heart beating out of my chest, I stand in the small foyer, ready to grovel and make up with the man I adore and love. And to think that I almost ruined our whole night…
“I gotta go, Shan.”
I hang up, tossing my phone who knows where.
40
Hendrix
Slipping my keycard into the lock, I’m a bit nervous about what I’ll find on the other side of the door. Trin was mightily pissed at me. Sure, I see her point and all, but she’s completely misreading my intentions.
I’m not trying to control her, like she’s convinced herself I am. I’m merely struggling to keep my fucking cool every time I think of her getting hurt or reading some article about the triggers for HIV to AIDS. The other day I read an article about a woman who’d gotten seriously ill from her pet cat. I had no idea cats carried a potentially fatal parasite that could be transferred via their shit. Of course, I flipped the fuck out thinking of Trin with Beast.
But, needless to say, I could have handled that situation differently this morning. Communication has never been my strong suit; clearly, I’ll need to work at that going forward. I also need to ease up on my Internet searches. If I keep it up, I’ll be putting her in a bubble. A guy could seriously go nuts from worry. And this guy is. I’ve never felt or been this way before and I’m not about to start apologizing for my newfound characteristics, but I will work on my delivery. I’ll do everything in my power to keep my girl safe and with me, where she belongs. She can tap her foot, cross her arms, and sass me all she likes. I’m not budging.
Opening the door, my senses are on high alert because it’s quiet. Too quiet. That is, until a barrelling Trinity rushes at me, jumps into my arms and wraps her arms around me. Pulling me in close, she starts kissing all over my face.
“I’m…kiss…so…peck…peck…sorry…kiss…I…was…kiss…kiss…wrong… I…peck…love you…kiss…kiss… I’m an ass.” She stops, much to my dismay, and pulls away from my grasp. Taking me by the hand, she leads me inside our suite, drops the takeout bags on the desk, and pushes me to sit down in the leather swivel chair.
Once she has me where she wants me, Trin leans in, resting her hands on the chair’s armrests, caging me in on both sides. Her gorgeous body’s covered in a flimsy purple t-shirt and a pair of flannel bottoms. She looks fucking sexy, with her nipples all pert, her full tits giving me a silent nod and a goad at the same time. I deny my tongue permission to go in and try to lick each peak, because I’m not sure if I’m fully out of the doghouse yet. Things are looking good, but I don’t want to push my luck, not just yet.
Trinity moves further into my space and leans down, her beautiful face meeting mine. Our eyes crash as she stares deep into mine. She grins stunningly before asking: “Wanna make nice with me, now? Now that I get it?” She places her knee up on the tiny bit of space that exists between the edge of the chair and my now steel-hard cock. The shift is perfect, it brings her fruity scent washing over me. I hate that we’ve wasted this time arguing.
She cocks her head, lifts her index finger and softly runs it along my bottom lip as she continues. “And because you love me so much, we’re just going to move right past this. I’ll be better at not being too offended at your sometimes controlling ways, knowing your intentions are good, and you’ll try to not be as bossy and barky.”
I wrap my arms around her waist and rest my cheek on her chest. I look up, waiting to speak, but she keeps talking without letting me get a word in edgewise.
“Trin—” I try to cut her off, but she ignores me and keeps talking.
“So from here on out, there will be no more arguments and I’ll stop being a pest about you driving me around like Miss Daisy.” She tugs my hair, and I can’t help giving her tits a little motorboat action in response. How can I not, with my head right there? The move makes her squeal and she grips me closer. I’ll never tire of having her tight against me.
“Trinny.” I stop my assault, our eyes meeting once again.
“What?” she asks, laughter lacing her tone, those grey eyes of hers so intense, so clear.
“Think we could move on to the make-up sex? You had me the second you met me at the door, and your lush tits are keeping my face comfy and warm, but I need to be inside you, Trin. I’m rock hard.” I bite her bottom lip. “We were supposed to be making up for our missed opportunity this morning. You owe me, woman.”
Moving her knee off the chair, she straightens herself in front of me, her pink lips taking on a slight curve, which tells me my Trinny is up to no good. I’m about to stand and demand she get on the bed so I can taste her, but she beats me to the punch.
“Take your pants off,” she commands, leaving no room for argument. Naturally, when a gorgeous woman commands you to take off your pants, you listen. Too bad for me, I’m a bit stunned at Trinny’s boldness. I’ve yet to experience this side of her and in this moment I’m a bit shocked, which leaves me frozen. Smiling, Trin slips down between my legs. “I said ‘pants off’. My version of make-up sex involves a little of me grovelling, with my mouth…” she pauses, looking so fucking naughty and too damn sexy, “…around your big cock,” she adds. She inches closer, her hands running up and down the outsides of my still jean-clad legs. My muscles contract at her touch. Fuck, she affects me. “I can’t wait to have you on my tongue, and down my throat.”
Holy Christ, this girl is a fucking minx. I swear I almost come from her words alone. Cocking her head in that sexy way she does, she continues to torment me. “Think you might like that?” Trin asks, stifling a laugh when it finally clicks and I need my goddamn pants off yesterday. I lift my hips from the chair, not wanting to make her leave her spot in front of me.
“Hell, yes,” I reply, as I struggle to undo my belt and pull my jeans down. Thankfully, Trin takes over, removing my pants and boxers then tossing them aside without any fucks.
“I think we should fight at least once a day,” I tell her, giving her my best shit-eating grin.
“I’ll bet you do. Condom?” she asks, as always. See how sweet and caring and considerate my girl is? Every time we engage in anything sexual, she stops and asks if I want to use a dental dam when I go down on her, or a condom when she gives me head. And every time I tell her, “No, baby. I just want to feel you.”
And it’s true. The only time we use a condom without fail is for sex. Anything else I feel is low-risk as long as we’re cautious and know when we shouldn’t, like Dr. Millman advised us. I can’t fault her, though. If anything, it’s this that makes me love her that much more. Trinity has always explained that she wants me to have the choice and to be safe, always. That she will do everything she can to make sure she keeps me safe. Ironically, the same impulses I have toward her have branded me as an over protective asshole.
“Not a fucking chance,” I tell her, pinching her chin with my thumb and index finger, pulling her in for a deep kiss. “I want to feel your wet mouth around my cock. I wanna watch you suck me.” I kiss her again before releasing her face and slouching back into the chair.
“My pleasure.” She pulls off her t-shirt, giving me a full-frontal view of her sensational rack. Her perfect tits sway and jiggle as she moves into position. I watch them, mesmerized, with rapt fascination.
“Yeah. We’re definitely gonna be fighting more,” I say, before leaning forward and taking each pink-dusted nipple into my mouth. No way I can deny myself any longer, not when they’re this close.
“It’s my turn,” Trin says, pulling her tits away from my mouth. “Let me make you feel good, Hendrix.”
“Yeah, baby? You going to suck me?” I ask, while she watches me stroke my engorged cock a few times, her eyes widening.
“Yes,” she replies breathlessly, swatting my hand away and covering my cock with her hot mouth. The contact has me lifting my ass off the chair again, her mouth feels so perfect.
“Fuck, yes,” I grit, as I feel her swirling around the head of my dick, her tongue darting as she laps up a bi
t of pre-cum that’s surfaced from the contact.
“You taste so good,” she says, looking up at me, her tongue now running along the underside of my cock. She slides her fist up and down my now-glistening shaft while she continues to tease the head of my cock with her tongue, over and over, before taking me all in. Between her hands, her tongue and how she keeps running her lips along the edges of my tip, I’m in fucking heaven.
“Shit, that’s it, baby. Take it.” With her eyes glued to mine she moves to take me all the way in again. The hand that was wrapped around my shaft has moved and she’s cradling my balls now. She looks sexy as hell with my dick in her mouth and my balls in her grip.
“I’m not gonna last…” I say, after a few minutes of this exquisite torture. I arch my back and push my head back against the chair, but then Trin pops me out of her mouth, takes her hands off me, and licks her lips. My control snaps. Shifting out of the chair, I reach down, lift her up by her ass cheeks and walk us over to the bed.
“I want to come inside you. I want to feel you milking my cock with that sweet, sweet pussy, Trin. I can’t wait another minute,” I whisper hoarsely, hovering over her, taking her lips in a demanding kiss.
“God, yes.” Thankfully, my girl’s just as desire-filled as I am. Grabbing a condom, I tear it open with my teeth and quickly roll it over my cock. Trin pulls my hips in close and I slide perfectly into my girl, and fuck her ’til we’re both screaming. Damn the neighbours.
We spend the rest of the night eating our cold takeout in bed, making plans for the shop and talking about how we need Cannon to make a move to work at Ignition Inc. full-time. Trin comes up with a few ideas to make that happen and, once again, I’m caught up in how wicked smart my beautiful girlfriend is. Wrapping her in my arms, we fall asleep.
In the end, I think, as I drift off to dreamland, the car show turned out even better than I hoped it was going to be.
Everything is perfect until the next morning.
*
As we head for home in Stoney Creek, taking the Fruitland Road exit off the highway, I hear “Superman” by the Kinks begin to play loudly from the depths of Trin’s purse. She looks at me, startled, then dives for her cellphone.
“It’s Simon,” she says. Before she even answers, I know. Simon rarely calls, he always texts.
Looking at me with unshed tears already forming, I can see that Trinity knows, too. She thumbs her phone, sending the call to voicemail rather than picking it up.
“I know, baby. You going to talk to him, or do you want me to?” I ask, my voice tender. I reach my hand over, taking hers in mine, then navigate the truck to a safe spot on the side of the road, putting the transmission in park. We’re about ten minutes away from the shop, and I know this is going to be hard for her. I can’t be driving when all I want to do is hold her.
“No. I can’t do it, I don’t think.” She gives me a small shrug, while staring at the phone as it keeps ringing, over and over. Simon must be trying multiple times to get through. What choice does he have? This isn’t something you can leave on voicemail.
“Simon needs you now, babe,” I say.
Taking a deep breath, Trin removes her seatbelt, and shifts out of her seat, climbing over to sit in my lap. It’s cramped, but I welcome her immediately, pulling her into my chest. The rings come a few more times before there’s a lull.
“You gotta do this, Trin.”
“I know,” she sniffles, “but I don’t want to. It will only make it true.” She plucks at my t-shirt, and it pains me to think that the hurt is just beginning.
I’m about to speak when her phone goes off again. This time, she answers.
“Hello.” It’s barely a whisper. She looks up into my eyes. I offer a small smile, before I start wiping away the tears pouring down her beautiful face. I can barely make out Simon’s words, but I hear the pain and sadness behind each word he forces out.
“I’m sorry, Trin…”
“…she loved you…”
“…peacefully…”
“…miss her so much…”
I stroke Trin’s shoulder while she utters monosyllabic words here and there, hearing the news that Andrea—one of her dearest and bravest friends—passed away last night in her sleep, losing her battle with AIDS.
A battle that my girl could someday lose.
Suddenly, my reality is way too fucking realistic.
41
Trinity
Sitting on a stool at my kitchen island, I swirl red wine in my glass and think about Andrea. It’s been a little more than a week since she died, and today we laid her to rest.
Simon and Andrea had decided she would be cremated—with only Simon and I in attendance as her final escorts—and that a celebration of her life would be held at their home afterwards for family and friends. It was such an ‘Andrea’ thing to do, and it made me miss her even more.
I think she would have been happy to see the turnout of people who came to joyfully celebrate her life. She would have loved seeing the outpouring of folks bringing Simon food and offering to help him out in any way they could. Friends from our therapy group at The AIDS Network arrived, bringing an offer for Simon to come and join our Friday sessions, an offer I thought showed how much we all cared for her. A few of her work colleagues came and ended up sharing a ton of wonderful stories that made us both cry and laugh. Andrea was definitely loved, both as Andrea and from when she was still Andrew. It seems that other coworkers, not just her boss, had also been aware of her alternative lifestyle, but no-one had wanted her to feel judged therefore they never spoke to her about it. This piece of information was hard for me because, for so long, all Andrea had wanted was to be accepted. Their silence, although well-intended, meant she never knew she was. This shook me up more than I expected, and it took me a few minutes in the washroom to compose myself once they had all left.
All in all, it was a peaceful afternoon, a wonderful event filled with laughter and love as we paid our last respects to our amazing friend. Inside Simon’s and Andrea’s home, it was a lovely bit of brightness on a rather stormy, snowy day, ending one of the hardest weeks I’ve experienced in a long time. Why is that anyway? Why doesn’t the weather ever cooperate? It seems that every time we say goodbye to our loved ones, the weather is always shit. Why can’t we say goodbye and send our friends off into the light with light? It’s a strange juxtaposition that’s always made me wonder, especially now as I sit feeling contemplative and shitty, staring out the kitchen window at the snow whipping around in the wind.
It’s been a few hours since Hendrix and I returned to my house after helping Simon clean up and making sure he was all right. Thinking of him rattling around by himself in that deafeningly silent house now that everyone has gone home is breaking my heart. And hours later, I still can’t stop thinking about how much I’m going to miss Andrea, about how it will take me a long time to even admit that she’s actually gone. All week, I’ve been checking my phone for texts from her, as if my brain hasn’t registered what my heart knows deep-down.
So, here I sit, drinking a glass of Inception, re-reading our old text messages, smiling, laughing and crying. She really was one of the most wonderful people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, always encouraging me to live my life without regrets, to be brave and to take risks with my heart. Through photos, a video chat and texts, Andrea came to love Hendrix in her last days, and he, too, quickly came to see what an incredible person she was. I promised her in our last text that Hendrix and I would always take care of Simon, and she—being her, of course—simply ignored my trying to be serious and again asked for pictures of my eye candy standing beside one of the hot rods he was working on. I laugh out loud at the memory…she was crazy. Good crazy…
I take a long sip of my wine and boot up my laptop. There’s something I’ve been needing to do for a while now, and, after Andrea’s passing, I want to fully take charge of all parts of my life, as she did. And this is the first thing on my list that I n
eed to get out of the way to give me a completely clean slate. I’m doing this for closure. I have nothing but peace and love in my life now, so it’s time.
It may have been a journey to get myself here, but I am still here, and I want Blake to know I’m all right.
In my heart, I know he never planned for this to happen, that he didn’t intend to infect me with HIV. I like to believe that he loved me. I need this, we both need this; he deserves to hear back from me. It’s been more than long enough. I feel a weight lifting from my shoulders, and I know it’s because I’m about to do something that I should have done long ago. I’m going to finally close the door on a part of the past that’s been weighing me down. No more. It’s time to leave it in the past for good.
“Shit, it’s really coming down out there,” Hendrix says, stamping his feet as he comes in from outside, a blistering wind and a few flakes of snow following him in through the door. He’s been outside for the last forty-five minutes or so, shovelling the steps and the path to my apartment before going into the shop to feed the cat.
Hendrix carefully unzips his parka, and Beast jumps out from where he was nestled inside. As usual, he runs straight for me with his tail high in the air, blinking at me and rubbing his face against my ankles. Hendrix and I have been letting Beast hang out up here more often since that first morning Hendrix smuggled him up in his jacket. Today, I need the extra support that only a warm and furry Beast can provide. He purrs and lets me pick him up to cuddle him, and I whisper into his velvet ear. He’s a very understanding kitty.
“Here,” I say, jumping off the stool to greet Hendrix as he removes his heavy jacket and snow boots. I take his coat, black knit toque and scarf, and hang them in the closet. “Thank you, Hendrix.”
“Brrr. It’s bloody cold.” Hendrix blows on his hands, trying to warm them, and then takes Beast from my arms so he can thaw out his hands in the cat’s fur. Stepping into the kitchen, I grab the glass of brandy I’d poured for him a few minutes ago.
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