Uncorked

by Rebecca Rohman

  Mitch removed the polo shirt he was wearing and slipped into a linen-white shirt with khaki trousers along with his hat and sunglasses. After dressing Chella’s hand, they headed out to dinner.

  They found a lovely outdoor restaurant right on the waterfront. Beautiful yachts and sailboats lined up along the water’s edge in front of them. The waiter took their order and returned with two glasses of white wine and bread.

  “Feel better?” Chella asked, tearing apart one of the rolls and buttering it lightly.

  “I do. I needed a change of scenery.”

  “You seemed down. I was really worried about you.”

  “You worry about me?”

  “Of course I do,” she said, smiling. “Was it just because you were stuck in the penthouse?”

  “Partly. I had a nasty fight with my mother.”

  “It was about me, wasn’t it?”

  He nodded.

  “Mitch, I’m sorry. I never meant to cause problems between you and your mother.”

  “She forced me to choose between you and her, and I didn’t like being put in that position. Truthfully, this really isn’t about you. She’s always been this way. She’s always caused or tried to cause problems in my relationships, and it’s time it stopped. I don’t think she was expecting me to choose you.”

  He chose me over his mother? He’s making it really hard for me not to fall for him.

  “Maybe I should call. Reason with her.”

  “Don’t. She’d only blame you and somehow make this your fault.”

  “Do you really want your mother out of your life?”

  “Of course not, but she forced me to make that decision. She knows my number if she changes her mind.”

  “I get the feeling something brought this on. What was it?”

  “What makes you think that?” Mitch asked as the waiter brought their meal.

  “You seem angry, like something else motivated you to do this.”

  “Yesterday afternoon while you were asleep, the concierge called me to tell me my five-thirty appointment was waiting for me in the lobby. I hadn’t set up any appointments, so I asked them who it was. It turned out to be my mom’s friend’s daughter, Francesca. I didn’t invite her up. I went down to the lobby to sit with her. She was completely confused. Apparently, my mother told her I was having a cocktail party and invited her. Francesca is like a sister to me. I always suspected that she wanted more, but I could see how hurt she was when I told her there was no party and I was seeing someone. It would be one thing if she was able to laugh it off, but I think she thought that invitation meant something, and she got her hopes up. I think it really hurt and humiliated her.”

  “Why didn’t you invite her up?”

  “For a number of reasons. Chella, you’re the only person that’s ever been in there, apart from my mom, and now Craig.”

  “Really? Not even Jason and Vicky?”

  “They know I live there—it was always my intention to invite them—but the last six months have been crazy. I still haven’t finished unpacking.”

  “I didn’t notice.”

  “I like my privacy.”

  “I can understand that. I’m sorry all this has happened. You must be overwhelmed.”

  “I am. It would be easier if we had the freedom to roam, but I think the gas leak was a blessing in disguise. Seeing something else made all the difference.”

  “I’m happy you’re in a better space.”

  “Me, too. Why don’t we go to the restaurant on the top floor? We can have dessert and watch the sunset from there.”

  “That’s a fantastic idea.”

  Mitch and Chella sat on the fortieth floor at the corner window taking in the breathtaking vistas of the San Diego bay and the Coronado Bridge. The sounds of Duke Ellington and John Coltrane’s “Sentimental Mood” filled the space, creating a warm and romantic atmosphere. They enjoyed black martinis with chocolate mousse for dessert and watched as the orange ball slipped below the horizon.

  Her mind drifted back to her conversation with Craig earlier that afternoon. If she had to go off the way she was feeling at that precise moment and forget everything else that was happening in the world, she would be quick to commit to Mitch.

  “Chella?”

  “Sorry, what did you say?”

  “You were somewhere else back there. I thought we were having a great time.”

  “We were—I mean—we are.”

  “What were you thinking about?”

  “You.”

  “Me?

  She couldn’t ignore the cheering squad in her head.

  Come on, Chella, take a chance… go Chella go!

  “Immm hmmm,” she replied nervously, taking a sip of her martini.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  “Do you still want more?”

  “More of what?”

  “More than just a thing.”

  “Are you serious?” he asked, reaching for her hand. She was certain he could feel her sweaty palms, her racing pulse.

  “I am.”

  “Are you sure you’re ready?”

  “I don’t think I’ll ever be ready, but if I want to take control of my life again, I have to start somewhere. I can’t think of anyone with whom I’d rather start.

  He pulled her into a warm embrace then kissed her softy on her lips.

  “I think I’m falling in like with you,” she whispered.

  He smiled against her lips and said, “I’m falling in like with you, too.”

  When they entered their room, Mitch circled his arms around her from behind and kissed her deeply, devouring her. He stroked and massaged her breasts through the fabric of her tank dress. He turned her around to face him, lifting her in his arms. She wrapped her legs around him as he carried her across to the nearby desk. Standing between her thighs, he peeled the straps of her dress down her arms, exposing her rounded breasts. He took them into his mouth, sucking, licking, while his fingers slipped between her panties and found her pleats. He kneaded her, caressed her. With his fingers, he penetrated her.

  She slid off the desk and pushed him against the wall and stripped him—his shirt, his pants, his underwear. Kneeling before him, she took him into her mouth, tracing him with her tongue, sucking him, pleasuring him.

  He slipped her dress over her head and pulled her to him, exploring her mouth and working her crevasses once more as he pleasured her against the wall. She held him in her hands, stroking him, massaging him while his fingers worked over her, both indulging each other.

  “Oh God, Mitch,” she whispered through moments of escalating pleasure.

  He responded to her cries, peeling away her panties then bending her over the desk surface, placing one of her legs on the desktop. On his knees, he licked and sucked her clit from behind, sending her into moans of pleasure. When her cries grew louder, he stood up and entered her from behind. He circled his rock hard shaft inside her, used his fingers to satisfy her front, nearly bringing her to her peak.

  He carried her over to the bed. He lay on top of her, nose to nose, lips to lips, eyes to eyes, glaring deep into her soul. He captured her mouth with his, exploring all that was Chella. She encircled his face in her hands responding passionately to his deep kisses. He used his free hand to caress her breasts, her ass, her clit, rapidly bringing her to the verge of climax.

  He slipped on a condom and sat on the bed. Lifting her, and gently placing her on top of him, he entered her. Beginning a slow dance over him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, encouraging him as he sought to explore her mouth. Heat rose between her thighs once more, as she plunged her pelvis into him. And as she moved sensually over him, she felt explosions of complete ecstasy erupting between her thighs. Moments later, his grip on her tightened. And as she felt him spasm violently inside her, her name rolled off his lips.

  They collapsed to the bed. He held her in a strong and protective hold, kissing her tenderly on her cheeks, inhaling her completely intoxicating s
cent. Looking into her eyes, he said, “You were amazing.”

  “So were you.”

  “We need to make this kind of lovemaking a habit.”

  She giggled at his words. “Since we’ve taken it to that level, I’m healthy. All clear—apart from not being able to have kids, of course.”

  “Me, too. I was tested for my insurance when I moved here. So I think it’s safe to say that next time we can forgo these annoying little rubbers.”

  “I think we should start practicing now.”

  “My, my, where do you get the energy?”

  They kissed again, wrapped in each other’s sweet embrace. They fell asleep for a couple of hours before making love again.

  The following morning, Mitch dressed, kissed Chella lightly on her forehead and caressed her back. “Hey, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I’m going to the gym.”

  “Have fun.”

  “Go back to bed. I’ll lock the door.”

  “Bye, sweetie.”

  After he left, she put the additional safety lock on the door, pulled some clothes from her bag, and headed into the shower. When she was done, she dressed and spent a little extra time trying to put her hair in a tight ponytail on the top of her head. She looked at her wrist, and even though she would need help putting the gauze on, she was able to clean it and put on the antibiotic cream.

  She headed to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea, but stopped dead in her tracks.

  Aaron sat in the living room armchair.

  Chapter Six

  Chella’s stomach twisted. She felt her world collapsing all around her with nowhere to run. No safe haven. This was it—she was finally face to face with her fate.

  “How long did you think you’d be able to avoid me?” Aaron crossed a leg over his knee, fist supporting his head, knife in the other hand. Compared to the pictures the police showed her a few weeks before, he looked like he hadn’t shaved in weeks. And from the stainless steel flask on the end table next to him, it looked like he still hadn’t kicked his nasty drinking habits.

  Chella was certain she could hear her chest thumping.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, trying to keep her tone calm, even. She surveyed the room. Both phones were on his side of the suite. He was closer to the exit, and she’d never be able to get past him. Her purse with her phone and Taser was on the floor, eight feet away. If she could get to it, she stood a chance.

  “Been looking for you for a while. You’ve been getting smarter of late, finding crafty ways to elude me, going undetected. I was lucky to be in the right place at the right time.”

  “What do you want from me?” she asked, sweat accumulating on her palms.

  “Everything you and your parents took away from me.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Looks like you and new little boyfriend live quite the good life. A life I used to enjoy. Thanks to your parents, I no longer have it.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Maybe if I inch slowly toward it while I distract him with conversation, I might be able to get to it.

  “Right. Play dumb. All you had to do was have a stupid abortion—that’s all. But no. You had to fight me.”

  “I would have raised the baby on my own,” she responded, taking a tiny step in the direction of her bag.

  “So my father could tell me to live up to my responsibilities? Tell me one more time that I’m a big, fat failure? Nah.”

  “I never told your father anything.” She inched her way toward the bag.

  “But your parents did, didn’t they? Between you and them, I don’t know who fucked up my life more.”

  “This is not their fault—”

  “Of course it is!” Aaron shouted, banging his fist on the glass end table next to him.

  The glass shattered.

  Chella startled. Her heart hammered in her chest.

  The bag was three feet away.

  “You all fucked up my life, so I had to return the favor. Too bad you didn’t get killed in that crash, too.”

  His words sent chills through her body. She shivered. Goose bumps covered her skin. “What are you talking about?”

  He laughed coldly. “I guess we’ll never know, will we?”

  She felt sick to her stomach. The possibility that he might have had something to do with her parents’ death shook her to her core.

  “What can I do to get you the hell out of my life?”

  “What makes you think I’m going to make it easy for you? You have to pay, and I’m going to make it slow and painful.”

  “So that’s it? You want to see me in pain? Just spit it out. What the hell do you want?”

  “You know, for a virgin, back in the day, you used to be a pretty good fuck. I could have you on that fancy bed right now.”

  Oh God, please don’t rape me.

  “You’ve been fucking that asshole that left here a while ago?”

  “Leave him out of this. He has nothing to do with this.”

  “See now, that’s where you’re wrong. He does. I gave him a chance to back off and leave you alone, like all the others, but he stuck around. He has my lifestyle and my girl.”

  “I haven’t been your girl for years.”

  She stood above her opened bag. The Taser and phone lay at the top, near the zipper.

  Do I take the bag, run for the bathroom and call the police from there? Or do I pick up the Taser and use it to keep him away from me? Do I really want to get closer to him? I’d have to do just that, because I’d never hit him from so far away.

  She glanced at the door and realized the additional safety lock was not on but the security chain was. If she took the Taser out of her bag, she would be inviting a struggle. If she took her bag to the bathroom, she might have the opportunity to call the police and have him arrested. She had to make a decision. The wrong one could cost her her life.

  “I’ve warned you before. If I can’t have you, no one will.” Blood trailed down his arm from the broken glass.

  Sweat beaded at her temple. “Whatever we had is over.”

  “I don’t want any man touching you or even looking at you. Don’t you understand? If I can’t have you, no one will.” His voice rose to a shout. “I’ll kill you both if I have to!”

  She snatched her bag and took off toward the bathroom. Locking the door behind her, she pulled out the Taser and dialed 9-1-1.

  Fists pounded the other side of the door. “Don’t talk to me that way, you bitch! You’ll pay for this! You’ll never be with anyone but me!”

  His shouts and kicks ricocheted through the door…

  The 9-1-1 operator answered. “9-1-1. What is your emergency?”

  “My ex is trying to kill me.”

  “What is you location, ma’am?”

  “The Harbor at Three Market Place. Room 3301, thirty-third floor.”

  “What is your name?”

  “Chella… Chella Noon,” she cried.

  A military boot blasted a hole through the door.

  “Oh God…his foot just came through the door…I’m in the bathroom…he’s kicking in the door…he has a knife…please, hurry.”

  “They’re already on their way, ma’am. What’s his name?”

  “Aaron…Stewart”

  At the same time she answered the operator, she heard Mitch’s voice. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Oh God, oh God… my boyfriend just came into the suite,” she relayed to the operator.

  “Look, asshole, Chella is mine. She will always be mine, and if I can’t have her, nobody will. That includes you. I’ll kill you both! That’s a promise!”

  “You sick son-of-a-bitch. Stay the fuck away from her. I will kill you if you ever lay a hand on her again.”

  Chella couldn’t see what was happening, but she heard something fall hard. More glass shattered.

  Through the hole in the door, she saw Aaron lying on the bed. He wailed in pain, h
is hands clutching his blood-soaked head.

  “Mitch?” Chella called, still not able to see him.

  “I’m fine. Do you have your phone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Call 9-1-1?”

  “I’m on the phone with them now. Can I come out?”

  “Not until the police get here.”

  “I can’t see you.”

  “I’m good. Just tell them to hurry.”

  Aaron tried to get up.

  Mitch said, “Trust me when I tell you I’ll break your other arm if you move.”

  Moments later, hotel security swarmed the bedroom.

  “Ms. Noon are you still there?” asked the 9-1-1 operator.

  “I am. Are they on their way yet?”

  “Yes, they should be there any minute now. Can you tell me what’s happening?”

  “The fighting has stopped. I can see him lying on the bed. I think he’s injured. Hotel security just came in. Thank God, the police are here.”

  “You can hang up now, ma’am.”

  “Thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Chella hung up the phone and ran out to find Mitch. The police cuffed Aaron to the bed while a paramedic attended to his broken arm. The mirror from the wall lay shattered on the carpet. Mitch stood in the corner of the room. His shoulder and upper chest were bleeding.

  “Oh God, you’re bleeding?”

  Mitch circled her in his arms and kissed her on the cheek. He ushered her into the living room, away from Aaron’s protests to the police that he was the victim.

  “A few stitches, that’s all. Oh, Sweetheart. I thought—”

  “I know.” Her voice sounded as shattered as glass at her bare feet.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine, Chella.”

  Police with evidence kits and photographers combed the space, and a paramedic attended to Mitch’s wounds.

  Detective Carter entered the room. “Are you two all right?”

  “We’re fine. Can we do this at your office? I need to get Chella out of here.”

  “Quick question. How did he get in?”

  “I don’t know,” said Chella. “When I got out of the shower he was sitting in the chair over there, waiting. Mitch had gone to the gym. After he left, I put the chain and the safety lock on the door. I have no clue how he got in.”