“Are pancakes supposed to be crispy?”
“Shut up,” she said, trying to prepare her own meal.
Steve put them in his mouth and chewed. The taste was not horrible, but the greasy yet crunchy consistency was rather unpalatable. He forged on, finishing most of his plate before she sat down with her own food.
“How are they?” she asked, her fork poised near her chin.
“Uhm, they taste just fine.” Steve washed down the questionable meal with a cold glass of milk.
He quickly rose to his feet and cleaned his plate at the sink. Autumn lifted the bite to her mouth and carefully took it off of her fork. She chewed once, twice, and then spat it back onto her plate.
“LIAR!” she shouted, as he had already disappeared into the bedroom. “These taste like shit!”
Phil stared up at the magnificent chandelier, a touch of pink tinging the light it spread about the vaulted ceiling. The hotel had a nice ballroom, he had to admit, as he drew his gaze back to floor level. Wooden tiles with elaborate patterns that appeared three dimensional beneath a glaze of wax formed the dance floor, which would have been a generous size even for a club. Sconces in the wall held electric lights shaped to appear as candles, their tapered stems colored red, green, and white. A towering Christmas tree, nearly twenty feet tall, dominated the far wall, the red skirt at the bottom largely concealed by faux presents. A Christmas carol wafted over the room from the DJ’s turntable, providing background music for the guests who alternately danced and feasted at the long buffet tables.
“Wow,” said Crawley, “this is nice!”
He turned to regard her, a smile on his face. She had her dark tresses put up, some length cascading down her back. A dark burgundy sleeveless dress fitted to her form, hitting just above her knees. The satiny material felt good under his hand as he stood with an arm around her waist. He himself was dressed in a nice tuxedo that he pretty much wore once a year, usually to this particular party.
“Vickers pulls out all the stops,” he said with a nod. “There’s caviar on the buffet line, if you can believe that. Used to be an open bar, too, until a few guys got too drunk and ruined it for us, but I think they still have free champagne if you can stand to wait in line.”
“Sometimes,” said Crawley, peering about the room intently, “I kind of regret working for my father. I mean, the work is fine, I enjoy what I do, but it gets awfully lonely sometimes. I don’t…”
“What?”
Crawley heaved a heavy sigh.
“I don’t have a lot of friends, Phillip.” Her eyes seemed far away, and her nostrils flared slightly.
“What are you talking about? I mean, you have all kinds of friends on Facebook.”
“Those don’t really count. I mean, real friends, you know? Most of the people I hung out with in high school, they all moved on.”
The two of them joined the long lines at the buffet tables.
“Didn’t you have friends in college?”
“Sure, but they were never really close friends, you know what I mean? Other girls don’t seem to like me much, and guys, well, most of them are only interested in one thing.”
“I like you,” said Phil with vehemence, squeezing her arm.
“Do you?” Crawley stared at him with half lidded eyes, biting her bottom lip. “I hope so, because I like you, too.”
Their lips briefly met in a kiss. Phil felt conflicted, at once desiring her and dreading another intimate encounter that he might fail. Despite what Crawley had said, he was aware of how much more experienced she was in the bedroom, and he was worried that his lack of prowess would be the undoing of their burgeoning relationship.
He forced such worries aside as Crawley smiled at him, dark eyes shining. Phil thought about her confession, that she had few friends besides the band. He had always been the first one to roll his eyes at the way beautiful young women would complain about their lot, but he supposed that just being attractive didn’t solve all one’s problems.
He did wish that they were more on the same level with regard to sex, though. Either he could have been more experienced, or she could have been less, and it would have worked out fine. But he could not help thinking that she must have been comparing him with every other lover she had ever had, and seeing how she trashed newbs on WoW he had little doubt she preferred experience.
“Hello, Phillip,” came a woman’s voice to their left. Standing there, bearing a clear plate laden with hors d’oeuvres, was a large-busted woman with striking red hair. Her mascara was heavy, but she wore a light foundation so as not to hide her numerous freckles. A floor-length pale blue gown adorned her voluptuous figure, a single shoulder strap leaving much of her back bare.
“Hey, Catherine,” said Phil. “Ellie, this is Catherine Snyder, our regional PR director. Cathy, this is Ellie, my girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?” Cathy asked, taking Crawley’s hand and pumping it.
“Uh, well,” said Phil, glancing nervously at Crawley, “we’re dating, anyway.”
“Nice to meet you,” said Crawley, shaking Cathy’s hand and smiling at her.
“I don’t suppose Steve’s going to come tonight?” Cathy asked, glancing around the crowded room.
“Uh, you know Steve,” said Phil. “He’s not really into this kind of party.”
“Oh,” said Cathy. It seemed to Phil that she was a bit disappointed. “Yeah, probably not.”
“Oh, Steve’s coming,” said Crawley. “Autumn sent me a photo of the dress she picked out.”
“Autumn?” Cathy’s eyes narrowed.
“Autumn texts you?” Phil asked.
“Uh, sort of,” said Crawley. “She doesn’t always respond. I think…I think I kind of annoy her, like everyone else.”
“Who’s Autumn?” Cathy asked.
“Steve’s new girlfriend,” said Phil a bit eagerly, happy to cause his friend’s tormentor a bit of jealousy. “She just moved in with him, actually.”
“Oh,” said Cathy, her eyes narrowing just a bit, “so she’s someone he met at work, or what?”
“Uh,” said Phil, “I don’t think so, but you can ask him yourself. They just walked in the door.”
Cathy followed his pointing finger to where Autumn and Steve stood in line waiting to present their invitations.
“They look so cute together,” said Crawley with a sigh.
Over at the door, Steve adjusted his bow tie, put out. “This thing is strangling me.”
“I tied it three times,” said Autumn, smiling at him. “Get used to it.”
She was wearing bright ruby lipstick, heavy eyeliner, and mascara. The dress she had chosen, a black as midnight number that hugged her generous curves well, displayed a good expanse of her shapely legs and bust. The light glinted off her painted lips, the golden hoops of her earrings (seven in each ear), and the silver heart pendant which hung around her neck. She idly toyed with the new bauble as she giggled at his continued antics.
“I can’t breathe.”
“Bullshit,” she said softly in his ear, then more loudly. “If you were choking you’d be going ack! Uck!” She grabbed her own throat and rolled her eyes back into her head.
“Come on, zombie princess.” Steve tugged gently on her elbow. “Let’s go mingle, maybe get some of that champagne.”
He led her around the room, introducing her to the few people he remembered from years past. They had nearly done a complete circuit when Autumn spotted Crawley and Phil.
“I guess we should go say hello.” Her nostrils flared, and her brow came low over her eyes. Steve chuckled.
“You don’t like Crawley much, do you?”
“She’s not a bad person, or anything. She’s just kind of annoying, you know? Like everything she says is designed to get you to pay attention to or be impressed with her.”
“She might come across as conceited, but people who fish for approval like that usually have low self-esteem. Hell, that’s why she dresses in those tight clothes, so
people will pay attention to her.”
“Oh, so you noticed her tight clothes?”
“Uh, not noticed noticed, but I noticed, yeah.”
“Calm down, sugar,” said Autumn, elbowing him in the ribs playfully. “You’re not on the witness stand. We have to go say hi now, they just spotted us.”
“Ugh, do we have to? That woman they’re talking to is my ex.”
“That’s Cathy? You didn’t say that she had such big knockers.”
“Autumn!” hissed Steve, glancing around them. “Not so loud!”
“What, knockers isn’t a bad word.”
To Steve’s horror, she tugged on an elderly man’s sleeve and got his attention. “Excuse me, sir, is knockers a bad word?”
“Uh, no,” said the man, unable to keep a smile off his wizened face.
“See?” said Autumn, turning back to Steve, who had slapped a palm over his face. “Now, let’s go make your ex jealous so you can feel better.”
“I’d rather not talk to her at all.”
“Too bad,” said Autumn, pulling on his arm. “We’re going in!”
He had to laugh at her Vietnam-era chopper pilot sounds as they navigated their way through the milling throng to reach Phil and Crawley’s side.
“Oh no!” said Autumn, pretending to lock sights on Crawley. “It’s one of the yellow commies right there! Fire all weapons!”
Steve winced as she pantomimed firing a machine gun, complete with sound effects and vigorous jumping of her arms. Crawley seemed to take it in good humor, even narrowing her eyes comically and joining in.
“I get revenge, you western devil!” She emulated a stereotypical Asian accent while shaking her fist. “Some morning you wake up, there land mine under your head!”
Steve smiled apologetically at Phil. “They’re going to get us thrown out.”
“Hey, Steven,” said Cathy, tugging on Steve’s sleeve.
Steve turned to face her, carefully keeping his face a mask of neutrality. “Hello, Cathy. How’ve you been?”
“Busy, of course,” she said, shaking his hand. “Who’s your friend?”
“Girlfriend, actually,” said Autumn, taking her hand and smiling sweetly. “Nice to meet you.”
“I love your tattoos,” said Cathy, eying Autumn’s form. “I have a couple myself.”
“Oh, really? I’ve done some ink before, do you care if I see them?”
“Oh, I couldn’t do that here,” said Cathy, a cross between a sneer and a smile on her face. “But Steve can tell you all about them.”
“Steve’s never mentioned you, actually,” said Autumn, her voice pleasant but a bit of an edge creeping into her brown eyes.
“Let’s go get some champagne, babe,” said Steve, practically dragging Autumn away. When his back was turned Autumn stuck her tongue out at Cathy, then turned around and smacked a firm hand over Steve’s buttocks.
“What was that for?” Steve was rubbing his rump though he was laughing.
“Just marking my territory.”
“You don’t have to do that. Cathy doesn’t compare to you.”
“Oh, bull. She’s got a great rack, and her red hair is really pretty.”
“Yeah, but she’s more concerned about the way things look, or should be, than how they are. Might come from working in the PR field, but she never took my profession seriously. Used to call me ‘her boyfriend, the babysitter.’”
“Ouch.” Autumn squeezed his shoulder in sympathy. “I can see why you guys broke up, then. I know how hard you work, sugar. Some nights you just collapse into bed after a couple of beers.”
“Yeah.” Steve gratefully took two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter. “Sorry about that.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s not like we’re old marrieds yet.”
“If I was going to marry anyone, it’d have to be you.”
Autumn smiled, but there was a sad light in her eyes that seemed to belie it.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said, draining most of her glass in one go.
Steve pulled her toward the dance floor as a Frank Sinatra tune played over the speakers.
“No!” she said, literally dragging her heels. “I don’t dance to this kind of music!”
“Just one song.” He kept the pressure up until he finally pulled her along with him.
“Just one,” she said, allowing herself to be tugged in tight against his body. After some initial awkwardness, due to their difference in height, they were soon slowly sashaying around the wooden tiled floor. His hand was warm on her bare back, caressing the curve of her spine. She kneaded the muscles in his arm slightly, squishing around a big vein that was invisible under his sleeve.
“You know,” she said into his ear, “you’re not the type of man I thought I’d end up with.”
He smiled, pulling her more tightly against him. “What kind of man did you think you’d end up with?”
She laughed softly. “A jerk. You’re way too tall, and entirely too sensitive for your own good, but you’re definitely not a jerk.”
“Gee,” he said with mock indignation, “thanks.”
“I shouldn’t…I shouldn’t be with you.”
Steve stopped dancing to stare her in the eye. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t get all jealous,” she said, putting her head on his shoulder. “I don’t mean what you think I mean.”
“So explain,” he said as they began to dance once more.
She stiffened against him, the muscles in her back taut under his hand. “I can’t, not right now, not here. Let’s just dance, and forget about it, all right?”
“Does this have anything to do with that bottle I threw away?” Steve frowned slightly, his eyes staring starkly ahead as they continued to dance.
She made no verbal reply, just wrapped her arms around him more tightly and leaned her face against his chest.
“Take me home,” she said, patting his chest. “If you think I look good in this dress, wait till you see what’s underneath…”
“What’s underneath?”
“Something that cost waaay too much for less cotton than you’ll find in an aspirin bottle…”
On the cab ride home, they could barely keep their hands off each other. Her clandestine behavior, and the intangible pall it cast over them, seemed to demand an equal and opposite response. If it were possible to smolder her trepidation away with passion, Steve would surely have done it. By the time they had made it up to his apartment door, both were glassy eyed and breathing hard.
As soon as the door had shut behind them they embraced, mouths exploring each other as tiny cries and grunts escaped their throats. With a sudden, mischievous grin, Autumn put a palm to his chest and shoved him back onto a chair. He plopped down heavily, taken aback by the gesture. She sauntered over to his stereo, grinning over her shoulder as she put on music. She turned toward him and undid the string at the back of her neck. Steve watched with shining eyes and a slightly shy smile as she slowly peeled the silk away from her skin. She stepped out of the garment and let it fall to the floor, revealing a skimpy lace bustier and garter belt, matching her dark stockings. No panties blocked his view of her smoothly shaven nether region, and he found his body responding vigorously.
“Do you like it?” she asked sensuously.
“I love it.” He buried his face in her breasts, kissing them firmly but gently. Her hands teased his hair, nails scraping across his scalp in her vigor. Seizing her leg under the knee, he brought it up over his shoulder and dipped his head low.
“You’re so bad,” she said as his tongue wormed its way into her. “So baaaaad!”
Steve buried his face into her labia, rutting his mouth in to bask in her scent. Very gently, his tongue flicked over the ring in her quivering hood. She tilted her head back and gasped, nearly toppling both of them over as a wave of ecstasy washed over her.
“You like that, huh?” he said in a whisper, bri
efly pulling his moist face free.
“God, yes,” she said, hands encouraging him to return to his task.
Using his tongue, he hooked under the ring pierced through her flesh and pulled, gently at first and then more firmly. Her clit bulged against his lips, and he took it in his mouth like a fish taking bait. When he added suction, she nearly tore strands of his hair out as she was hit with a wave of contractions. All thoughts of her standoffish, enigmatic behavior left him as he concentrated solely on pleasing his woman. One hand curved around her buttocks, partially holding her steady, while his other kneaded a generous handful of her large bosom.
“That’s—” Autumn gasped “—that’s really nice…”
Steve kneaded the flesh of her buttocks as he redoubled his efforts. His fingers slid along her sweaty skin, arcing to the middle of her cheeks. Just the tip of his pinky touched the tight ring of muscle there, and he took her satisfied sigh as an indication that he had not crossed a line. Slowly, he worked his finger into the orifice, acting in concert with his tongue to drive her wild. He became lost in her body’s reactions, the wooden chair creaking dangerously under their combined weight as she lost control and let loose a scream that was sure to have his neighbor riled up.
“I need to sit down—” she gently pushed his head away “—while my legs still work.”
Sit down she did, carefully straddling his lap. As their bodies interlocked she gasped, eyes tightly shut.
“Are you okay?” He was trying to sound concerned though he was obviously distracted.
“I’m fine. It always kind of hurts going in…you’re huge.”
He tried to shrug in mock arrogance, but her suddenly swiveling hips caused him to gasp instead. Their hands clasped together as she leaned on him for support, grinding her sweaty pelvis against his. Their cries grew louder, drowning out the furious stomping from the upstairs apartment. Autumn let loose a scream that would have been blood-curdling under other circumstances, collapsing against him. With a loud snap, the chair finally gave up its fight. They ended up sitting on the floor, the remains of the chair still under his bare bottom. After a brief moment of shock they both laughed, Autumn putting her forehead against his chest.
Forever Autumn Page 13