Getting Even (7 page)
Glenn pushes the silk fabric of my panties aside and strokes my nub so gently, I ache from it. He strokes, looks. Strokes, looks again. But he doesn’t touch me the way he knows I want to be touched.
“I’ve missed looking at you like this. Up close and personal.”
“I forgot how much you like to tease.”
“I’m teasing you?”
I meet his eyes. “Hell, yeah. If you only knew how much I wanted your cock inside me right now.”
Now he slips a finger into me. “We’ll get there.”
I gasp as his finger enters me. Waves of pleasure overwhelm me.
“You’re so tight,” he says.
“It’s been a long time for me.”
He groans his pleasure at what I’ve said. Pushing his finger deeper inside me, he covers my nub with his tongue. It’s heat on heat. I dig my fingers into his skin and moan.
“You…like…that?” he asks, licking me gently between words.
“Fuck yeah.”
Still working his finger inside me, he takes my nub completely into his mouth and suckles. My legs tremble—I can barely stand.
Glenn pulls away from me to say, “Lie back on the bed.”
I whimper softly, both wanting his tongue on me fiercely, and not knowing how much of it I can stand.
Glenn’s hands guide me backward to the bed. As I lie down, he settles right between my thighs, burying his face in my pussy and inhaling. A grumbling sound escapes him. “You’re amazing, Lishelle. Fucking amazing.”
He spreads my folds for better access to my clitoris. And then he is licking and suckling and I think I am going to die from the pleasure. He eats me like he’s waited his whole life to do this.
My body grows tense, like a string that’s being pulled, and pulled, and is starting to fray at the edges and will pop any minute.
I raise my head to watch him. Watch as his tongue works its magic. His moans turn me on as much as the sound of his suckling.
“I’m close. Oh, God.” My breathing is faster now, frenzied. “Look at me.”
Glenn lifts his gaze to mine, and our eyes connect. As I watch and feel his mouth on me in this very intimate way, every part of me starts to tremble. My orgasm erupts from my center and spreads over me like hot lava. I arch my back, calling out, “Oh, Glenn! Oh my God! Oh my God…”
I’m still moaning when I hear the tear of a condom package, and by the time I look up, Glenn is moving over me. I catch a glimpse of his impressive cock before he settles between my thighs and anchors his arms behind my knees.
He enters me with one hard, deep thrust, and I gasp from the pleasure and shock of it. It’s been so long, I forgot how amazing that first moment is—the very first moment when a penis penetrates your vagina.
Glenn settles inside me—deep—and doesn’t move. “Fuck, Lishelle, you feel so good.”
“
You
feel amazing.”
Finally, he starts to move, his strokes slow and deep and painfully pleasurable. Every one of them makes me quiver. Our momentum builds until Glenn is driving into me so hard and so fast that I get light-headed from this sensory overload.
“I can’t take it, baby. Oh, Glenn…I’m coming…”
I arch my back and cry out as Glenn takes me over the edge one more time. I grip the bedspread with all my might.
And then he makes that familiar grunt-giggle sound he does when he’s coming. I squeeze my inner walls around him.
A moment later, his body collapses onto mine. Our slick bodies rub against each other as our hot breath mingles. It’s amazing how good I feel, how easily Glenn and I reconnected after all these years.
I trail the tip of my tongue along his jawline to his ear. “How do you always do this to me? Make me so damn hot? I swear, my pussy has your name on it.”
He kisses me. A smoldering kiss that makes it clear just how much I do belong to him.
“I could stay like this all night, buried inside you. I really could.”
“So could I,” I answer honestly.
And it’s not just about the sex with Glenn.
No matter how much time has passed, no matter how many other guys I might date, the moment I’m with Glenn again, I know where my heart is.
I’m in serious trouble.
Glenn and I fucked three more times during the night, each time as explosive and satisfying as the first. I’m not lying when I say no other man has ever loved me like Glenn has. His body speaks to mine on some primal level I can’t understand, but I’m powerless to resist him anytime we get together.
He knows this, of course. Knows that he can call me a year from now and I’ll be there for him. Knows that I’ll get on my knees and let him ram me from behind. That I’ll take him in my mouth and deep throat him the way he loves. That I’ll cancel everything for a two-day fuck session.
Last night was incredible, but this morning I’m having regrets. And to be totally honest, I’m a little pissed off with myself. I needed to get laid. Needed it badly, so why am I letting emotion cloud the issue? Why not take Glenn for what he is—a great fuck partner who can always get me off in the most incredible way—and leave it at that?
Who am I trying to kid? I know it’s not nearly that simple. Last night, getting caught up in a wave of heat and desire, I forgot how unsettling the morning after with Glenn can be. It was the same way six years ago. It was that way the few times we fell into bed in the months after our relationship ended. Because I’ve always cared deeply for Glenn, whether he’s been in my life or not. And every time I have him for only a brief moment, I’m devastated when he’s gone.
No matter how much I tell myself that I’ll be fine without him, and move on after having amazing sex, that’s just not true.
Beside me, he is silent and still. I snuggle my back against his front and sigh. Maybe I’m a hopeless romantic, but I wish this moment would last forever. Us lying together like this. That there didn’t have to be a goodbye in the morning.
I’m surprised when Glenn links fingers with mine, because I thought he was sleeping. A moment later, he asks, “What are you thinking?”
“I thought you were asleep.”
“I’m not. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
“I’m not sure you want to know,” I answer honestly.
“Try me.”
“You’re leaving soon. Let’s just…enjoy our last moments together.”
He kisses my shoulder. “You never know. I might be thinking the same thing as you.”
Now he’s gotten my attention. I turn my body, positioning my breasts against the hard wall of his chest. I wonder if he’s playing with my mind.
“You really want to know?” I ask.
“Uh-huh.”
“And you want me to be completely honest?”
“Of course.”
“Then I’m thinking that I don’t know how I let myself go here again with you. Not that I don’t enjoy fucking you, but what am I doing? We had our chance to make things work out, and it never did. Now I see you once in a blue moon, and my body craves yours like nothing else I’ve known, but what’s the point? What’s going to come of this?”
“A whole lot can come from this.”
“Yeah, sure. More great sex.” I roll my eyes. “Where have you been for the last six years, anyway?” Having tied the knot myself, I’d put Glenn out of my mind. “I thought I’d never see you again,” I continue. “That you’d finally gotten married or something.”
Glenn laughs heartily, amused by the idea. “No, not married. And why do you think I’m here with you now? It’s because I can never quite get you out of my mind. How much you turn me on. How great we were together.”
“Then why do you always call me when you’re in town for just one night or two? It’s obviously about the booty call. Not that I’m complaining, but it’s getting harder for me to face you the morning after.”
“Ouch.”
“No, listen. You wanted honesty, and I’m giving it to you.” I want to make Glenn see reason. “We can’t do this anymore, no matter how much I might want to.” Because you still have a part of my heart….
Maybe that’s why the sex is so good, and that’s why I haven’t exactly moved on. That’s why I always end up comparing other guys to you. Even the man I married.
“Lishelle—”
“I can’t believe I’m admitting this to you, but it hurts when you leave me. There. I said it. And that’s why we can’t get together for these trysts once in a blue moon anymore,” I say, unable to stop now. “I’ll be thirty-one in August. I have to find my Mr. Right and settle down.”
“Wow,” Glenn says slowly. “You certainly got a lot off your chest.”
“You wanted to know. And look, it’s not like we’re not friends, right? We can be honest with each other.” Despite myself, I run a finger down the center of his chest. “I just don’t want us to be friends who fuck each other anymore.”
“No?”
“Well…after today, I mean.” Shit, I’m already getting horny again.
Glenn moves his body so that he’s now on top of me. He surprises me with a soft kiss on the forehead. I was sure he was going to lock lips with me and leave me begging for him to make me come again.
“What if I said I didn’t want us to stop sleeping with each other?”
“Then I’d say you were being selfish and unfair to me. I don’t even know what you’re doing now. I know nothing about you.”
“I’m a pilot.”
Surprised at his announcement, my eyes meet his. “Really?”
“Uh-huh. All-American Air.”
“How—when—”
“While I was in L.A. waiting for my big break, I was taking flying lessons. I started, oh, about seven years ago. Then the big break never came. And here I am.”
I’m impressed. Really impressed. But I say, “A pilot. See—you could have a girlfriend in every city in the country. That’s exactly why this has to end.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend in every city in the country, but yeah, maybe I am a bit selfish like you said. But there’s a reason for that.”
“I can guess what that is.”
“Probably not.” He pauses. “I’m in love with you, lady.”
He’s looking right into my eyes as he says the words, a steady gaze that doesn’t waver.
I ask, “What did you say?” Can he be serious?
“It doesn’t matter where I go, or where I’ve been. I always end up right back here with you. Why do you think that is?”
“Because I’m an easy lay?”
He chuckles, and the warmth of his laugh fills my body. “I’m easy, too. But only with you.”
“Stop lying.”
“I swear.” His lips capture mine in a gentle, earnest kiss. “Honestly, Lishelle, why do you think I keep coming back to you? Six years have passed at this point. I could easily have moved on. I’ve met other women, sure, but no one can compare to you. I know now that I’ll never be able to get you out of my heart.”
Even though I don’t want it to, my heart starts to fill with hope. “You mean that?”
“Hell, yeah. So why don’t we stop playing around and get back together.”
“Get back togeth—”
“Start dating again. But this time, knowing that we’re headed on the path till death do us part.”
I eye Glenn cautiously. “I don’t understand.”
“Are you listening to me? I’m telling you I love you. I’ve been in love with you the whole time we’ve been apart. And I’m ready, babe. Ready to make it work between us.”
“Glenn.” I frame his face and arch my hips against him. “Oh, Glenn.” I kiss him deeply.
He breaks the kiss and asks, “Should I take that as a yes?”
“It took you long enough, you big jerk.”
I can’t believe the words that have come out of my mouth. I can’t believe what’s just happened. And so easily. But Glenn’s warm smile makes me feel entirely comfortable. Makes me feel this is right. That it’s finally our time.
“I know,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re going to have to make it up to me,” I tell him. “Right now.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah.”
“What did you have in mind?”
I spread my legs and wrap them around his waist. “There’s only one punishment that’s fitting,” I tell him as his penis hardens against my stomach. “Do me, baby,” I whisper hotly in his ear. “Do me good.”
Claudia
I
feel as if I’m going through hell with the wedding plans, and honestly, Adam isn’t helping. Before, I thought his I’m-a-man-I’m-totally-clueless routine was kind of cute, but right now it’s just plain aggravating. There’s still so much to do, and I need a break from it.
That’s why, as I approach the front door of Liaisons this Sunday morning, I feel a burst of happiness, knowing that I’m going to see my dearest friends.
Only Annelise is seated at our booth when I walk into the restaurant just before one o’clock. Every Sunday afternoon, Annelise, Lishelle and I have brunch at this restaurant in Buckhead, which serves the best brunch in the city as far as I’m concerned. We’re so regular, the hostess saves our table for us.
It’s a time for us to sit back, relax and catch up on each other’s week while enjoying great food. Even though we talk quite a bit during the week with each other, during our brunches we really get to let loose.
“Hey,” I say in a singsong voice as I reach the table. Annelise shoots to her feet, a wide smile on her face. She gives me a long hug.
“How are you, hon?” she asks.
“Ugh, stressed. This wedding’s killing me.”
“I know the feeling. I’m stressed, too.”
“Oh?” I slink into the booth’s soft leather. “Your wedding plans giving you grief?”
“No.” She flashes a sugary smile. “But I’ve had a shitty week at work. Two customers canceled on me, and I was counting on that cash.”
“Oh no.”
“Lots to tell, but only after you get your first cup of coffee.”
“I was thinking more like a mimosa today.”
Annelise’s eyes light up. “Thank God. I didn’t want to be the only one.”
She raises a hand to flag down the waitress, and moments later, Sierra, a petite Asian woman, comes to our table.
“Hello, Claudia,” Sierra greets me. “How are you?”
“I’m great,” I tell her. “You?”
“Busy. Taking a summer course in physics.” She rolls her eyes. “What can I say?”
Despite the fact that Sierra has worked here as a waitress for the past two years, she’s studying to be a doctor. I’m impressed. And a little envious. I’ve always wanted to go to med school. My father is a top neurosurgeon, and the profession fascinates me. But despite my schooling, I knew I’d never pursue a career. That’s the way it is for a self-respecting society woman like myself. The average woman today doesn’t understand that concept, that a woman in my position doesn’t actually work outside the home. She supports her husband in his aspirations, does volunteer work for worthy causes, raises children, works the society circles. One day soon, Adam will be in the political arena, and I’ll need to be by his side. He’ll need a full-time wife to support him.
“Two mimosas,” Annelise is saying to the waitress when I tune back in to the conversation.
“Lishelle’s not coming?” Sierra asks.
“You’re right, make it three,” Annelise decides. “If she doesn’t show up anytime soon, I can always drink hers.” Annelise makes light of her statement with a smile, but I know she’s serious. Which means she really must have had a shitty week.
“Help yourself to the buffet whenever you’re ready,” Sierra tells us. And then she’s off to deal with more customers.
I glance at my watch. It’s now one-ten. “Have you heard from Lishelle?”
Annelise shakes her head. “But I assume she’s coming. I mean, she’d call if she weren’t—right?”
“Right. It’s just not like her. She’s usually the first one here.”
“She’s probably stuck in traffic.”
“Yeah, probably.” Sierra suddenly appears with a tray of drinks. “Wow, that was fast,” I tell her. Both Annelise and I sip our drinks, then Annelise looks up.
“Speak of the devil…”
I turn. There’s Lishelle, gliding toward the table.
“Hello, ladies,” she practically sings.
If I’m not mistaken, Lishelle has extra pep in her step. And she’s glowing. Yeah, she’s definitely glowing. What the hell happened to make her so happy?
“That must be for me,” Lishelle comments, reaching for the extra mimosa as she sits beside me in the booth. “Perfect.” She takes a sip. She looks from me to Annelise. “Ooh, Annie. That’s a really nice dress. You’re showing a lot of cleavage. That’s not like you.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve got to do something.”
“I don’t follow you,” Lishelle says.
“I’ve been having problems with Charles. In the bedroom. He won’t…well, he won’t touch me with a ten-foot pole, if you want to know the truth.”
“At all?” Lishelle asks.
“At all.”
“I’m so sorry to hear you’re having trouble again.”
“Again?” Annelise laughs without mirth. “It’s been a constant for nearly fifteen months.”
“Fifteen
months?
”
“Apparently,” I chime, and Lishelle looks at me in surprise. “She only told me a few days ago,” I point out.
“I know you were having trouble before,” Lishelle says, “but I thought you got past that. You haven’t said anything for what, a year?”
“I’ve been too embarrassed.” Annelise then fills Lishelle in on all she told me earlier in the week.
“And Charles,” Lishelle begins, “is he…reacting?”
“I spent five hundred dollars on new clothes, new bras, sexy shoes—and nothing.”
“Wow.” Lishelle reaches across the table and covers Annelise’s hand. “I don’t know what to say.”
“What
can
you say? I’m starting to wonder if my marriage is in serious trouble.”
“No,” I assure her. “Charles loves you.”
“Every time he rejects me, it chips away at my self-esteem. A little more here, a little more there.”
“How can we help?” Lishelle asks.
“Just be there for me, I guess. Listen to me whine.” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Have you talked to Charles about this?” I ask.
“If I even try to talk about why we’re not having sex, he gets upset. Defensive. Sometimes I’ll ask if he’s upset with me or what, and he tells me he’s busy. Stressed. That my impatience is only making him more stressed.”
“I’m sorry,” Lishelle says. “But if he isn’t having sex with you, don’t you think he’s fucking someone else? Let’s face it—what guy doesn’t want to have sex with his wife? You ask me, that’s a neon sign that he’s dipping his cock in another pussy.”
Annelise reels backward, looking absolutely crushed. I shoot Lishelle a glare. She gives me an “I’m sorry” look.
I’ll be honest—the same thought occurred to me regarding Charles screwing around—but I know Annelise isn’t ready to hear that.
I try a more tactful approach. “What if Charles is having some sort of medical problem?” I offer. “That could explain why he’s acting the way he is. Defensive. Standoffish. Unwilling even to hear any talk about lovemaking. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to start something he can’t finish with you.”
“Oh my God.” Annelise’s eyes light up. “Do you think that could be it?”
“It’s a possibility.”
“It would explain a lot,” Lishelle adds. “Let’s face it, you and Charles were the type who couldn’t keep your hands off each other.”
“Which is what makes all of this even harder to deal with.” Annelise sighs sadly.
“Maybe you should ask him about it,” I suggest. “In a point-blank way. Tell him that you love him more than anything, that you’re there for him, and that if he’s having some sort of problem you’ll still be by his side. You know how guys are—they don’t want to admit that they’re having sexual problems. But if you ask if he’s having some sort of problem, and make sure to tell him you’ll support him no matter what…”
“God, I think you’re right,” Annelise says. “It didn’t even occur to me. I figured it was me who did something wrong, and he’d lost interest. My sister suggested I buy sex toys and sexy clothes—none of which has worked. How can it work if he’s got some sort of medical problem?”
“You won’t know for sure until you talk to him,” I point out.
“I’m going to do that. I have to know. If he’s got some sort of medical issue, I’ll feel so relieved. You don’t know how awful I’ve felt, being rejected by the man I love more than anything.” Her eyes began to tear up.
“I can only imagine,” Lishelle says. I catch the look that I hope Annelise missed—one that says Lishelle isn’t convinced Charles’s problems are medical.
“Enough about me and my problems in the bedroom.” She’s more composed now. “Tell us the latest with the wedding plans, Claudia. Four weeks away!”
I groan. “I’m so stressed.”
“Honey, why? You’ve got that great wedding planner.”
“But there are still a million things to be done. And Adam is seeming less and less interested.”
“When I got married, David was the same way. Could care less about the plans. And the closer we got to the big day, the more he seemed disinterested. I think guys can only handle so much talk about cakes and dresses and food courses. They want to go on the honeymoon already.”
“Charles was actually very helpful, and very interested in all the details—and even he freaked out once and told me he didn’t want to hear another word about colors or food or anything more to do with wedding plans. You remember—that was the weekend he took off and went to Macon to go fishing with his brother.”
I crack a smile. I do remember. And I remember how unhappy Annelise was at the time, how she seemed on the verge of having a breakdown.
Is that the kind of bride I’ve become? Uncool, uncalm and uncollected?
“In other words,” I begin, “you both think I’m freaking out over nothing.”
Annelise and Lishelle nod in unison.
“It’s just the way guys are,” Lishelle points out.
“Okay. I’ll try not to lose my head over this stuff. I have to go to New York on Tuesday for another fitting, and after that, my gown should be ready.” Nerves tickle my stomach. “Wow. I can’t believe May twenty-seventh is coming so soon!”
“
And
your thirtieth birthday.”
“I’ve all but forgotten about that.”
“We were thinking to take you out that night,” Annelise says. “Do a stagette-slash-birthday-party thing.”
“Before you know it, you’ll be a married woman, on a beach somewhere fucking your brains out.”
I can’t help but crack a smile at Lishelle’s comment, however crude. “That’s a nice thought.”
“I might just have to tag along with you,” Annelise jokes.
Little does she know, the way Adam’s behaving now, he might just be down with that.
Lishelle sighs dreamily, and I can no longer wait for her to blurt out the secret she’s hiding. Because I
know
she’s hiding something. It’s just like her to get all giddy and silent when there’s something she’s not telling.
“All right, Lishelle,” I say. “What is it? Ever since you walked through that door, you’ve been trying to hide this huge grin.”
“I do have something to share, but I’m not sure this is the right time,” she says coyly.
“Of course it’s the right time!” I exclaim. Now I’m dying to know what’s going on with her.
“Not that I don’t want to tell you, but after you’ve both shared not-so-positive stuff, it’ll seem like I’m gloating to share my good news.”
“Enough already,” I tell her. “Spill the beans!”
“You’re seeing someone, aren’t you?” Annelise’s eyes light up. “Oh my God—you crawled out of bed with him just before you came here!”
“Well…”
“Oh my God,” I utter. “You
did.
”
A guilty smile spreads across Lishelle’s face. “Yeah, I did.”
I couldn’t be more shocked—or more curious. “Last week, you said you were swearing off dating.”
“I know. Believe me, I’m more shocked than anyone to be in a relationship right now.”
“A
relationship?
” I ask. “What’s going on?”
“Do you guys really want to hear this now?”
“Yes!” Annelise and I exclaim in unison.
“Okay.” Lishelle is really beaming. I haven’t seen her this happy since—
“I’m seeing Glenn again.”
My stomach sinks. “Glenn? As in Baxter?”
The guy who only knows how to hurt you?
“Yes,” Lishelle gushes. “And I know what you might think, but this is it, ladies. Finally it.”
Annelise squeals with excitement. I reach for my mimosa and take a huge sip.
“How did this happen?” Annelise asks.
“He called me Friday night at the station. I didn’t want to, but I went to see him. And we clicked, like we always do. Then, the next morning, I was upset that I’d fallen into bed with him. We got to talking and he said he’s always loved me, that he wants us to be together.”
“And you believe him?” I can’t help asking.
“I do.”
I finish the last of my mimosa. While I want to be thrilled for Lishelle, I can’t help remembering how Glenn has hurt her in the past.
“I’m so happy for you,” Annelise says. “I know how much you’ve always cared for him.”
“That’s the hell of it. I still love him. Isn’t it insane? That’s the real reason I can’t resist him. It’s not just the sex.”
“You sure about that?” I ask.
She turns to me and nods. “The sex Friday night was off the hook. But Saturday morning, I couldn’t detach my emotions from what had happened. I told Glenn we couldn’t see each other like this whenever he got the itch. That’s when he told me he’s in love with me and wants our relationship to work. He was supposed to leave yesterday afternoon, but there was a last-minute change in his schedule. We hung out like friends the whole day. It wasn’t about the sex at all. Until later, of course,” she finishes with a sheepish grin.
“When it’s time, it’s time,” Annelise comments.
“That’s what I think.”
“Look, it takes some guys a long time. Look at Big in
Sex and the City.
”
“Exactly,”
Lishelle gushes. “I always wanted Carrie to end up with Big.”
“Oh, me, too.”
Maybe Lishelle notices that I’m not saying anything, because she suddenly turns to me. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“Me? I’m not…I’m not thinking anything. Just enjoying…” I look at my empty glass. “I need another mimosa. Aren’t they great?”
“Don’t change the subject. You’re thinking that I’m making a mistake. And I hear you. I know why you think that. But this time, it’s different. This time, it’s real.”