Enchanted Again (21 page)

“Pardon me,” he said as he brushed Jessica lightly. She liked him. When the jogger had passed, he asked, “Are you visiting the city or do you live here?” And all of a sudden they were talking. Jessica’s mood had turned sociable and cheerful. Derrick was attentive and forthright, but he kept the topics light, never getting too serious or personal. Jessica found herself comparing him to Steve, who was often distant and introspective. Steve did not have the natural charisma that Derrick possessed. At first, Jessica had found Steve’s reserved, detached manner intriguing, but lately it failed to charm. It was becoming apparent that what she had mistaken for depth was merely selfishness, and she felt cheated. She yearned for romantic overtures.

It had come to the point in their conversation where they would part ways, perhaps forever, or make plans to see each other again. Once again, Derrick managed the situation with expert aplomb.

“I would like to see you again,” he told her honestly. The subject of Steve had never come up.

“I would like that, too,” she said, blushing and slightly uncomfortable. Guilt twisted her insides, but she purposefully ignored it, remembering Linda’s advice.

“Tomorrow night?” He was not one to waste any time, she noticed. A strange trepidation gripped her. She was not ready to set a definite time.

“I have plans…” she said hesitantly.

Derrick picked up on her hesitancy and once again exercised discretion.

“Why don’t I give you my telephone number,” he said kindly. “If you would like to get together, or talk even, give me a call.” He pulled a card from his pocket and placed it in her hand.

Jessica left him feeling a disturbing mixture of giddy excitement and guilty anxiety. Instinctively, the conflict drew her to Linda.

“Okay,” Linda began, trying to control her excitement as she settled them both on her couch with martinis in hand, never mind that it was still so early in the day. “Start at the beginning and don’t leave out a single detail!” She stared wide-eyed at Jessica’s face expectantly. Her enthusiasm was catching and the guilty feelings Jessica had been feeling subsided a bit in the exhilaration of something interesting to tell. She recounted all the minutest details of her morning in the park, leaving nothing out. Linda listened, enthralled.

“That is exactly the kind of guy you need,” Linda announced when Jessica had finished.

“You don’t even know him,” laughed Jessica. “
I
don’t even know him.”

“Yes, but I know men,” replied Linda with authority. She quickly began summing up the crucial details of Derrick’s character, wrapping it all up with, “This Derrick sounds like he has the confidence to treat a woman right…unlike Steve.” The mention of Steve brought back Jessica’s anxiety.

“Yes…” She sighed unhappily and took another sip of her martini. “Steve.”

“Forget Steve,” Linda said with an annoyed little wave of her hand. “You have jumped through hoops trying to get a relationship out of him. He doesn’t deserve you. You
have
to go out with Derrick.”

“But…I’m not ready to lose Steve,” Jessica said.

“Then don’t tell him,” Linda replied simply. “Personally, if it was me, I would rub his nose in it. But not telling him might be better. Wait until you’re ready to dump him for good. Old Stevey boy won’t know what hit him.”

“I don’t think I could do that to Steve.” Jessica felt another pang of guilt.

“Why not?” Linda chewed thoughtfully on an olive as she prepared her next line of reasoning. “Don’t you know that is exactly what he would do to you? Why do you think he can’t commit long term? For God’s sake, wake up! He’s holding out for the bigger, better deal. He has the charm of a cockroach, which is probably why he hasn’t found anyone else yet, but if and when he does, you’ll be out like yesterday’s trash.”

These words had enough reality in them to stir the old anger and resentment that Jessica had been mulling over. “You’re probably right,” she conceded.

“Call Derrick!” Linda said, bouncing excitedly on the couch. “Call him right now and tell him you had a change of plans for tomorrow night.” But Jessica was not ready to do that. She needed to think about it. What, really, was her obligation to Steve? It was true that they had made a mutual promise not to see anyone else, at Steve’s request, but why not make a more permanent commitment then? What did their agreement really mean when one of the two kept it temporary? How could such an agreement be binding when they couldn’t even discuss what it meant?

Later, when Jessica got home, Steve was waiting for her in an unusually gregarious mood. He greeted her with genuine affection for a change, holding her tightly in his arms for longer than was usual. Then he led her to the couch, positioning her on his lap and asked her about her day. Normally, this kind of attentiveness would have acted as a cathartic to Jessica’s hungry soul. On this particular occasion, however, his romantic behavior had the opposite effect. She felt confounded by his sudden attentiveness, which reminded her of a bad hairstyle that suddenly looks fabulous on the day you go to the hairdresser’s. Why couldn’t he have made this effort the previous night, when she had wanted to talk? She wondered if he suspected something. But how could he? Even so, as the night wore on, Jessica became convinced that he must have sensed her inner detachment from him. Her friend’s advice to “shake the sugar tree” came to mind. And once again the old resentment reared up inside her. His generous behavior seemed almost malicious to her when it was doled out for the purpose of controlling her.

Still, there was enough love remaining that she could feel herself melting somewhat, in spite of her misgivings. By dinnertime, Jessica was fully enthralled with Steve, and secretly sighed in relief that she had not stepped over the line by calling Derrick. And by the time they were ready to retire, she was filled with desire for him. At least there, between the sheets, Steve’s quiet determination suited her to perfection.

Jessica pondered this in the shower, as she prepared for bed. There really were so many things she loved about Steve. She shuddered as she thought about his hands, so lean and strong, embodying everything that she loved most about him. They were awe inspiring in their beauty and grace and precision. Like him, they were meticulous. In everyday life, it could be tiresome, his quiet insistence to have things so particularly his way; but at night it pleased her to have his sinewy and capable hands laboring over her body, effectively bringing it to life. They brought her pleasure and comfort and safety. She scolded herself for her earlier indiscretion. She had given the man from the park way too much credit. Anyone could be charming on a first encounter. What did she know about him, really? She felt embarrassed. This was always the way with her; she idolized the men she met too quickly, only to begin picking them apart once she had them in her life, searching for…searching for what? she wondered.

She told herself that she owed Steve the opportunity to prove himself as she crept into bed and his waiting arms. She snuggled close within his warmth. Very slowly and stealthily his hands began moving over her skin. They started at the small of her back and from there his fingers moved up along either side of her spine, not just moving, but meandering—almost crawling really—over and along her tingling flesh. He kissed her as his fingers made their way over her, and his kiss was hard and intense and warm, awkward by comparison to his expert touch, but pleasant for all that. There were no words exchanged between them, for Steve remained quiet in the bedroom, too, but when he touched her this way, it seemed to Jessica that his hands were saying what his lips could not.

She moaned and rolled onto her back as his hands worked their way round to her breasts. He was the first man who caressed her breasts without mangling them. He did not brutally crush them with his hands, disfiguring them, or pull at them greedily like a nursing child. With the same gentle expertise one would use to nimbly thread a needle, he tenuously approached her breasts with the tips of his fingers as receptive as antennas. They lightly grazed the tender undersides of the fleshy mounds, causing them to raise and tighten. Next, he flicked over the stiffening nipples and back again, only just teasing them to hardness at first, but then more methodically stroking and pinching them, applying just the right amount of pressure to coax and give pleasure. When he touched her like this she felt that he truly must care for her. She believed he was, at that moment, more aware of her needs than his own, to bring her pleasure with such painstaking precision.

But too soon his hands moved away and onward, stealing closer and closer to the object of his own need and desire. Like ten individual organisms acting of their own accord, his fingers crept systematically over her abdomen, inching over the entire span in their trail, leaving the flesh rigid with glorious bumps reaching out for more. By the time they tentatively probed between her legs she was shuddering with pleasure.

In spite of her ever-growing arousal, Jessica could not help feeling equal parts distress and pleasure with every advance of Steve’s hands. Like the glass half-empty, she was aware of a loss whenever he abandoned one part of her for another. She was ever conscious of a poignant longing for something more. This longing was not for the climax that they both might shortly achieve, but rather, for a pinnacle never to be reached. It was a longing for the one thing that was always missing. Even now, while she reveled in his absolute attention and rigorous concentration as his fingers nimbly coaxed her clitoris to life, she sighed in mutual pleasure and discontent. Her pleasure was bittersweet; for she was always keenly aware that his efforts were bringing her closer to the end. It pained her that his flawless caresses seemed to be rushing her toward the end she was longing to delay. And she felt overall that for all his skillful lovemaking, he really cared little for her. This was the only time she received his full attention, and he spent it pining after the conclusion. It was not that he would find satisfaction before she did—he was far too cunning for that—but rather, that he needed nothing more from her once it was over. And she knew also that no matter how long it lasted, it would never be long enough for her. If only she could find a way to capture his attention so fully outside of their lovemaking she might not suffer so. And so, with the usual mixture of discontent and resentment dampening her desire, she opened her legs to his touch, and allowed her body to melt under his adept and perceptive caress.

As was the case with all of his caresses, upon reaching her most sensitive area, Steve did not disturb and annoy her with his fingers as other men were often known to do, but with that same meticulous precision of his, he carefully worked the length of one finger between the lips of her labia while expertly massaging her clitoris with another finger from that same hand. In this way he carefully gauged her responses to him, expertly tracking her progress by the swelling and wetness of her inner flesh. If his efforts were not achieving the desired effect, he would adjust his strokes over her clitoris accordingly, all the while keeping his finger securely inside her cunningly measuring her readiness for him. And even as she writhed in pleasure around the rigid finger that held her, Jessica had the sense that he was really only waiting, like a spider in a web, to open herself up enough for him to spring. He kissed her tenderly while his fingers kept coaxing her. By and by she succumbed, crying out and clawing at him feverishly as she climaxed.

Without a word Steve withdrew his finger and moved up and over her to straddle her chest, poising himself over her mouth. His breathing was ragged, but otherwise he made no sound. She opened her mouth and took all of his rigid fullness inside. Suddenly she was seized with a fervent desire to pull a reaction from him. If only she could incite the same passion in him that she was feeling. She began to suck on him more energetically than was usual. Still, he remained silent. She was becoming almost enraged by his lack of emotion, and was determined to draw him out there in her bedroom, even if she could not reach him in any other part of their life. She longed to have him feel what she felt, and was determined to make him feel it. She would have welcomed even anger from him if that was the only response she could muster and she began to nip at him, lightly at first, as she sucked on him even more vigorously. She felt him stiffen at the light nipping, and became more brazen with her teeth, careful not to actually injure him, but with the intent to give him discomfort. Steve pulled himself out of her mouth carefully, and moved wordlessly between her legs. With remarkable control and self-possession he mounted her.

Jessica wrapped her arms and legs around Steve violently as he entered her, still in a frenzy of passion, and she jerked his head down toward hers for a kiss. She sucked furiously on his tongue and bit his lip. Steve pulled his head away and looked down at her, slightly surprised. He was bewildered by the passion he found burning in her eyes. He became even more controlled and tender with her in response, slowly pulling himself out of her and then methodically pushing himself all the way back in. She struggled beneath him, moving her hips against his body in an effort to quicken his torturously slow pace and further titillate herself by stroking her clitoris aggressively against him. She yearned to make him lose control. It infuriated her to have him remain so composed while she burned so hot. Angrily she ran her nails down the length of his back, hard and with the intent to draw blood. Steve grasped her hands and held them securely at her sides. He continued his slow, easy strokes meanwhile as he continued to look down into her face. Jessica struggled to free her arms, grasping him more violently with her legs. Although she could not engage Steve in her rough play, his strength as he held her compounded her desire. But she was ever aware that she wanted more from him, and she felt herself wondering what Derrick, the man from the park, would have done in his place. Something in Derrick’s manner caused her to think that he would have enjoyed the rough play and responded in kind. Somehow, in her overly aroused state, this thought took hold and she found herself imagining Derrick taking her aggressively while Steve looked on. These images were quickly escalating into a fantasy that Jessica fervently wished would come true. She clung to Steve as if he really were Derrick, and the look on Steve’s face as he watched her with his expression of surprise enhanced the fantasy for her. She stared up into Steve’s eyes as he watched her; he was always silently watching her. Suddenly she felt she was watching him watch her from across the room while Derrick made love to her. She screamed as she reached another orgasm.