Idol Urges
Idol Urges
by
Ruby Bassett
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Idol Urges
COPYRIGHT © 2013 by Kate Forest
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by
Arial Burnz
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com
Publishing History
First Scarlet Rose Edition, June 2013
Digital ISBN 978-1-61217-955-1
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To my husband, who tolerates all my crazy ideas, like writing a book.
I would like to thank my kids for giving me space and time to write. I would also like to thank the authors of VFRW. I couldn’t have done it without you gals.
Chapter One
Wendy Johnson possessed few memories of her father, and even fewer
happy
memories. So when she recalled the day he took her fishing, she wasn’t surprised when all she could picture was that slim silver fish—slimy iridescent scales and cloudy green eye—twitching with its last breath on the dock.
Jeremy’s tongue in her mouth continued to mimic that pathetic motion, despite her attempts to guide him otherwise. After another futile minute, Wendy pulled back and held him at arm’s length. Jeremy’s eyes were still closed, his mouth a perfect circle. His flaccid tongue poked out.
“Jeremy. Jeremy, I stopped!”
“Huh?” He opened his eyes.
“Could you drive me to class? I’ll be late.” Wendy put her hand down and buckled her seat belt. His BMW Z4 shouted the success of his dental practice, but Wendy’s pants were always damp from sitting on the leather seats that baked in the tropical Hawaiian sun. She wished they were damp for other reasons.
“Thanks for picking me up from work,” she said. “The bus takes too long.”
“Should I pick you up after class is over?” He flashed his gleaming smile. Jeremy was the whole package—strong jaw, perfect hair, surfer body, wealth, intelligence.
It just wasn’t a package Wendy wanted to open anymore. Sure, Christmas morning it’s in shiny wrapping paper with a big red bow. But once you get it open, it’s only another sensible sweater.
“No, I’m busy after class. I’ve got a lot of studying to do. It’s almost midterms.”
“You’re always studying.” He leaned over and whispered, “All work and no play makes Wendy a very pent up girl.”
His minty breath buzzed in her ear like a mosquito she couldn’t swat away. She hated that old saying. It just wasn’t true.
“Come on. You finished school. I have another year of college, and Law School after that,” Wendy said.
“You could marry me. Let me take care of you and your mother.”
“We’ve been over this. I don’t want to marry you. You know I don’t want to be dependent on anyone. I thought you supported me in getting a degree.”
“I do, but when is there time for us?”
Wendy gazed out the windshield at the shabby back entrance to the high-end resort where she worked, cleaning hotel rooms. This wasn’t the first time Jeremy asked for more of her attention. She should want to spend time with him. She should want to marry him. But he left her cold. Besides, she had to keep her focus on her studies at the University of Hawaii. There was no way she was going to be able to pull herself and her mother out of their situation if she stayed a hotel maid forever.
“There won’t be any time for us.” She turned to face him. “Jeremy, I don’t think we should see each other anymore. I’m so busy with school and you deserve someone who has time for you.”
He nodded and clenched his teeth, which was practically outlawed in dentistry. He must be fuming, but kept it to himself.
Wendy gripped the armrest as Jeremy put the car in gear and tore out of the employee parking lot. The short drive to campus seemed long because of his silence, but breaking up with him was the right thing to do.
He had never really turned her on. She wasn’t going to continue this relationship merely because it was convenient. She vowed never to be dependent on a man, and Jeremy was easy to depend upon.
“You’ll have to get to class on your own now,” he said as he pulled up to the lecture hall.
“I’ll take the bus.” She kept her head down as she picked up her school bag. “Sorry.” She pushed open the door.
Wendy stood with her best friend, Gloria, as they watched Jeremy’s convertible peel away and speed out the campus gates.
“What’s gotten into Dr. Teeth?” Gloria said.
“We broke up.” Wendy hiked her bag onto her shoulder.
“Good riddance.” Gloria nodded and her perfect blonde locks bobbed around her face.
The two turned to trudge toward Chemistry class. Wendy’s school bag bumped against her full bottom. She once again admired Gloria’s tall, blonde, thin, California looks. They didn’t share many personality features either, but their solid friendship was based on more important things.
“I know. I couldn’t stand him anymore. I should want to be with a man. But I don’t. I’m just too busy. I’ve got three classes this semester and the hotel keeps throwing extra shifts my way. Jeremy wanted me to marry him. He was going to take care of me and my mom, and I turned it all down. There was no electricity between us. If I can’t feel a spark with him, who
will
I feel a spark with? Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”
“Yes, you take things too seriously. Stop stressing so much.”
“Easy for you to say. Your parents are paying your way through school. Mom and I are barely getting by.”
They had climbed up the steps and the air conditioning hit them in the face as they pushed open the door to the lecture hall. It helped to cool Wendy’s temper. She shouldn’t get mad at her friend. It wasn’t Gloria’s fault that she came from a privileged background while Wendy and her mom struggled.
“Sorry,” Wendy said for the second time in an hour.
“Listen, I don’t mean to make light of your situation,” Gloria said. “I just think you, more than anyone else, need to have some fun. You work really hard at your job and you’re a straight-A student. If anyone deserves to let loose once in a while, it’s you. I don’t want to see you burnt out before you’re twenty-five.”
“Straight A’s except for Chemistry.”
“Well, you know what they say: All work and no play…”
Gloria winked as she took a seat in the lecture room. Wendy slid in next to her. That old saying might be true for most people. Most people could let their hair down once in a while, but Wendy knew what would happen if
she
let loose.
****
Wendy hated cleaning the honeymoon suite. Couples on their honeymoon hardly ever left the room. They ate in there, fucked in there, and did all
sorts
of things in the bathrooms. Still, they tended to be good tippers. She propped the door open and dragged the vacuum inside.
This one wasn’t too bad—no noticeable stains on the carpet or condom wrappers strewn about. She gathered up the bed sheets and pulled off the pillow cases.
The stack of bills on the bedside table beckoned her. Normally, she waited until she finished her shift to count her tips, but today the impending cost of bus fare drove her to calculate her earnings.
“Feeling generous,” she said. She pocketed the bills in her apron.
Tears stung her eyes as she envisioned a groom carrying his bride across the threshold and gently laying her on this bed
. Never going to happen
. She would not repeat the disaster her mother went through.
She glided the duster over the swooping outlines of the headboard. As she reached high for the light fixture, the rough fabric of her uniform chaffed the skin of her stomach. The friction warmed her body.
As Wendy carried her cleaning supplies into the bathroom, her head swam and she gripped the door for support. All kinds of images passed through her mind—her first boyfriend naked on his bed…a strip club her girlfriend had dragged her to. Her body became warm and flushed, making her already rosy complexion even redder.
When was the last time she had any relief for her urges? Franco, the dishwasher.
The one time they were together, he had her body humming like the industrial vacuum motor she pushed across the floor. His hands had moved so slowly, so gently, over her breasts. She arched her back now, with the memory of how her skin burned, her nipples peaked. His smooth skin had warmed her, even though now a tremor ran down her spine.
And when he had entered her…she exhaled and squeezed her thighs together, and let the vibrations of the machine run through her. His cock had filled her, caressed her from the inside, left her satisfied, for the first and last time in her life.
And then the phone calls had started. She shook her head and shut off the vacuum.
He had called wanting to take her to the movies. He called inviting her to a family picnic. He called just to see how her day had been. He wanted more than what she could, or should, give.
How can I have a boyfriend? I barely have time to eat?
She fanned herself with the “do not disturb” door hang. The images of Franco as
that
groom carrying
her
into the room demanded to be recognized.
Instead she mentally ran through her to-do list and made a note to ask her mother if she had paid the electric bill.
The physical work of cleaning the suite briefly distracted her. But her mind clouded with doubts and questions. She witnessed first-hand what happens when desires are allowed to run free and override responsibilities. Yet, her desires pulled her every day, away from what she must do.
She finished cleaning the suite and rolled her cart to the service elevator, then trotted down to the staff locker room.
At her locker, Wendy changed into her jeans and a loose top
“You can’t hide your big tits under that blouse,” Susan said from the locker next to hers.
“Not trying to hide.” Wendy released her chestnut curls out of the tie that was always too tight, but required for her job.
“Puhleeze. Since high school, you’ve had to fight guys off with a stick. Why you rejected each and every one of them, I’ll never understand.”
“Not all of us are as lucky as you. We can’t all find a guy like Billy.” Wendy had always known she would go to college and become a lawyer. Susan had always known she’d marry Billy.
“Speaking of which, why don’t you come over tomorrow night? Billy and his friends are having a party. Robert will be there.”
“Can’t—”
“No, don’t tell me you have classes on Friday nights. I know you don’t.” Susan crossed her arms. “You and I used to have so much fun. I know you’re serious about college, but all work and no play—”
“Stop!” Wendy held up her hand. “I hate that phrase.” She sighed. “Okay fine. I’ll come. But don’t fix me up with anyone. I just broke it off with Jeremy.”
“All the more reason. Robert’s perfect for you—the same studious type. He’s in his last year of his PhD program, studying eels, or fish, or something.” Susan applied lipstick while looking into the tiny mirror hung inside her locker.
“I’m serious, Susan. I’ll come to the party to get you off my back, but no guys. I want to focus on school for now.”
“How is that any different than what you’ve been focusing on?” Susan opened her eyes wide as she swiped on mascara.
“Are you going somewhere now? You’re all dressed up in that skirt and heels.”
“Just home. If Billy comes home from work in a good mood, we usually have a quickie before we make dinner together.”
Wendy smiled and hoped she looked understanding, or encouraging or something positive. But inside she pitied Susan. Susan had been just as bright as Wendy in school. They could be at college together, instead of stuck in this nowhere job. With Billy working as a grease monkey at a local garage, the couple barely had two nickels to rub together. Susan seemed so elated, she didn’t even know how hard her life was.
“Don’t back out on me. We’ve got to get you out of the house.” Susan grinned and placed her hand on Wendy’s arm, as if Wendy were the one who needed help.
“Yes, I promise. I’ll be there.”
“Good. See you tomorrow,” Susan called over her shoulder.
Wendy shoved open the door that led to the employee parking lot. Whereas, the front of the resort was done in coral pink with towering white columns framing the massive entrance to the luxurious world created by the staff, the back looked like any parking lot anywhere, with a loading dock and six-year-old Ford Escorts instead of the newest models of Mercedes that pulled up to the reception area.
