Impossible Things (6 page)

She watched their reflection in the mirror as he leaned forward and put his mouth on her shoulder and gently bit down. The feel of his teeth through the fabric of her dress was so erotic
that it made her head fall back and her eyes close, but he reached up and gently pushed her head up so that their eyes met in the mirror again.

“Watch,” he whispered.

At that point she was beyond rational thought. She was being led by an overwhelming curiosity of what he would do next and the steady throb of desire that was beating in her veins.

He pulled her dress up until she could see the white nylon of her panties. His touch when it came was light, and she watched as his finger pressed against the
white fabric. She gasped at the touch, and as their eyes met in the mirror he moved his hand inside the nylon, and then his fingers were on her bare flesh.

Doubts began to penetrate the fog of her mind, and she saw that he knew it. His mouth went back to her ear and he murmured soothing words. Their eyes were still locked as she felt his fingers brush against her
and then gently part her. When the tip of one finger found its way inside her she whimpered with the sheer pleasure of it and watched as his pupils contracted in desire.

She was filled with a desire that made her lust for the ring seem petty in comparison but despite that the rational part of her brain began to wake up and she saw herself standing with her dress around her hips with a strange man’s hand in her panties, touching her.

Despite the soft circles that his finger was making against the most sensitive part of her, and the feelings that were sweeping through her, she realized with mounting horror what she was doing and she made a noise of protest.

He looked up, met her eyes again, and his closed for a second before he pulled his hand away and stepped back.

He pulled her dress down, bent over, picked her coat up off the floor, and helped her put it on. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I shouldn’t have…I went too far. I lost control.”

He stepped towards her, gently smoothed her hair back in place, and then glanced around the room as if to assess how it looked. He turned back to her and led her back to her chair. She felt it as he planted a light kiss on the top of her head, but before she could say anything he had pressed the small, discrete button on the desk that would bring the salesman back.

Desire was still running rampant through her veins, and she pressed her legs tightly together to stem it, as she waited for him to say something else. But before he could the salesman was tapping on the door and opening it.  “Have you decided sir?” 

“How much?” the stranger asked as he took a checkbook from an inside jacket pocket and began to fill out a check. The salesman cleared his throat, “Forty-eight sir.” 

Forty-eight? Forty-eight what? She asked herself, then it hit her and she blurted out, “Forty-eight thousand pounds?” 

The salesman met her eyes for the first time and nodded.

She had to grab onto something to stay in her seat, and the only thing near her was the stranger, so she put her hand on his arm, and leaned against him but he never looked up. He finished writing the check and handed it to the salesman who said, “Very good sir. Let me get the box and paperwork for you.” 

But the stranger was already on his feet. “Just send it to my address,” he said before taking her hand and pulling her to her feet as well. 

“Yes sir. Of course sir.”

The stranger opened the door and led her back down the hallway and into the showroom. She met the eyes of a man behind the counter and she felt herself blush as she wondered if he knew what they had been doing.

When they were out on the street and the cold air hit her face, reality struck. She jerked away from the stranger and came to a stop. He turned to look at her and his gorgeous face was serious as his eyes searched hers. There were a million thoughts running through her head and she didn’t know where to start. Finally she came up with, “You can’t buy me a forty-eight thousand pound ring.”

His mouth turned up into a grin and tiny lines radiated out from the corners of his eyes as he said, “I already did.” 

“I can’t keep it!” 

He smiled again and his white teeth were so bright against his face that it distracted her. He took the opportunity to lean forward, and for the first time, he kissed her.

They stood on one of the most expensive streets in London connected by mouth as the world moved around them. His kiss made the kisses that she and Sam shared seem childish and innocent by comparison. He didn’t invade, and it seemed as if he gave far more than he took, but when it was over she felt as if she had nothing left.

When he finally pulled back she watched a look that she didn’t understand cross his face. Was it regret? She wasn’t sure, but before she could say anything he turned, and walked away, leaving her alone on the street while snow began to fall around her, and the forty-eight thousand pound ring on her finger.

Chapter Eight

She watched in shock as he walked away, and turned the corner. He never once glanced back at her. She stood on that street for thirty minutes watching the direction he had gone in, expecting that he would come back, but he never did. When she finally realized that she managed to find a cab, too upset to worry about the expense.

When she got home Sam was still at work and she was glad. She didn’t know how she was going to face him after what had just happened. She knew that she should be feeling guilty but she didn’t; more than anything she felt raw, as if the outer layers that had protected her heart from the world were gone.

She took a long, hot soak in the tub, and while lying there she raised her hand and stared at the ring on her finger, trying to make sense of what had happened. But over and over again her thoughts scatted and all she could remember was the stranger, and the way that he had touched and kissed her. 

When the water was too cold to stand any longer she got out, wrapped herself in a towel, and searched through her dresser for something soft. When she found an old t-shirt she looked at the ring one last time, took it off, and carefully wrapped it up. She buried it beneath her nightgowns in the dresser. She would take it back to the store in the morning. 

Sam got home late that night, and she was already in bed. When he tried to pull her to him she resisted for some reason that she didn’t understand. Thinking that she was asleep he rolled over and left her alone
, and she lay awake for the rest of the night listening to his soft snores as she agonized over what had happened.

When she finally fell asleep at dawn it was only to dream about the stranger and when she woke it was to her own soft whimpers of desire. She turned to look at Sam, still asleep beside her, and reached down to touch herself. She was thinking about the stranger’s fingers on her, and his eyes as he touched her, when she felt the bed next to her depress. She opened her eyes to see Sam staring back at her. “What are you doing?” he asked.

She didn’t answer him, she couldn’t. So he reached down and lifted the covers back. She didn’t look down; instead she watched his face as he saw where her fingers were and what they were doing. He looked back up at her and asked again, “What are you doing?”

It was obvious what she was doing so she didn’t say anything. She moved towards him and kissed him softly. His body was stiff and unmoving as she sent her tongue out to lick the corner of his mouth. She wanted to wipe away the memory of the strangers face so she reached her hand up, put it against the side of his face, and whispered, “Make love to me.”

She saw a look of disgust go across his face before he grabbed her hand, which was still damp, and pulled it away. As she watched in shock, he got up from the bed and looked down at her, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you Lucy.”

The pain of his disgust and rejection felt like a weight pressing down on her chest and she didn’t say anything as he turned and went into the bathroom, slamming the door
behind him. She put her hand to her chest, to the pain, and stared unseeing at the bathroom door, while blinking back tears of shame.

It was a few minutes before she felt the pressure in her chest ease and she pulled her nightgown down and sat up against the headboard to wait for Sam.

When he came out of the bathroom ten minutes later he was still angry.

“Sam-” He made a slashing motion in the air to silence her and she stopped.

“I don’t want to hear it Lucy. We’ll talk about it later when I get back from work.”

He didn’t say anything else and too hurt to speak she stared at the line of his angry back as he finished getting dressed. When he was done he didn’t say goodbye, he just picked up his briefcase and walked out. The sound of the front door slamming traveled up the stairs and she heard something in the living room fall and break.

She didn’t understand why he was so angry. It was true that she had never done anything like that in front of him, but they were only weeks away from becoming man and wife and she felt hurt and betrayed by his disgust.

As the word betrayed went through her mind she realized how absurd it was. She had betrayed Sam the day before in the worst way imaginable. She didn’t have any right to feel hurt or rejected.

She slipped back down between the sheets, pulled the blanket up over her head, and cried herself to sleep. When she woke the next time it was only to realize that she was touching herself again. Half-asleep she gave in to the images that were running through her mind, and when it was over, and the tremors had subsided, she rolled over, buried her face in Sam’s pillow, and cried again.

A few hours later she had just gotten out of the shower when the phone rang. It was the florist with bad news. The lilies that she had ordered for her bouquet weren’t going to be available and they needed her to come down and choose something else. She didn’t want to do it, didn’t want to think about the wedding, but she had to.

She told the florist that she would be there in an hour and hurried to get dressed.

The florist was across town and it seemed that every time she stepped out the front door
lately she got lost. So she pulled her damp hair up into an old knitted hat, forgot about putting on make-up and was out the door in ten minutes. She was at the end of the block and about to cross the road to take the stairs down to the underground when a car pulled up next to her.

She was so preoccupied with trying to remember which underground line
to take that she didn’t realize that the car was keeping pace with her.

When she stopped to wait for the cross light it pulled in front of her. Looking down at the cars dark tinted windows she saw herself frown at her reflection before the window rolled down
, and the stranger was in front of her.

She stared at him for a few seconds, unable to grasp what was happening, and she heard people behind her yelling at him. His car was blocking the crosswalk and the light had changed.

“Get in,” he said and opened the door.

Seeing him again, hearing his voice, was so unexpected that she stood staring down at him with her mouth hanging open until he reached out, grabbed her arm, and pulled her towards him.

His other hand came up and pushed her head down so that it didn’t hit the door and pulled her in to the seat beside him. The door wasn’t even shut before the car began to pull away and she turned to look at him and asked the first thing that popped into her head, “How did you know where I live?”

But he didn’t answer her. Instead he asked a question of his own, “Where are you going?”

She shook her head and reached for the door handle but he grabbed her hand and twined his fingers with hers. “Please don’t go. I just want to talk to you. Tell me where you’re going and we’ll take you there.”

The feel of his hand on hers brought up memories that she had spent the morning trying to erase
so she pulled away from him. “I asked you how you knew where I live.”

“I’ll tell you, but first will you please let me take you where you need to go?”

She shook her head again, went to reach for the door handle and he quickly said, “I followed you yesterday.”

“What?”

He nodded and reached down to loosen the navy tie that he was wearing as if it was choking him. “I just wanted to make sure you got home okay after…,”

He
shrugged and grinned and it was the same crooked grin that she remembered from the day before as he said, “You were upset and I just wanted to make sure that you got home okay.”

She looked down, away from his eyes, but her eyes fell on his hands, the very hands that she had dreamed of all morning, and she had to take a deep breath. He reached out to touch her but she shrank back from him and he pulled his hand back.

“Please let me give you a ride.”

She nodded her head, she would agree to anything as long as he didn’t try to touch her again, and he smiled. “Where are we going?”

She gave him the address, and watched as he pressed a button on his door to tell the driver where they were going. As he was doing that she looked around and saw that dark glass separated them from the front of the car and the driver. She couldn’t see anything through it, and if she couldn’t see the driver did that mean that he couldn’t see them either? The thought and where it lead, made her uncomfortable and she turned to look at the stranger again.