Judas (9 page)

Adessa was shaking, wringing her hands as she repeated the entire story to her old friend. She had no one else to talk to and she knew she could count on the Ms. Verino to give her the truth.

              “I can't help it. I just want to shake him!” she blurted out, clearly distraught with the whole situation. They were sitting in the small kitchen as they usually did and though the fresh baked pastries made her mouth water, she knew her knotted stomach wouldn't handle  the first bite.

“Did ya tell him how ya felt about the hussy?” Ms. Verino asked, with her usual lazy drawl.

“I tried. He wouldn't listen. He just kept assuring me he wouldn't leave her. I guess I just tried to move on. I can't stand the thought of being without him.” Adessa's heart sank as she heard her own words. She was pathetic.

             
“Ya love him, then?”

Adessa didn't even have to think of the reply. “Yes,” she said weakly. “More than I should.”

The old woman scoffed. “More than he deserves, that's for sure,” she mumbled, wiping her hands on an embroidered cloth napkin. “What about him? Does he love ya back?”

That was the million dollar question. “I don't know. I mean, he hasn't said he does but it's the way he makes me feel. No one has ever made me feel so beautiful and so wanted. He's always there and he's attentive. Everything Micheal wasn't.”

              “Not everything, if he's out carryin on with some trollop. But at any rate, it's soundin like ya already know how he feels. Even if he's too stubborn to admit it.”

Adessa nodded, staring blankly at her porcelain teacup. “He says she means nothing to him but if that were true, then why can’t he just leave? I guess I just dont understand.”

Ms. Verino cackled dryly. “No one understands men, child. Not even men.”

Adessa heaved a heavy breath. “What can I do? I can't bear the thought of losing him. I just want to love him. To make him understand that he doesn't need any other.”

              “Who says ya got to do anything? You just keep on bein you and focusin on the good in him. He'll either straighten up or he won't but if yer happy, aint no sense leavin.” She supposed that was true. He did make her happy and they did have a good life. Maybe it didn't matter about the other woman. It wasn't like he was going out every night and drinking and living a bachelor life. He was there with her every night and every morning. He took her places and showed her off. He cared for all of her needs. Except, one.

             
Adessa sighed, finally nodding her response.

“Besides, if ya need a place to come to clear yer head, ya know the door's open. He brings that thick head around this house, I'll meet it with my skillet,” the old woman offered with a hearty chuckle.

Adessa smiled weakly at the image. “And what of my needs, then?”

“What of em? If they ya needs, yer tweeter aint gonna all a sudden stop flutterin just cause he's afraid of it. Give the man time. He'll take ya in the proper manner soon enough. You just wait and see.”

              The two women talked for a while longer and by the time she left, she was feeling better. She resolved to do nothing, as she had been doing all along. She would continue to make her needs known, but she would try to not push. He would come to her when he was ready and she would wait patiently until then

.

CHAPTER NINE

              December came, announcing the new season with the temperament of an angry bear who had been roused from slumber. Long gone was the sound of song birds and crickets all that could be heard in the stillness of the morning was the wind as it howled with vehement fury. Snow was falling hard against the windowpane, blocking out the once spectacular view of the hills and trees beyond their home. In a sense, it made her feel snug and secure, but beyond that, she was hopeful and full of energy.
              Her mind had finally shut off and she was able to think clearly again after going over every possible scenario she could think up. The fact still remained. He was her husband and she loved him. She had a new determination to prove to him that she could be the only woman in his life and heart. All she had to do was get him to open up and allow her to show him. He was hers and she would fight for him. If only this stupid weather would clear! The clinic and the courthouse had been shut down due to the heavy snowfall and even the main roads were impassable. They were stuck, but she had a plan.
              He was sitting at the breakfast table, still reading his paper while he sipped his morning coffee when she slipped away. She returned a few minutes later with a folded quilt and a small trunk. She placed them both on the floor as he glanced up to watch her. She knew his eyes were on her as she closed the French doors that separated the kitchen from the main rooms and closed the thin curtains, blocking out the view of anything but the soft glow of the scented candles that adorned kitchen. His brow was arched now, but he said nothing and she pretended to not notice as she slipped out of her pajamas.
              “Doll? What are you doing?” he said, half curious and half amused.
She winked playfully at him, walking to where he sat. She reached down and picked up his half empty mug and took a long drink, keeping her glittering blue eyes on his. “What does it look like?” she challenged.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “It looks like my wife may have fallen and hit her head. What's all this about?” he asked, motioning to the items on the floor and then to the tightly closed curtains.
              “We're going to stay in this room until the weather breaks. And. We're going to be nude,” she declared before adding. “Strip. It's your turn.”
He blinked several times, wearing a look of complete shock. “What? What the fuck are you on?”
She laughed and extended a finger, tracing the hard line of his jaw as she cooed, “It's called imagination and if you don't have one, I suggest you get one.” If he only knew. Her little drill was more than just boredom. She was going to force him to think outside of his carefully constructed plans.
              She figured this was worth a shot and something told her, he would go along with it, even if nothing more than for his own curiosity. She didn't need him to hurt her or to be rough with her, but she did need him to try new things with her and she was determined to show him that she wasn't afraid of him. One way or the other, their sex would never be boring again. She cleared her throat impatiently as she waited for him to lose the silk pajama pants he wore. “I can get the kitchen shears if you'd like some help,” she smirked.
              “What is the point of this? We're supposed to just sit here nude in the kitchen for however many days this goes on?” he sputtered.
“You're stalling. And yes.”
He shook his head and began to untie the loops that secured his bottoms in place, allowing them to fall haplessly over his hips. She grasped the string and gave them a yank, causing them to fall to the floor at his feet. “That's better.”
              “So what are we supposed to do in our delightful little prison?” he asked sardonically.
She shrugged. “Use your imagination.”
He looked around, probably trying to find a place to hide. “And what if I need to, you know,” he questioned.
“Oh, you can have a two minute pass if you need to tinkle. But, no cheating.”
He scoffed, “Tinkle? I'm a man. Men don't tinkle. We take leaks, we piss but we do not tinkle.”
 

She couldn't believe how easy it was to get him to agree to this ridiculous scheme. She was feeling confident and couldn't wait to spend the day with him in this room. He refilled his coffee and leaned his large frame against the counter as he considered her. “You going to show me what's in the treasure chest over there?” he said, pointing.
“Of course!” she said, already coming to kneel beside it. She reached in and pulled out three board games, ink pens, and some paper for keeping scores.
“Scrabble? Wait, now I can get with some scrabble. And I'll kick your ass at it,” he grinned.
              And Scrabble it was. They played until afternoon, rearranging words and letters, each trying to outdo the other, even throwing in dirty words for good measure now and again. He seemed to have finally come to terms with being stuck in the kitchen with her and they had forgotten all about the world outside.

They had a lunch break, sharing fresh cut vegetables from a platter and hunks of meat and cheese. By the time evening rol
led around, neither of them was ready for the day to end. He helped her make a meatloaf for dinner and even playfully swatted her bottom as she passed by on her way to set the table. Her plan was working perfectly.

She pulled the worn out old apron from the drawer and gracefully slid it over her head. The long strings wrapped around her waist, meeting in the back as she tied them into a small bow. Humming to herself, she began to rummage through the cabinets, pulling out all the essential ingredients to bake his favorite cake. After preheating the oven, she went to collect the utensils she would use, shoving them into the deep pockets of the covering. He sat perched comfortably on the island, watching her as she worked.

              She carefully combined each ingredient, intentionally skipping the two eggs, leaving them to sit in a small dish as she whisked and folded the mixture. She raised the metal instrument, allowing the batter to drizzle back into the bowl, removing the excess as she gave him a heated grin. “Taste?” she offered playfully, bringing the utensil to his lips. He raised a brow and began to slide his tongue along the chocolate covered tool, keeping his eyes locked firmly onto hers as he swirled his tongue through the thin metal wires. She felt the heat rush between her thighs as she watched him, wide eyed. She began to wonder who was trying to seduce whom.

             
She pulled the whisk away from his tongue, and brought it to her own, repeating his motions on the other side, letting the sugary mix pool against her tongue. When she turned and walked back to the counter, she could feel his eyes on her and she knew she had his full attention. With a last glance over her shoulder, she turned and hopped up onto the cabinet. She pulled her legs up, allowing her feet to catch the edge of the granite and seductively spread her legs wide. She dipped the whisk back into the mix, coating it with the thickening chocolate.

             
Her breath caught as she felt the first of the cool drips land against her sex, as her eyes dared him to come to her. When he didn't immediately move, she drew back the whisk and landed a smack against her sensitive button. He swallowed roughly, rasping out, “Fuck.”

“Yeah?” she asked, seductively as she raked the metal over her folds, catching the small bud between the wires and dragging it along. A soft moan escaped her lips as the erotic motions fueled the longing desire.

              She saw the exact second his eyes went dark. Almost instantly, he was standing in front of her. Her pulse was racing as he grabbed her hips, pinning her in place as he kissed her. He rained tiny kisses over her face and throat, and moving lower. She cupped her small breast in one hand and smacked it firmly with the coated instrument before giving it a fling. She brought the pebbled nipple to his mouth in offering. He sucked the tight peak into his mouth, drinking heavily as his strangled groan vibrated against her flesh. Her legs began tremble to as raw need consumed her. “Judas, please,” she begged.

             
Her breast fell from his lips as a deft hand moved to replace the sensation, tugging and releasing in a slow rhythm. He massaged her breast, leaving his free hand to hold her thigh, steadying her as he lowered himself to one knee. He kissed a slow, calculated trail up her inner thigh, ending just before the crease of her leg. Unable to control herself another second, she brought her hands to his hair, gripping firmly as she pushed his face into her chocolate coated folds. He moaned deep and guttural her as she immediately began to rock her hips, matching the swift motion of his tongue as he cleaned her. She was aching and near madness now, her nails biting against his scalp in a desperate demand.

             
He finally stood, pressing his forehead to hers as he took her hands, guiding them to his length expectantly. She instinctively knew what he wanted. She flattened her palm, placing it against his hip while the fingers of her free hand wrapped around his shaft, guiding him to her opening. She left two strokes against his length before moving her hand to his other hip and pulling him inside of her. She heard his breath stop as he held it, taking control from her as he pushed deeper into her slick, hot depths. They both began to rock in unison, as her walls encased him, milking and massaging him as she hardened her grip, urgently dragging him into her again and again.

             
Somewhere in time, his breaths returned, coming in ragged, heated pants against her cheek. He slowed the pace, working in a circular motion, meant only for her pleasure. She shattered against the blissful assault, lowering her head to his shoulder as she bit into the dew covered flesh, crying out her release as her body shuddered in delight.

He wrapped his arms around her, cradling her to him as he pushed deep inside for the last time before the waves of his own release began to batter him. When it was over, he lifted her from the heated granite and lowered her to his lap on the floor. They sat there recovering their senses for several long minu
tes before either of them moved an inch.

             
She took the cake out of the oven and turned on some soft music. “Care to dance?”

“I'd love to,” he smiled, taking her hand. They danced alone in their kitchen for several slow songs, not breaking the intimate promenade as they talked. “Thank you for doing this with me,” she whispered against his ear as they swayed in perfect sync. “I was afraid you would think I was insane for suggesting it.”

“I do think you're insane but I wouldn't have missed this for anything,” he told her, and he meant it. They had needed this time and he was happy to humor her.

             
There was something magical in her spontaneity and he was fairly certain he'd have sawed off his arm if she had asked him to do so in her special dulcet lilt. He found it strange that even when she was angry, he didn't have it in him to refuse her a simple request. When the pressure was off of him, he could relax and enjoy their time and it had been weeks since their last fight. He knew the subject would eventually rear its ugly head again but for now, things were good. Every game of Scrabble he had let her win had made her smile and made it all worth it to him. He loved her. Liked. No, enjoyed. He groaned. Whatever.

             
The intimacy they had shared today was a turning point for him. He felt her breasts press against his ribs as they swayed, ignoring the familiar ache that stirred against her navel. He knew he would take her again before the day was over. It had finally hit him that he didn't have to be rough with her for their lovemaking to be exciting. He couldn't help but wonder if this whole scheme had been a set-up, but at this point, he really didn't care if it was. If she staged this to teach him, then she had executed her plan brilliantly.

             
When the cake was finished cooling, she had to break the dance, but he was just as happy watching her as she dipped the rubber spatula into the tub of frosting and began to swirl it onto the dessert. She hummed softly as she worked, coating the entire cake, leaving nothing of the sugary mixture behind. He swiped his finger across the cake to taste and she swatted his hand. “Stop that! It's not ready yet!” she protested. Instead of licking the frosting from his finger, he smirked playfully and then dabbed her nose in response to the girly swat. “Oh, no you didn't!” she shrieked, reaching into the bowl to grab a handful of the goo. She flung it right at him, splattering it from his face to his chest and they both roared with laughter.

             
He wasn't about to let her get away with it. He reached out and grabbed a fistful of her beautifully decorated cake and attempted to shove it in her mouth, crumbling it all over her face. She answered him in kind, and within minutes both of them and the entire kitchen were covered in both cake and the frosting. They were still laughing when he finally waved the white flag. “Truce!” he yelped, dodging another glob.

“Chicken!” she giggled.

He shrugged, “Maybe so but you started it.” He stuck out his tongue for good measure.

             
They both sobered, looking around at the mess they had made. “So, who's cleaning this up?” she asked sweetly.