Message From Viola Mari (6 page)

Our waitress cleared our plates. “Can I interest you in some dessert?”

Oh can you ever
, I wanted to say.
Can I have him naked with whipping cream?

Justin requested a dessert menu. He didn’t appear anywhere on the list. I imagined him unzipping my dress and planting a line of skin tingling kisses down the bare skin on my back.

“So what would you like?” His roaming dancing gold-green eyes seemed to be deciding which part of me he’d like to taste first.

“Let’s get out of here.” I pushed my chair back.
What happened to grinding my teeth together to keep words from slipping out?

His hooded, heavy lidded eyes roamed over my body. “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.” His voice sounded husky.

He asked the waitress to bring us the check. “We’re in a bit of a rush.” At that moment, I stopped breathing. As we stepped outside, he grasped my arm roughly and led me down the street. He opened the car door for me and reluctantly released me.

“Would you like to come to my place?” His eyes glowed animal-yellow in the dim light.

“Yes,” I whispered.

His tires screeched on the pavement as he pulled onto Girard Street. My head swam from the champagne. He maneuvered the car down various streets before climbing a steep hill and turning into a long driveway.

“Here we are.” We stepped side by side into his foyer. He leaned into me and my heels clicked on the travertine as I stepped backward, feeling I might lose my balance. One of my high heeled shoes slipped off and then he backed me into a wall and pressed himself up against me. I felt the contours of his chest against my firm body, his muscular thighs flexing against mine.

“Oh God, I’m so attracted to you,” he moaned.

I didn’t know what to say. I’d heard this line so many times before, but it was exactly what ran through my scrambled brain.
How can I hold it against him?
I wanted to pull his body right through me, to absorb the contours of his body, his lips, and his penetrating masculinity. So none of my relationships ever panned out. But I still had needs. Aching, burning needs that I sensed this man could at least temporarily satiate.

His gentle, warm, moist lips met mine. Our lips and tongues mingled as his arms pulled me roughly into his body. His erection pressed up against my thigh. He maneuvered one shoulder strap of my dress down and massaged my breasts. I cried out with ecstasy as he brushed his lips over my neck and breasts and flicked his tongue against my nipple.

He hiked my short dress up over my hips and massaged my thighs and buttocks. The sensual touch of his fingertips on my flesh ignited my desire and my panties moistened, a wanting ache throbbing between my thighs.

The vibrations in my trembling hands could have registered on the Richter scale as I fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. I made it three down until one came off in my hand. “Oops.”

His rugged laugh eased my embarrassment, his hands met mine, and our joined hands released the remaining buttons. Blond curls danced across his muscular chest. My silk panties slid to the floor and Justin’s nimble hands worked their way between my thighs. As he slid one and then two fingers into my wet opening, my head tipped back and I let unbridled desire pulse through me. A noise made me jerk my head up suddenly. “What was that?”

“I thought I heard something too.” My bent, outturned leg was still in his grasp when the front door bolt clicked in.

He slid his fingers from my vagina, jerked down my dress and stepped away. I pulled my shoulder strap back up. “Oh, shit, how did she get a key? Step out of sight until I get rid of her.”

“Her? I see you’re dependable all right.” I grabbed my high heels and slipped one on, then balanced on that leg and wobbled as I slid on the other shoe.

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“It never is.” I stood with my hands on my hips as the door whined open.

“Hurry – get out of sight. This could be awkward.”

“Not for me. As a matter of fact, I think I’ll pull up a chair and enjoy the show.” I dragged a chair across the tile, plopped down and crossed my legs just as the tall large-breasted blond woman stepped through the door.

“And who exactly are you?” I tipped my head onto one elbow and allowed my dress to ride high up my thigh.

“Hmph.” The woman turned up her nose at me and walked so close to Justin, I thought she might pummel him with her breasts.

“Oh, you don’t speak English. Didn’t think so.” I feigned a yawn.

Justin redirected his glare from me to her. “What the hell are you doing here, Chloe?”

“I just came by to check on you.” Her voice sounded syrupy sweet. “Who is she, anyway?” She frowned and scanned me up and down.

“She’s uh, um…”

“What he means to say is I’m one of his students. You know how it goes. First he says he wants to help you with your manuscript, then the next thing you know, he’s trying to get into your pants.”

“What the—” said Justin.

“Stop talking and leave,” said the blond woman, pointing toward me with one of her razor-sharp fingernails. “Now.”

“Leave now and miss all the fun?” I dropped my gaze to Justin’s crotch. “God, look at that hard on.”

“It’s not what you think.” Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead and his body language screamed
let me out of here
.

“No, it’s not what you think at all.”
It looks like the Empire State Building’s about to burst from his pants yet he’s going to tell you that’s not his dick.

“Where did you get a key? You said you gave them back.”

“So, I lied.” She twirled the keys around her fingers. And anyway, maybe it was a good thing I stopped by. Even if we’re over, a little quickie wouldn’t hurt anyone. Or we could try a threesome.” She pressed her too-big-to-be-real-breasts into him.

I was going to projectile vomit just like Jennifer if I heard another word of this nauseating conversation. He doesn’t want to play games, he says. Yeah, right.
What else would Barbie be good for?

“He’s all yours.” I nudged her out of the way and reached for the door. “Maybe since I just used and abused him, this time he’ll last more than five minutes.”
God, that sounded good.
Then I stepped through the door, slamming it shut behind me.

Justin flung open the door. “Marissa, wait.” I turned to glare at him. His eyes seemed to glow in the dark. Under the moonlight, his skin looked metallic.
If we stand out here long enough, he’ll probably turn into a werewolf
.
It wouldn’t shock me in the least. I have such excellent taste in men.

I looked at him once last time and then swung my head around and walked briskly down the streets, my high heels clicking down the sidewalk. I turned to see if he was coming after me, but he’d shut the door.
That figures.
A trickle of breathy female laughter projected through an open window. He’s probably already forgotten about me, I thought, as I slid into a miserable state of self-pity.

I walked along the beach toward Scripps. Orange flames from a bonfire illuminated faces of couples swaying and dancing to music that blared from a metallic boom box. I could be laughing too, I thought. Instead, I stumbled through the sand alone, my ankles and toes screaming for me to remove my high heels.
These shoes suck.
I’d already turned my ankle over and over again, walking so high off the ground on the uneven, dimly lit surfaces. I tugged the shoes off and flung them one by one into the ocean.
Now that felt good.

My cell phone rang repeatedly. I stared at it before powering it down. I walked gingerly over the uneven ground up the hill to the building, punched in my security code, and strode down the hall to my office.

The meteorite conference in Prague was only a week away. Deflated ego or not, I had every intention of stunning my audience, every intention of showing up for class tomorrow, every intention of acting as if I didn’t care that Justin had lied, that he’d likely spent the night with Chloe instead of giving me multiple orgasms. The interruption had been a lucky break. After all, if we’d actually had sex, it would have stung so much more when I learned that nothing about him had been real. He was just an incredibly gorgeous jerk who had nearly swindled me into believing he was Mr. Nice Guy. Why do I care? I wondered.
I only wanted him for sex anyway, didn’t I?

Before Chloe showed up, I had assumed his arrogance wasn’t true arrogance, but only appeared that way to someone who didn’t know him well. I’d thought it was more like the confidence I had, knowing I had a special gift. He was a master of the written word. I was the only scientist who knew the world’s clock was ticking. But I’d been wrong.
He really is an arrogant jerk with a women-are-disposable attitude.
While I, on the other hand, am an overly confident scientist on the brink of making a complete idiot of myself.
I sighed.
It’s time to take an intermission from the soap opera.
I slid on my glasses, feeling safe again. Back in my intellectual frame-of-reference, emotional turbulence couldn’t harm me.

I spread out images of the NRG meteorite impacts across a light table. For weeks, I’d been baffled by the mysterious structures. When a meteorite strikes the ground, it pulverizes it, tossing shards in a discarded ring around the crater’s perimeter. But all these sites lacked this usual signature.

I’d sent several instruments to the ocean floor to study the craters, and I’d managed to collect some samples. One time when I sent submersibles down, the crater profiles had disappeared from the radar by the time they landed. It was as if they were craters one minute and then flattened out into the normal topography of the ocean bottom the next. My studies had revealed the unbelievable.
But what kind of scientist stands behind a podium and tells people there are
now-you-see-them-now-you-don’t
meteorite craters on the bottom of the ocean?
Or says the end of the world is just months away?
No scientist other than me. In my realm, there had been nothing I couldn’t handle, until now.

I awoke the next morning, face down on the light table. I glanced at my watch. It was already eight thirty AM. I barely had time to call a cab and make it to class, and looking in the mirror was completely out of the question. During the ride to campus, I raked my untidy hair with my fingers.

I stumbled into the classroom feeling shaky and disoriented. “Where have you been?” asked Jennifer. Her usually stone-smooth brow creased with concern. “You look like you’ve been out all night or something.”

“Or something,” I said, dully. Justin hadn’t arrived yet.
Maybe he’s about to cum in that bimbo’s mouth and forgot about class.
My head throbbed. After a long night of champagne and bad company, I craved coffee more than anything.

“You look like hell today.” Steve dropped his books on his desk, making me jump.

Men really have a way with words. As for me, I can be diplomatic—if I feel like it.
“Thank you, Steve. You don’t look so great yourself if you don’t mind me saying so.”

Justin walked into the room, his hair looking more disheveled than ever.
Just got out of bed did you? Bastard! He probably messed up his hair even more just to irritate me.

We critiqued Mark’s work first. Justin disagreed with every comment I made, not only on his manuscript, but the ones that followed. I clenched my fists beneath my desk and smacked my knees together. Once the critiques ended, Justin read aloud one of his favorite published essays. It had won many awards, or so he said. His point, apparently, was that we should aim higher than average when writing genre fiction. We could create true literary work. I grumbled
prick
under my breath.

“Marissa, do you have something you’d like to say?” His usually warm eyes pierced through me like pale green Antarctic ice.

“As a matter of fact, I do. How you could think this stupid essay about a guy who spends his entire life buying and sniffing vanilla is literary? The author clearly smoked mind altering substances when he wrote this. Any man who wears cologne laced with vanilla deserves to be dumped. It’s no wonder the only relationship he ever had lasted ten days. If he travelled to the tropics, the female mosquitoes would have been all over him, though.”

Laughter erupted around the room. Justin peered over the rim of his reading classes, his eyebrows tipped angrily inward. “It seems to me you’re being rather close-minded, making a judgment without all of the information.”

Why do I get the feeling he’s not talking about the story?

“Well, you have to admit this essay was really lame, even if it was well written,” grunted Mark. Despite the fact that it was nine AM, a five o’clock shadow clouded his face and the dark circles under his eyes screamed
hang over
.

At least someone’s on my side—maybe I should ask for his number after class.
“Yeah, see.” I turned to Justin and narrowed my eyes. “And I have all the information I need, thank you very much. As a matter of fact, with this author, it’s a clear case of too much information. By the end of the essay, I feel like if I hear another word about his vanilla obsession or his pathetic love life, I’m going to have to grab a handful of vanilla beans and stone him to death with them. But a man can never get over a blond with big jugs, right?”

“His ex-girlfriend’s appearance wasn’t even described in the essay,” said Steve. “Where did you come up with that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. This author just seems like the kind of guy who would try to seduce one woman while another still has keys to his house.”
Just when I thought I had it under control, my mouth became a runaway train.

“What? Did you give her a different essay?” asked Amanda. “I thought the protagonist seemed like a nerd, not a serial womanizer.”

“Oh, he’s a nerd all right.” I felt Jennifer’s gaze burning into my back.

Justin shifted in his chair and peered at his watch. “Well, it seems we’ve run out of time and I’ve got a lunch date to rush off to. I’ll see you all next week.” He tossed a
serves you right
smirk my way. Gritting my teeth, I jumped up from my chair, walked briskly toward the door and threw my water bottle at his head as I passed.