Something Fierce (15 page)

“Yep.”

“So you’re like…a Pussy Whisperer.”

“That’s right.”

“Do women actually buy this?”

“No idea. I’ve never been cornered into explaining it before. Like good writing, it must be
shown,
not told.”

“You are retarded.”

“Hey, you’re the one passing up one of the best advantages of having an older, more experienced lover.”

“I’m enjoying plenty of perks, thank you very much.”

“Five minutes. Give me five minutes and if you aren’t enjoying it, I’ll stop.”

“I know I don’t like it.”

“Three minutes.”

She looked at him. “Why don’t you just fuck me?”

“I’d like to give you this. You can relax because you know you can trust me. And you don’t have to put on a show for me. You can simply enjoy.”

“If I don’t like it, you stop and we drop it.”

“Deal.”

Grinning and shaking her head, she opened her legs. “Knock yourself out.”

“I’m not performing a magic trick here. This is a joint venture. I need a little cooperation.”

“Such as?”

“Lay back,” he said and she did. “Close your eyes. Good. Now just relax.” He moved his hands lightly over her as he kissed her mouth: a slow, deep kiss. He whispered in her ear, “Let go; let everything go. Just feel.” He started as before, slowly, softly. Her breathing started to increase. “If you like something,” he said, “tell me. If you don’t, tell me.”

Her body was incredibly responsive. How could she say she didn’t like this? Why would she say that? Already, they were further than they’d ever been in this realm. Because she could reach orgasm fairly easily through regular sex, this was going to blow her mind.

He didn’t like to go straight for “the little man in the boat,” but she was plenty into it already and he wanted to get her to that next level before she thought about stopping him again. She inhaled deeply and he felt a spasm shudder through her body. She ran her fingers through his hair, grabbing two fistfuls and moaning, “Holy fuck.”

Her body started to tense. He could almost feel it building inside of her. Her legs were trembling. Her breathing had turned into a sort of panting. She raised her hips and began to make a whimpering sound that seemed to express both pleasure and pain. She dug her nails into his back and cried out, pushing him away from her. “Stop! Stop! No more. No more.” He joined her on the couch and took her in his arms. She went limp, crying, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t like it.”

“Shhh,” he said. He could feel her heart going like mad. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”

“Just hold me.” She squeezed him tightly. “Please. Just hold me.”

He did. He didn’t want to speak, but he had to because he suddenly couldn’t read her at all and it was frightening. “It didn’t hurt, did it?”

“No.”

“Did it feel good?”

She buried her head in his shoulder and nodded vigorously that it did. “Too good. Too much.”

He knew then. Intuitively, he knew that someone had hurt her. Long before that troubled adolescence, maybe so long that she didn’t even remember, but someone had hurt her. Probably someone she knew and trusted. It wasn’t the right time to ask, of course. She was too scared, too vulnerable. But it was something they would have to talk about eventually. “I’m sorry I pushed you, baby,” he said. “I didn’t mean to push.”

“Promise that you will never leave me,” she cried into his shoulder, “promise that you will never ever leave me and that you will always love me.”

“Always” and “never” were the words of a fool. But he was willing to be a fool for her and he would have said anything she needed to hear at that moment. “I promise,” he said, kissing her on the side of her head. “I promise.”

Still entwined, he leaned back on the couch until he was lying down and she was on top of him. He reached up and turned off the living room light so there was just the glow of the fire inside. She nestled her head on his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair. The outside lights that Dr. Jarrell had artfully made a part of the landscaping were on and through the wall of windows, Seth saw that a fog had settled around the black, wet trees giving the atmosphere surrounding the house a soft, dream-like quality.

He felt Kerri’s breathing change as it did when she was going to sleep. Maybe his internal compass was working after all and they had met for a reason. Despite being at very different points and places in their lives, they were certainly facing a similar crossroads. Perhaps each was the high-octane burst that the other needed: she to begin her journey; he to continue his.

K
erri had the sensation
of sleepwalking
as she moved through the bright, unfamiliar lobby and out the finger-smudged, glass doors of the apartment building, eager to get away before “Greg” (definitely not his real name) stirred or she herself was fully awake. She thought she must look like a zombie from an old movie shuffling along, only faster because she was trying to stay ahead of the voice striding along just behind her speaking in a tone that wasn’t exactly her mother’s but like it, only stronger, more authoritative because it knew all of her horrible secrets, all the nasty things she did. The voice reminded her that she hadn’t changed. She’d never change. She was a whore. A liar. A crazy bitch who had days of normalcy, sometimes months of normalcy, but was ultimately a nut job. High-functioning, no doubt, but a nut job all the same. Mental snapshots and snippets of conversation from last night played through her mind backing up the accusations. Like a drunk waking up with a hangover, she remembered bits and pieces of how she had disgraced herself. The endless cycle was starting again. The darkness was coming, the confusion, the messes and it was her own fault. She had let her guard down, lost control by buying into Seth Hardy’s Pollyanna view of life when she knew better.

She walked faster through the cold morning as if she could outrun the taunting voice and pathetic images. She tried to remember where she’d parked the night before. She had to get to her car. Her music was there. It would drown out the chatter, take her home, let her hit the reset button and start over. But when she spotted her silver Toyota in the distance, her heart went to her throat and she stopped walking.

Seth was pacing back and forth in front of her car.

“Oh, God, no,” she said, the words coming out in a white cloud of steam, “please, please, no.” She almost burst into tears, but that would be an admission of guilt a different internal voice was saying, not the criticizing, mean voice, but the cool, calm one of the survivor that got her out of messes and kept order, kept control. She pulled her shoulders back and walked purposefully toward him. That survivor’s mind didn’t fuck around. It was already concocting a believable explanation and Kerri was inwardly rehearsing it as she walked toward him with her head held high:
I know what it looks like, honey, but just hear me out. I swear it is not what you think. Greg is a dorky old friend from high school. Everyone left him stranded last night and he was way too drunk to drive. I took him home. He needed help even getting inside. We were barely in the door before he was puking his guts out. I couldn’t leave him like that. I fell asleep on the couch. When I woke up a few minutes ago, he was passed out on top of his bed.

But as she got closer, she saw that it wasn’t Seth after all. It was Kyle. Instantly, the survivor voice switched from defense to offense, from excusing her actions to attacking his. “You fucking creep!” she heard herself shout as she approached him. “I told you I was calling the police if I caught you pulling this shit again and I meant it!”

She went for her phone and he went to his knees, putting his hands together as if in prayer. “Please don’t, Kerri. Please. I’m sorry.” He reeked of alcohol. He looked tired and troubled and his face and hands were red from the cold. His left eye twitched once, twice, three times. “You wouldn’t answer my calls, or texts, or emails. What was I supposed to do?”

“How long have you been following me?”

“Just last night,” he said, raising a hand in the air. “I swear.”

“You followed me to the Red Wolf?”

Kyle nodded. Then he looked like he might cry. “That guy you left with last night is scum. He’s there all the time. He leaves with a different girl practically every night. You’re better than that, Kerri.”

“What I do is none of your business. Get off of the ground. You look like you’re proposing again.”

“Is that why you’ve been ignoring me for the past two months?” He struggled to his feet. He’d clearly been drinking all night. “Because I scared you with the ring?”

She could still hear the sound of the box snapping shut. Such a beautiful ring. Of course it had to come from an awkward creeper that had never been with another girl, drank too much, had facial tics, and whose only friend was a dog named Jinx. “That wasn’t it,” she said.

“Then what?”

She hadn’t seen him since that weekend in New York City when Seth was at his aunt’s funeral in Pennsylvania. Kerri had believed that Seth had been lying at the time and she’d called Old Faithful to fill the emptiness. She’d chosen New York because of the way Seth had described it to her during a conversation on their first and what she was certain then had been their last night together. Ignoring the phone call and text message from him hadn’t been difficult while Kyle was treating her like a princess in the big city, buying her everything she picked up and admired, but when they returned and she nearly collided with Seth in front of the campus bookstore, Kyle…and the proposal he promised would forever stay open to her, began to disappear. When Seth had contacted her the third time—the day he’d called her at school and she’d gone to his office—she’d gotten lost in him and had forgotten about Kyle altogether.

Kyle blocked her entrance to the car and she felt a twinge of fear. This was not a stable man before her. A few weeks ago he’d left her a message saying that he couldn’t live without her and was going to kill himself. “Why have you been ignoring me all these weeks?”

“Because I’m a bitch,” she said.

“No, you’re not.” Then his face went tight and indignant. “Is there someone else?” His upper lip began twitching like he was doing a bad imitation of an Elvis impersonator. This tic only kicked in when he was especially distraught. The eye thing happened all of the time. “Is there?”

So he didn’t know about Seth. This was good. She nodded toward the apartment building she’d just come out of. “What does it look like?”

“Why do you do that when you have someone who loves you so much? Why?”

Now there was a question. She had no idea. “I freak out sometimes. I get scared. You know that.”

“Then tell me that. Grant me the courtesy of a returned phone call. Tell me to get lost if that’s what you need, but please talk to me.”

“Get lost,” she said and nudged him away from the car door.

“You are so
cold!
” he shouted as an old beater of a car pulled into the parking lot two slots over from Kerri’s. A twenty-something man in a ragged fatigue jacket and worn jeans got out. A black, winged gargoyle with red eyes was tattooed on the side of his shaved head. The guy stared at them unblinkingly.

“Your heart is as cold as a stone!” Kyle screamed again, oblivious to the stranger, and kicked her front tire so hard that he nearly fell over.

“There a problem here?” the man asked, glaring at Kyle, shoulders back, jacket hanging open to reveal a black tee-shirt that advertised a local tattoo parlor: The Ink Spot.

“Is there a problem here, Kyle?” she asked.

He raised his hands and meekly stepped back. “No problem here,” he mumbled, looking at the ground. “No problem. Same old shit. Same old sucky shit.”

She got into the car, closed the door and lowered the window. “It’s okay,” she said to the man, giving him her best rescued damsel smile, noting that both of his hands were tattooed as well. She wondered if he worked at The Ink Spot. “Thank you.”

The man nodded and looked right into her eyes. He sort of smirked. It made her stomach tickle. Then he turned and strutted toward the apartment building. She’d always wanted a tattoo and might have to stop into The Ink Spot one of these days to see what they had. She started the engine and looked up at Kyle. “‘Cold as a stone,’” she said. “Real nice, Kyle. And you wonder why I didn’t want to marry you.”

He was completely deflated, all glum and slum. “I didn’t mean it,” he sighed, “I’m just…I miss you. I miss the fun we used to have.”

Looking up at him, she could see he was still fully devoted to her and she realized that burning this bridge entirely would be rather stupid. Seth Hardy may be full of passion, but he’d never be as devoted to her as Kyle…who had an expensive diamond ring he was holding for her, who was heir to wealthy parents, had eyes for her alone and loved giving her gifts. If things didn’t work out with Seth, she could do a whole lot worse than Kyle. And with him, she’d be able to maintain complete control. As long as she let him think he was her man, she could do whatever she damn well pleased. “You just miss the sex.”

“No. I miss everything. I’m so lonely without you.”

“I’m teasing Kyle.”

He tried to smile. “Who wouldn’t miss that?” His eyes went teary. “Please don’t hate me. I couldn’t handle that. I couldn’t.”

He was looking at her like Jinx, his dog, did when she wanted petting. Overflowing with unconditional love, eager for the slightest acknowledgement, the smallest gesture of kindness, he was like a good dog, she thought not unkindly, a damned good dog. She’d been wrong to fear Kyle for even a moment. He wouldn’t turn on her anymore than Jinx would on him. Both were faithful and endlessly forgiving to the one they loved.

“I’ll wait for you as long as I have to,” Kyle said, his eyes meeting hers now, the left one twitching, “but if you don’t love me anymore, if there is no chance for me, then tell me that and let me go.”

The thought of him looking at another woman this way made her feel sick and sorry. She
was
selfish. She didn’t want him, not all the time for sure, but she didn’t want to be without him either. She realized that she’d missed him this last while, missed the way he doted on her, missed his attention, the way he demanded nothing from her in return and valued her above all else. And really, Kyle was always going to be Kyle. He could be that for her or someone else.