The Story of Lansing Lotte (15 page)

I turned on the large shower head and water streamed forth like a rainfall. I let the warmth envelop me, sighing with relief as the hot water massaged my aching muscles. I was thinking again of 3A in her tiny negligée, and tried to rule out the possibility that she had someone in her home or had left Fleur alone to visit another neighbor. She said she was going for an egg and I had to believe her, but appearances were deceiving. I was in a growing state of arousal over 3A’s sexy look on her knees in the trapped elevator, when a hand slipped over my hip.

“Layne?” my voice cracked.

Soft lips kissed my back and upper shoulders before trailing down one arm. She released her grip on my side to reach around me and grab the soap.

“Layne? What are you doing?”

She didn’t respond as she lathered her hands and began to wash up my body. Her delicate hands smoothed over my abs and up my chest. Tiny nails scratched over my chest and rubbed back down to my waist. She continued her work over my arms giving extra attention to my biceps. Dragging her hands down each arm, she washed my hands, caressing up and down each finger.

I remained speechless. She had shocked me to the point of no words. I was pampered further as she turned my body to face the wall and rubbed circles of soap from my tight shoulders down to my lower back. She hesitated at my waist before slipping to my ass. My head had been hung in relaxation, but the touch of my ass made me look up. I was trying to glance at her over my shoulder, when her fingers slipped around my hips, her body plastered to my back and she gripped my excited shaft hard. Her soapy hands smoothed up and down me in my heightened arousal and I moaned. 

My hands came up to balance me against the wall, as Layne stroked me in a steady rhythm. My brain shut down and my body took over. I let her control me as my hips moved gently with the steady beat she played up my excitement. I felt the sweet tension. If she kept up the pace, I was going to explode.

“Layne…I…” I sucked in a breath as she gripped me harder, quickening her rhythm. It had been a long time since I’d had a hand-job, but my body was giving into the sensation. I released on an exaggerated tug of my dick as her other hand squeezed my balls.

“Layne…” I breathed out, as I spilled over her fingers and she continued to massage me until I couldn’t take it any longer.

I placed my hand over hers, holding her still for a moment before I spun quickly and maneuvered her back against the shower tile. The water was cooling, but I needed to return the favor. Layne’s eyes were wide; her innocent brown had a mixture of fear and excitement.

“I won’t hurt you,” I whispered, as my mouth found her neck and she tilted her head for me to take bigger sucks of her skin.

She groaned in response, swallowing hard as my hand slid down between the crevice of her lush breasts, to the flat of her stomach, and over her mound before finding the sweet spot at the apex of her legs. I tickled my fingers over her folds and her hips bucked forward. I pulled back to look into her eyes again and she was biting her lower lip.

“You want me to touch you, don’t you, Layne?”

She didn’t respond again, but she didn’t have to. I knew by the whimpering sound in the back of her throat, she needed me to touch her. I slid a finger across her dampness again and her head tipped back against the tile. I slipped a finger into her, and her hands went flat against the wall. She had nothing to hold onto as I began my own torturous rhythm inside her core.  She was wet; slick in a way that told me she would let me take everything from her, if I wanted it. I didn’t want it, however. I had that awful thought in my head. I didn’t want to take Layne, and I shouldn’t have let her touch me. I shouldn’t have been touching her.

I worked a beat like she played me. Almost instantly, her head lulled forward to my chest and she groaned deeply as her release washed my fingers anew. I kissed her shoulder, without really tasting her, as she continued in silent pleasure for several minutes before I felt the clenching on my fingers calm. Layne’s head fell back slowly. Her face showed satisfaction and her eyes were dilated with released desire.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Her eyes found mine. 

“For what?” I sighed.

“For…” She seemed hesitant.

“For giving me this,” she replied breathlessly. The smile on Layne’s face could have lit all of New York City. I felt sick at the thought that I wasn’t really giving Layne anything.

The following day I returned to
Dolores Guard
to assess the damage with Galehaut. As we stood in the lobby waiting for an inspector, my phone rang. I recognized that ringtone and the last time I heard it I was met with devastating news.

“Guinie?” I sighed into the phone.

“Lansing? Tell me you’re okay? Please.” Her voice was full of frantic fear and I blinked up at Galehaut in surprise. She actually sounded truly concerned.

“I’m fine.”

“Where have you been?” she breathed, her worry still present in her tone.

“I went to Galehaut’s.”

“Is he okay?”

“We’re both fine. We’re at
Dolores Guard
now, waiting for an inspector.”

“And you’re okay? He’s okay?”

“We’re both fine. Guinie, what is this all about?” I asked suspiciously. It just wasn’t like her to call me or be so overly worried.

“I just…it looked so scary on television, and you didn’t return my calls.” I pulled the phone back to look at the message app to find ten voice mails.

I had missed part of what she said as she continued to speak, while I had glanced at my phone. I returned it to my ear to hear her say, “I just can’t lose you, too.”

Her voice was tender, her tone softer as she breathed out on those words in a whisper. My heart skipped a beat and I looked up again to find Galehaut staring at me. I didn’t know how to respond to the sudden concern from Guinie.

“Lover girl?” Galehaut mouthed to me.

I shook my head to ignore him, hoping he would be thrown off, but he started making a gesture with his hips and his hands, closing his eyes in mock ecstasy, and making a face like he was moaning.  I couldn’t help it, I laughed.

“What’s so funny?” she said, her voice squeaking through the phone.

“Nothing. I gotta go. The investigator is here.”

I heard her sigh. I instantly felt bad that I hadn’t responded in a more serious manner to her truthful admission.  My head was slow to catch up that Guinie might have just admitted something from her heart.

We followed the investigator up the three flights of stairs. The elevator was broken and condemned as not meeting city code. We entered the third floor and turned right to inspect how far the damage had spread on that floor. It appeared the fire had gone up and down rather than horizontal and not all the apartments were ruined. As we exited 3C where the fire damage was beginning to be evident, we saw 3A exiting her apartment.

“Ma’am, you can’t be up here,” the investigator spoke. She looked up at us and turned on her heels to face the open doorway of what was once her home. She didn’t respond but kept her eyes fixed on something within the doorframe.

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask…”

“I’ve got it,” I said, reaching out to pat the man on the back.

“Lansing?” came the questioning tone of Galehaut behind me.

“I’ve got this,” I said again, addressing him. He must of read something in my face because he nodded once and asked the investigator to walk into 3B next.

I approached her slowly. She was fragile looking, defeated almost. She had her arms wrapped around her as if she was trying to hold herself up. Her honey colored hair was pulled up in a ponytail. She wore a white sweater with a scarf around her neck, and skinny jeans tucked into high boots. She had deep brown eyes which I knew from all my flirting with her. She didn’t look up at me, though, as I stopped next to her to look at what she saw within the apartment.

The room was black. Solid black. The remains of a couch. The bare walls with charred studs. The ruined remains of a carpet. We stood next to one another for a brief moment before she spoke.

“I didn’t mean to do it,” she said so softly I almost didn’t hear her.

I glanced at her, but her eyes hadn’t moved.

“I only meant to be gone for a minute, two at the most. Clare was expecting me.”

I didn’t respond when she paused. She needed time and the story would come out.

“I had the oven on to make a cake. I needed one more egg. I don’t know what happened.  I had a few candles going to freshen the room.”

“I don’t think it was your fault,” I tried to sound compassionate.

“I’d told Fleur a hundred times, don’t touch. Don’t touch the candles. Don’t touch the stove. I don’t know what happened.”

“I don’t think it was Fleur’s fault, either,” I said.

“She didn’t mean to do it,” her voice was almost a whisper.

I paused for a moment. The guilt surrounded her so thickly, I could feel it myself.

“What do you think she did?” I asked quietly.

“I think she put her toy pan in the oven. Or she ended up knocking over a candle. She ran to her room because that’s what she learned in preschool.” She closed her eyes and a tear slipped out. “She’s only four,” she added.

“Why was she alone?” I didn’t mean it to sound accusatory, but it must have because she looked at me for the first time. Her tears of shame had turned to a face of determination.

“I needed an egg to make her cake. It was her birthday. I didn’t want Clare to have to come down, and I knew I’d only be a minute. Four flights up. When I left Clare’s apartment, the elevator was just closing. I thought it would be faster than running back down the stairs.” Her tone was biting as she defended her actions.

I held up my hands in a surrender motion. 

“I’m not accusing you of anything.”

“You’d be the first,” she sighed, returning her gaze to the living room.

“It’s always my fault,” she added in a low voice.

“What’s always your…?”

“Ma’am, I’m sorry you need to go now.  We need to inspect this apartment next.”

She gazed up at the investigator and nodded in understanding. Her arms slid to her sides and she turned toward the staircase. Galehaut followed the investigator, but I followed 3A.

“Wait,” I said as she reached the stairs. “Where are you staying?”

“Why?”

“I…” I wasn’t sure why I asked. “I’m just curious.”

Her shoulders shrunk. 

“I stayed at Clare’s sister’s last night with Clare and Fleur, but I can’t stay there another night.”

“Where are you going tonight?”

“I…” She stopped and narrowed her eyes at me. “I don’t know.”

“You could stay with me.”

I didn’t know where the suggestion came from and my voice sounded my own surprise. After a moment, I realized I was serious in my offer.

“You and Fleur, and Clare even, can stay with me,” I said more confidently.

“Clare’s going to stay at her sister’s.  I…I can’t stay with you.”

“Why not?” I asked surprised, as if it was normal for a virtual stranger to ask someone else to live with him.

“I…” She paused for a moment to think. “I have Fleur. And you’re…” She stopped.

“I’m what?”

“You’re Lansing Lotte.”

“So?”

“So? You’re a rock star, and I know all about rock stars,” her tone was mocking, but teasing.

“Oh, yeah?  What do you think you know about rock stars?” I leaned my shoulder against the wall and crossed my arms. I smirked at her, but it was teasing, as well.

“I know plenty about rock stars, and the answer is thank you, but no thank you.”

“Why not?” I said again, standing up right and sounding a bit petulant. It was as if I was on the verge of a toddler tantrum.

She began to laugh softly and the sound went straight to my dick. The sound of that cheery voice was a lift to more than my spirits.

“Look you’re Lansing Lotte.
Lansing Lotte
,” she emphasized stronger.

“You’ve mentioned that. And I know,” I laughed back, “By the way. Who are you?”

She laughed again. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious.”

“You really don’t know my name, after all this time?”

“I really don’t know your name, after all this time.”

She shook her head as if she was disappointed in me.

“I’m Lila.”

“Lila what?”

Her eyes narrowed for a brief second before the merriment returned.

“Lila…Lovelourne.” She hesitated.

“Okkkayyy, Lovely Lila Lovelourne. The offer still stands to let you and Fleur come stay with me.”

“What’s in it for me?” she said, twisting her lips and crossing her arms over her chest, leaning on one foot more than the other to protrude a hip. She looked suddenly sassy and fierce. I noticed, not for the first time, the sexiness of her body. Her hipbones jutted out from the slight lift of her sweater and the low cut of her jeans. I had a momentary slip of focus as I imagined my tongue tracing the lines of those hipbones.

“You get a place to stay?” I accentuated each word slowly, my gaze still forming swirls of tongue on those hipbones.