Sex as a Second Language

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Sex as a Second Language Page 20

by Alisa Kwitney


  On the other hand, if there ever were an excuse for temporarily losing your mind, discovering that you were front-page tabloid news had to be it.

  Kat had been on the subway coming home from her career Armageddon when she had glanced up and noticed someone reading the Informer. At first, Kat hadn’t recognized the haggard actress on the cover. She had thought, Whoever that is, time has not been kind. Of course, it could also be that it was the photographer who was unkind, by choosing a shot that deliberately highlighted all the woman’s flaws. Kat had noticed that when the tabloids couldn’t fill their photo gallery with older actresses who’d become obese, emaciated, or face-lifted into a rictus of perpetual surprise, they hunted for the one bit of cellulite or neck droop on an otherwise lovely woman.

  Kat started reading to see which poor actress was being filleted this week. It really was a horrible picture, made worse by the fact that the woman appeared to be cringing, her mouth gaping open in surprise.

  And then Kat had realized, to her complete horror, that she was the cringing, gape-mouthed, middle-aged woman on the cover. Aghast, Kat had gotten off the train at the next stop, bought the tabloid from the underground newsstand, and read it three times in a row.

  It did not improve with repetition. In fact, it got worse, as she discovered that she’d inadvertently memorized the damn thing as if it were the script to her next show. Which, in a sense, it was.

  SEXY SECRETS OF THE SOAP STARS

  While his estranged wife looks more like a bag lady than the siren of the small screen she once was, Logan Dain appears fitter than ever as he consoles himself with up-and-coming soap star Bo Johnson. Pretty brunette Bo has taken over his wife’s old role as South of Heaven’s spoiled heiress Helen Jessup, and Logan is making a number of guest appearances on his old show. Sources close to the stars say that the two have spent a lot of time “rehearsing their lines” in his private dressing room. But Bo had better not get too used to co-starring with Logan: Our INFORMER tells us that when Logan was on location filming an action movie in Prague, sexy European starlet Alessandra Mili was keeping him entertained…and Miss Mili is about to shoot her next film right here in the U.S. of A.

  Kat had even warranted her own sidebar:

  In a desperate attempt to restore her faded beauty, Katherine Miner has elected to try injections of an untested serum from Brazil. Thousands of rare Brazilian toucan eggs are harvested each year to produce this exclusive treatment, but as this photo shows, in her case, the results have been disastrous.

  Kat couldn’t even remember if toucans came from Brazil, which was hardly the most relevant question. In any case, she thought, turning off the shower, maybe there’s a bright side to this. Maybe the Rejuvenatrix people won’t sue me when they learn that they almost had a crazed toucan-killer as their spokeswoman.

  Kat’s foot brushed up against something hard, and she glanced down to find one of Dashiell’s bath toys. Bending down, she put it outside the tub.

  Now, that would be ironic, falling victim to a three-inch plastic shark. Although at this particular moment, the thought of being stuck in a hospital with all her limbs in traction was almost appealing. At least then she wouldn’t have to walk around Manhattan knowing that thousands of Informer readers across the nation were looking at her picture and thinking “vain Brazilian-bird-killing bitch.”

  Kat stepped carefully out of the shower and instantly slipped on the toy shark that she’d just removed from the bathtub.

  Stunned, she sat on the floor for a moment, then put a hand to the back of her head, where an unpleasant burning sensation told her she was probably bleeding. She must have hit the corner of her little bathroom table on her way down. Staring at the vivid red blood staining her palm, Kat remembered reading somewhere that head wounds bleed a lot. But do they bleed a lot and then you’re all right, or do they bleed a lot and then you die?

  She tried to stand up, then stopped, frightened by a sudden rush of dizziness.

  “Magnus?” She had no idea if he would be able to hear her from the other side of the apartment, so she shouted his name the second time.

  Right before she drew a breath to try a third time, the bathroom door opened. “Katherine? What’s wrong?”

  To her own surprise, she burst into tears.

  chapter thirty

  m agnus’s first impression was that there was a lot of blood. His second impression was that Katherine was naked and possibly hysterical. “It’s all right, take a deep breath, there you go.” He checked her eyes to see if her pupils were dilated and tried to slow his own breathing down. Don’t panic, don’t conjecture, take this step by step. There was blood on the tile floor, on the white porcelain sink, on Katherine’s neck and right breast.

  “Can you tell me what happened?” He couldn’t tell if her skin was clammy or if she were just chilled from being wet and naked. Magnus pulled down a towel and tucked it around her, then gently inspected the back of her head.

  “I slipped.”

  “Stay still. That’s a nasty cut. Did you black out?”

  “I don’t think so. No. But when I tried to stand up just now, I felt like I was about to.”

  “Let me take another look.” Ignoring the sharp pain in his knee as he shifted his weight on the hard tile, Magnus searched carefully through her long, dark hair. “Actually, it’s not as bad as I thought. The edges are a little farther apart than I’d like, but I don’t think you need stitches.”

  “So I’m all right?” Her voice was too breathy. Shit. Something must have happened to upset Katherine. She didn’t strike him as the kind of woman to turn weak at the sight of a little blood.

  Magnus glanced at the bathroom walls. Well, more than a little blood. “You’re really fine. Although…do you have a butterfly bandage?”

  “I might. There’s a first-aid kit in the medicine cabinet.”

  Magnus went to fetch it. When he sat back down, he saw that Katherine had drawn the towel more carefully around her, drawing his attention to the fact that it didn’t conceal all of her breasts, and barely covered the tops of her thighs. Catching his look, she said, “This is pretty embarrassing.”

  Instantly, he felt his body respond to her self-consciousness in a way it hadn’t when he’d thought there might be a real medical emergency. Feeling overdressed in a long-sleeved shirt and jeans, Magnus began to sweat in the humid bathroom. “If you lean forward, I can clear away some of this blood from your scalp.”

  “Sure. It’s just—I’m a little light-headed.”

  “Putting your head down should help.” As Katherine bent over, the silver pendant he’d given her swung out of the towel. She’d kept it on. Which meant that she was wearing it all the time, even when she bathed. And if she felt like that, then maybe she wouldn’t just write him off when he confessed who he really was. Feeling a little light-headed himself, Magnus began to clean the blood off Katherine’s hair with a gauze pad.

  “First you had to patch up Dash, and now me.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “How do you stay so calm?”

  “It never does any good to panic.” Magnus dabbed some antibiotic ointment on the laceration before applying the butterfly bandage.

  “I get the feeling you’d be good in an emergency. Good under fire.”

  Magnus stopped moving his hand for a moment. “Well…”

  “That’s why you’d make a good father.” An awkward silence. “I meant theoretically.”

  Magnus rocked back on his heels. He had always worried that he might turn out like his own father—an aloof figure, impossible to read, good enough as an adjunct parent but woefully inadequate to the task of raising a son on his own. Maybe that’s why I didn’t push the fertility issue with Guthrun. But here Katherine was saying she thought he’d make a good father. Unsure how to respond, Magnus changed the subject. “There, you’re all fixed up. Let me help you to bed.”

  Was Katherine right about his potential to be a decent dad? She certainly knew enough
lousy fathers. Slipping his arm around her waist, Magnus thought, I do not have time to think about this right now. He’d left the chewing gum in the phone booth just after Katherine had gotten home, and his note, typed in null cipher, had suggested they meet tonight at ten. He’d picked the late hour because Fez was one of the few restaurants around that remained open on Mondays, and it was packed with people until nine-thirty or so.

  Since Ken would be expecting Katherine, Magnus figured his best bet was to simply slide into the seat alongside him and make his pitch fast, before Ken could get away.

  “Magnus?”

  Only problem was how to begin. “I don’t want to hurt you” sounded like a threat. “Don’t get up” sounded worse. Magnus settled Katherine on the edge of her bed, distracted. “You all right?”

  She inhaled, as if gathering courage. “That necklace you gave me for my birthday.” She touched it with one hand.

  “You already thanked me.” Magnus checked the back of Katherine ’s head. “The bleeding has stopped.”

  “It’s not just something you picked up from the store, is it?”

  Magnus paused. “Well, no. It belonged to my mother.” He’d given his mother’s engagement ring to Guthrun, of course, but the silver charm actually held greater sentimental value for him. His mother had given it to him when he was nine, the day she told him that the cancer had come back. For strength, she’d said.

  Katherine was watching his expression. “Maybe I shouldn’t keep it.”

  Magnus shrugged, uncomfortable. “It’s not as if I ever wear it.” He wanted to say something else, about feeling a connection to Katherine that made it all right for her to have it, but he couldn’t.

  And yet, looking into her eyes, he had the feeling that she understood.

  “Magnus? I want to ask you something.”

  Oh, dear God, she was going to ask him about his mother. That wasn’t a place he wanted to go. He didn’t even like to think, let alone talk, about it. Magnus glanced at the clock, wanting to be out of this house, out of this room, out of this heavily charged moment. Given the choice between discussing his dead mother and capturing an unstable secret agent, Magnus thought he preferred the latter.

  But to his surprise, all Katherine said was, “Could you put your arms around me for a moment?” When he hesitated, she added, “I’ve had a really bad day.”

  And just like that, Magnus forgot about his own anxieties. Sitting down next to her on the bed, he drew her in close. Katherine rested her head against his chest, and he inhaled the clean, citrus-soap smell of her. Her hand crept over to rest on his chest, and he wrapped his fingers around hers.

  Katherine ducked her head into the crook of his neck. “I’m cold.”

  He tucked her into his body, gently rubbing her back and shoulders. He was aware that it was a sign of trust that Katherine was letting him see her like this, quiet, vulnerable, in need of his comfort. He pressed a kiss to her damp hair, and She turned in his embrace. Her movement caused her towel to slip. And suddenly a different kind of comfort came to mind.

  Magnus tried to pretend that he hadn’t noticed, running his fingers circumspectly over her arms and down her back as if he weren’t getting hard inside his jeans. Katherine apparently had a different idea. “Magnus?” She stood up, gloriously, unabashedly naked except for his silver pendant around her neck, and walked across the room. Shutting her bedroom door and locking it, Katherine turned to him. “I’ve decided I don’t want to take things slow.”

  Still riveted by the sight of Katherine’s nude body, it took Magnus a moment to compute. When he did, his erection became almost painful. The problem was, if he acted on it, he was the dickhead. Oh, Jesus, this was really unfair. “Katherine, I don’t know if this is such a good idea right now.”

  Katherine closed her eyes. “Ouch.” Picking up her towel and wrapping it around herself, she gave him a wry smile. “You know, that wasn’t quite the reaction I was hoping for.”

  Shit. He’d hurt her, made her feel self-conscious. “Katherine, I…” Magnus had no idea how to finish the sentence. Have to be ambushing your father in about forty-five minutes? Excuse. He needed to think of an excuse.

  “You know, I keep hearing how the culture has become saturated with sex and how explicit everything is and how everyone and their grandmother are having affairs with people they met in internet chat rooms. But you know what? Not in my reality.” Tears were running down Katherine’s face now. “I want to feel sexy again. I want to feel passionate and hopeful and…I don’t know.” Katherine swallowed. “Young.”

  His mind racing, Magnus silenced her with a kiss. Maybe, if he could just communicate how badly he wanted her, that would be enough. He kissed her with all the pent-up frustration inside him, and as she clutched his shoulders, Magnus lifted her onto his lap, so that she was straddling him. Pulling the towel away from her body, he wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, but all the words felt canned and fake, like imitating something he’d seen in a movie. So he tried to tell her with touch instead, admiring her breasts with his fingertips, complimenting her taut waist, her full hips, showing her how much he approved of the firm roundness of her rear.

  Actually, he might have gotten a little carried away approving of her rear. Which was probably a mistake. How do I even know whether she likes this, he thought. Guthrun hated it when I touched her there. During the first year of his marriage, he’d learned to think of a woman’s body as a minefield—two inches to the left was safe to explore, two inches to the right and you’d blown it. But then Katherine arched her back, and just like that, Magnus knew.

  It was like the moment when he’d stopped mentally translating English into Icelandic, when everything had clicked and become natural, fluid, instinctive. He might never have mastered his ex-wife’s signals, but he appeared to be fluent in Katherine.

  He drew her nipple back into his mouth, letting her feel the edge of his teeth this time.

  “Oh, God, Magnus.”

  Katherine strained against him as he moved from one nipple to the other, wondering if he could make her come like this. Jesus, it was possible he could make himself come like this. Winding her hands around his neck, Katherine pressed herself against him, his jeans the only barrier between them.

  He’d really begun to hate those Levi’s. And he wasn’t too fond of his shirt, either.

  As if reading his mind, Katherine started dragging his shirt over his head. “I want to feel you.”

  Magnus gave a low groan when she pressed her breasts to his bare chest, helplessly holding her hips and grinding himself against her. “Shh, you have to be quiet. Dashiell’s asleep.”

  Nobody in his entire life had ever implied that Magnus was too loud. “But he’s on the other end of the hallway.”

  “Don’t argue with me.” Katherine bit the pad of muscle where his throat met his shoulder.

  Magnus inhaled sharply as that small pain sent a shock wave of sensation straight down to his dick. Jesus. He pushed his hand down between them, wanting nothing more than to unbutton his jeans and enter her body. But as he came into contact with her slick inner flesh, he hesitated. How could he take her like this, under false pretenses? On the other hand, how could he leave her like this, trembling on the brink?

  Katherine broke his train of thought by rolling her hips. “Magnus.” Unaccustomed to having his partner take such an active role, Magnus was too surprised to react when Kat began to unbutton his jeans. It was only when he found himself staring down at his own erection, peeking over the top of his snug black boxers, that Magnus stopped her, covering her hand with his own. “I think I’d better keep these on for now.”

  “But I want to touch you.” She reached for him and Magnus grabbed her wrist. Raising an eyebrow, she reached for him with her other hand, and Magnus pinned that wrist, too. “Katherine, we can’t.”

  She lowered her chin and smiled, her look as provocative as it was insolent. “Don’t tell me I need to best you in fair battle?” She ki
ssed him, hard, twisting her wrists, trying to get free. And maybe he was perverted, but this whole Viking versus warrior maiden scenario was pushing him over the edge.

  I have got to get back in control of this, and quick. Cradling the back of her head with one arm, Magnus flipped Katherine over onto the bed, so she was lying on her back beneath him. She continued to struggle, but now…oh, man, now he could feel her better.

  “Stop fighting me,” he told her, his voice sound unusually gruff. It was hard enough fighting his own need to thrust. But he couldn’t allow this to go any further until he’d broken cover and told her the truth about himself. What they’d done up till now was intimate enough, but according to his ex-wife, all women had one category for the men they’d fooled around with, and another for the ones they’d actually allowed inside their bodies.

  Of course, at the moment, the distinction was getting a little blurry. Katherine was twisting her body, and her movements slid him along the channel between her thighs. Magnus gritted his teeth at the almost painful pleasure that the friction was causing. “Katherine, please, you have to stop.” All it would have taken was a slight shift in the angle of his hips and the tip of his erection would be pressing against her entrance. As much to stop himself as to satisfy her, Magnus reached around and slid his free hand over Katherine’s flat belly, slipping a finger inside of her.

  Katherine looked up at him. “If you’re trying to be gentlemanly, forget it.”

  “Forget what?”

  “Ladies first.”

  “Forget ladies first?” He wondered if she wanted him to forget all the other women he’d been with. If so, he already had.

  Katherine let out a sigh of exasperation. “Look, it takes me a long time to relax enough with a man to have an orgasm. And I’m not talking about hours, I’m talking weeks or months. So don’t think you have to satisfy me before we make love.”

 

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