Cyndi was belting it out now and Val decided to go for stupid. If in doubt, choose excess. It was a motto somewhere, right? She kicked off her shoes and stood on top of the coffee table, the little monopoly dog biting into her heel. She squawked and kicked it away. Val started doing her dance routine from years ago. It consisted of lots of high kicking, shaking and generally lame 80's moves.
I really need some leg warmers.
Jack sat on the floor looking up at her and she wished she had her camera, his mouth was hanging open. He snapped it shut, came to some mental decision, then sat back to watch her.
Val wanted to laugh really loudly but couldn't have said exactly why. Taking the controller, Jack turned up the volume in encouragement. She danced and moved and when the song came to an end he held up his hand to help her down from the makeshift stage.
Handing her another drink, he said, “If college doesn't work out can I suggest stripping? Only if it's tasteful, of course.”
“Of course!”
She grabbed his hand and licked his wrist, almost spilling his drink. Maybe she'd pulled a little harder than was necessary.
I am totally drunk. Then it was her turn again and he held her hand, looking at it intensely, making the moment drag.
Turning her hand over so that her wrist was up, he bent over her pulse and kissed it lightly. Then he licked her and poured salt on her skin. Her wrist burned from his touch, little tendrils of heat skating up her body and she could feel her body responding. She squeezed her thighs together and they drank their shots.
“What will it take for you to dance, Jack?” she asked him teasingly, trying to get past the desire to rip his clothes off. What would he do if she threw herself at him? Maybe she could get in one good kiss and grope before he pushed her away.
That was too depressing.
“Nothing.” His tone was strident. “No power on this earth could make me dance.... Well— ” He gave a shrug that reminded her he was actually Italian. She knew he wasn't going to tell her what the song would be. Who did he think he was kidding?
“Oh no, Jackie! I know you. You're a good American now, but I know your weakness...” She let the moment draw out and he actually cringed. “a-ha. Take on me, right?” She belted out the main lyric, “Taaake on me, take on me! Dude, you are so 80's.”
Jack raised his hands and again she was reminded that he was European, as he made a flapping or shooing motion with his hands, perhaps to dispel the truth of her words— or some pigeons. “I know! I know! I can't help it! I love those damned Norwegians! It was a crucial stage in my development. Go to any karaoke bar in Italy and I swear you'll hear it at least twice! It's not just me, it's the entire country!”
“Oh sure. When I think of Italy I think of fascism and a-ha.”
And then it happened.
Pop up video came through.
Take on me by a-ha.
They both looked at the television in mild disbelief while the bubbles bleeped across the screen giving information about the band. They watched as the silly cartoon drawing band went running down corridors. “Hop to it! You are on! This is fate. If you don't do it you could be smote down! You don't go against fate!”
He shook his head.
“Jack, you have had several shots of tequila and will be hung-over in the morning. We may not even remember that this happened! You should do it. You can blame it on the alcohol! Now go get jiggy with it!”
He gave a long-suffering sigh. She opened her mouth to offer more words of encouragement, but he held up a finger to forestall her, grabbed the bottle of tequila, took a big fortifying swig and hopped up onto the table. He used the half empty bottle for a microphone and gave a fairly earnest performance of the song, at one point stopping to complain, “Do you know how hard it is to sing this song? I'm not doing the high-pitched parts. That's not part of the deal.”
But when the high part came, he gave it a try and she was charmed. She'd also never laughed so hard in her entire life. He reached the third stanza, knowing all the words by heart and she felt like he was singing to her, wishing the words were for them.
Would he always come for her?
Val realized she was biting her lip. He was actually graceful. Jack could dance? He tapped his foot and did the occasional hip swivel and point. Then he clapped his hands, careful of the bottle, and she became suspicious.
“Did all these moves come from Dave Gahan?”
Jack winked at her and she knew the dancing was on purpose. She'd been obsessed with Depeche Mode and had seen the concert videos over and over again, much to everyone's irritation. By virtue of living with her he'd been forced to see it at least ten times.
“You are so fucking hot right now.”
Jack stopped and looked at her, an inscrutable expression on his face. She clapped her hand over her mouth in horror as he stepped down and put the bottle on the table with careful precision.
“That's it, Val,” His voice was dark and she knew he was going to leave. She'd gone too far. But he didn't. He came towards her and extended his hand. Her heart pounding, she took it and he pulled her up off the floor and into him so that she was flush against his body.
She could feel his heat and heartbeat through her sweater. Or maybe it was hers. She couldn't think. She looked up into his face, and held her breath in mingled fear and excitement. He was looking at her hungrily. Passionately. Unconsciously, she licked her lips. With a mumbled Italian curse he leaned down and kissed her.
His lips were dry, soft and warm as he kissed her lightly, almost chastely. Then, he hesitated as though waiting for her to answer a question. Val tilted her head a little, inviting him to kiss her back, but so afraid of breaking the moment and exposing her desire for him, that she couldn't kiss him back.
His tongue touched the seam of her lips, then withdrew. His hands came up to frame her face and he pressed kisses on her quickly. Slow kisses, then harder kisses, at the corner of her mouth and one that sucked lightly on her lower lip which she felt all down her body and made her gasp in pleasure.
The kisses became wetter as she opened her mouth under his, giving in to him with abandon. The feel of his tongue sliding into her mouth with a soft thrust made her knees weak. It was a totally new sensation and she wrapped her arms around his neck, needing support to stand.
Jack reached down and picked her up, so that she was forced to wrap her legs around his waist. He walked with her to the couch, settling his body on top of hers, never breaking their kiss. His hips were wedged between her thighs, moving against her. If they'd been undressed he would have slid inside of her, he was so perfectly placed. The feel of his erection burning against her made her wiggle closer, try to settle her damp heat against him, get that fraction of an inch closer.
They stopped kissing, staring into each other's eyes for a moment, and Valerie wanted to shout at him, tell him she loved him, that she'd loved him for years and that she always would.
Her fingers clenched on his shoulders as she forced herself to stay quiet but she wondered if he knew because he made a whisper soft shushing noise before slowly lowering his head back to hers.
She met him halfway and wondered if they were both being careful for fear of breaking the moment.
Jack's lips touched hers again and she felt her whole body soften, her lips part, welcoming him into her. The kiss was sweet and then it changed.
She couldn't have enough of him fast enough to put out the flames. Val crushed her lips against his, years of build up for this moment wiping out any trace of gentleness, as desperate urgency replaced her hesitancy. He groaned and pushed back with his mouth and hips. His head tilted to the side, trying to kiss more of her, deeper. Her hands fisted in his hair, the dark silken strands sliding between her fingers, like silk.
There was no hesitancy or softness in him as he moved his lips to her neck. Needing the friction, she tried to move against him, grinding her hips into him, wanting every part of their bodies to be flush. Jack's hands settled on h
er rear, pulling her closer to him. His mouth came back to hers for a wet and open kiss that made her whole body clench in need. She nipped him.
He jerked against her in pleasure, grinding his pelvis against her over and over, mimicking the movement of thrusting within her and she realized how easy it would be— a few pesky scraps of fabric removed and he could be inside of her.
This could be real.
His breath came harsher and she desperately wanted him to palm her breasts. She could hear them both panting heavily in time to the thrust and press of their bodies.
I could come just from this, she thought dazedly. It was just right, a deep pulsing press against her and she wondered if he knew how much this turned her on. How each stroke made her climb higher, want to squeeze him closer and closer.
His tongue swept into her mouth again and she knew this was what it would be like if they had sex; hard and fast, desperately urgent. She'd be making up for years of repression and a future that could be finite.
She moved her hands down his back, under his shirt. His skin was warm and smooth, the muscles bunching against her fingers. He shivered and exhaled harshly next to her ear, raising goosebumps across her skin. She felt powerful.
This was her Jack and he wanted her back.
She felt the muscles of his sides, traced his shoulders, feeling the hard muscles tense and relax as she touched him.
Val moaned loudly when his hand cupped her breast. Then he kissed her neck and she put her head back, urging him on. Jack bit her lightly on the neck then licked her soothingly. He sucked her earlobe into his mouth, his breath exhaling in her ear, sending shivers down her body.
“Oh God, Val,” The words were dragged from him, his voice deep and agonized. It was the most erotic thing she had ever heard and it was enough to push her over the edge. She felt her whole body tighten, pulse endlessly and then relax as she came with a cry against his mouth.
She breathed heavily and pulled back a little, saw the want on his face. He'd watched her orgasm and in response he was grinding himself against her heavily, kissing her deeply while he restlessly shifted his weight against her as though he could will the fabric away.
And then something changed. The kiss became slow again. An exploration of her mouth as he savored her, tasted her and traced the shape of her lips. His hand fisted in her long, heavy hair and she wanted him to tug harder.
Val closed her eyes and said something encouraging. But Jack released her, striding to the other side of the room like the hounds of hell had a hard-on for Italian flesh.
Jack took some deep breaths and put his hands on his hips, pulling himself together.
That’s it?!?
Without a doubt, he was letting her go, she knew it. He looked at her, his eyes raking her from head to toe like he was imagining her naked. His gaze was predatory and she wondered if this could continue if she pushed him.
Taking a deep, fortifying breath, Val walked towards him. “Jack, come on Jack.” Her voice was sultry without trying. Val was ready for bed, ready for him, had waited years for them to get to this point and she wouldn't let him leave without a fight.
If she let him go now, she'd always wonder what could have happened, if she'd let her future slip away because of her own cowardice. She couldn't take that risk.
A look of pain flashed across his face and he closed his eyes. She tried to twine her arms around his neck but he held her lightly away from him, maintaining several inches of distance.
“Val, this was a mistake. We are both wasted and out of our minds. In the morning we will regret this.”
I won’t. But he would. Val tried to disagree but couldn't think of anything to say.
“This has always been here Val. We know it and we avoid it because it doesn't change anything. All it will do is tear us apart.”
“We are already apart. How can this make it worse? What if something happens Jack, and one of us dies? I want to know what it's like. I want you and I always have.” She tried to step in close to him again but he gripped her wrists, a light squeeze that stopped her cold.
“Do you know what I have in my life? You. You and your father. Everything I do is for you and my parents. You are so conflicted and desperate to run from me and this life.... I don't blame you. But I can't do this every day and have you as my weakness. You hate this life and eventually you would hate me too.” There was a pause before he spoke on a sigh. “You’d destroy me.”
She shook her head in denial, tears sliding down her face.
Leaning down, he kissed her on the lips. Quickly. He wiped away her tears with his thumb, his hands on either side of her face. “I know the life you want and I can't give you that. And maybe it makes me an asshole, but I don't want to taste what I can't have.” He took in a breath but didn’t release her. “I had a perfect childhood Val and they— it was ripped away.” His voice trembled with grief, making her cry harder.
She clung to his hands, trying to keep some link with him for as long as she could.
“I see the life you have, what you have made for yourself and I want that for you. I am trying to be a good enough man to want that for you...so don't torture me with this. I'm not the white picket fence guy. I like you happy, carefree. You're my bright spot, the light in my life.” he paused, “And yeah, I read it in a Hallmark card but it's still true.”
Val choked on a desperate laugh. With all her heart, she wanted to deny his words. “This isn't funny.” There was nothing else to say, she couldn't believe it. I always have something to say!
He let her go and she felt numb, like she'd survived the apocalypse.
Each step felt uncoordinated, one foot in front of the other but nothing to do with her. The stairs were hard: heavy and slow. A part of her didn't expect to make it to the top, as though her grief would bring her crashing down.
Wouldn’t he change his mind? She'd feel his arm stop her, pull her back and things would work somehow. The fairytale come true. It wasn't even a fairytale she wanted, dammit! She wanted normalcy. A hot boyfriend who loved her, was that an exceptional wish?
But he didn't stop her.
*******
The next morning she felt like a husk. And she was the proud owner of the hangover from hell. No returns allowed.
Jack drove her to Berkeley. It took two hours from San Loaran. Neither of them spoke and Val looked out the window. The view changed from dry, flat land to rolling hills and then it was gone, covered in concrete and civilization. What would she do amongst all these people? How would she function without Jack and the friends she had known?
He took her to her dorm in brittle silence. Then, dropping her bags off with a heavy thunk he disappeared for a while. Examining everything, she knew. Her father had already been here and done that, but Jack would do it again.
He came back. Jack knelt before her and she turned her head away from him. She didn't want to see his beautiful face. She could feel the sadness like a weight in him but he was the one turning away from her. She would have tried, would have thrown herself into anything with him if he'd asked, screw the consequences. They'd deal with it when they had to.
But that was what made them different. She let her life be blinkered while he planned it all out and he knew how this story ended even if she didn't want to.
Jack took her hand and put the pager into it.
“You didn't have to go to all that trouble to get me to take this. I would have taken it without the mind fuck.” She gave an ugly little laugh and he stayed where he was, watching her, ready to take whatever she would say.
“Do you know what, Jack?” Her voice quavered and she wasn't sure if it was rage or pain that caused it, probably both.
Love is Darkness (A Valerie Dearborn Novel) Page 7
