The morning after we first made love here, I told Alan I didn't feel guilty about the affair. He felt the same way. Now that we were busted, I found it remarkable that I still felt no guilt. What we'd done to our spouses was cruel, and I wish we could've settled things differently, but no guilt. Why? Apparently, I was content with having no soul. That's how I'll sign my PhD thesis, "Laura Smith, Serial, Soulless Adulterer."
Another Ping-Pong ball hit the table in my head. So what if Alan cheated on Susan? He was miserable in the marriage. Hadn't he told me himself that he wished she'd choose him and the kids over herself? I can't blame him for anything he did before we met here. It was his life.
And both of us were adulterers in the past. Why, I had even fallen in love with Nick, so it was more than just sex. Didn't that make things worse? I needed to talk to Alan about this, find out what the affairs were. That is, if the affairs happened. And if so, what had those women meant to him? But was I really prepared to handle it if it turned out he might also cheat on me in the future?
Damn, this show was taking a long time. Pain spiked behind my eyes, and I knew a headache was coming on. I was rummaging through my purse for aspirin when I saw Alan's shoes before me. Looking up, I could see the concern on his face. He knew something had happened, but the presence of four excited children dancing around him stopped him from asking me about my meeting.
"How was the show?" I asked guardedly.
Alan picked up on my tone. "Fine. How was your cup of coffee?"
I rose to my feet and popped the aspirins into my mouth, swallowing them dry. A lump formed in my throat, but I had the sneaking suspicion it wasn't from the pills. "Awful," I replied, "and so bad I need to talk to you."
He nodded and announced to the kids that we would hit the stunt show again. A loud, collective shriek was their response.
The kids sat four rows ahead of us. Alan took my hand, and we waited for the show to begin.
"So, what happened?"
I took a deep breath and told him point by point what occurred at the café. He listened quietly, without interrupting, until I finished.
"Laura," he said as he searched my expression, "I didn't cheat on Susan. I'm sorry she said that."
"Why did she tell me that?" I mused aloud.
Alan frowned. "You don't believe her. Do you?"
"Alan, I don't know what to believe anymore. I certainly can't blame you for anything you did before we ran into each other here, and I haven't been a sterling example of a faithful wife." But that wasn't what bothered me, was it?
"Then what's wrong?"
I faced him. "We've been here for almost two weeks. Instead of going home and attempting to build a life together, we've held on tightly to this fantasy place. Why is that? Why are we avoiding the real world, Alan?"
His eyes grew wide, then he shook his head. "So, you worry that we can't make it outside of the fairy tale. Is that it?"
"Maybe. Probably. I don't know." I was blithering on like an idiot.
"Let's talk about this later." Alan released my hand as the tank in the show blew up. The kids squealed with delight. As for me, I wished I was in that tank.
Alan said little to me for the rest of the day. Either he was angry with me for doubting him or was wondering if I was right about us. Not good in any event. For hours we followed the children around like zombies, drowning in self-doubt, self-pity, or both. And I couldn't help but wonder if he was re-thinking the relationship.
What would I do if he changed his mind about me? Devastation swept through me. I'd have nothing but Clara and Rory. Mike was gone. Nick was gone. If Alan flew back to New York without ever looking back, I'd have to pick up the pieces.
I've heard that some people go through their entire lives without falling in love. I've been in love with three different men in the last two years. And as a result, I've been through unrelenting pain. Maybe the loveless had it all figured out. If Alan left me, I vowed never to allow myself to fall in love again. After all, I could probably live the rest of my life on the memories of making love to him.
Good Lord! A life of celibacy?! Okay, I'll revise that. No more falling in love, but I can have meaningless sex with strangers. Hmmm…I needed to refine that attitude.
Dinner consisted of whatever the kids wanted from the food court at the hotel. Alan returned to the rooms laden with everything from pizza to peanut butter sandwiches. The two of us ate quietly while the kids regaled us with the sights and sounds of the day, even re-enacting all of the shows. We bathed them separately and put them to bed. Alan picked up a chair and headed outside, and I followed.
"Laura, about today," he began.
I cut him off. "No, it was stupid of me to question you."
"No it wasn't. Mike and Susan set you up. You bore the brunt of the blow. I should've gone with you."
I shook my head. "I don't know if that would have changed anything, Alan."
"Of course it would. I can guarantee Susan wouldn't have said those things about me if I was there."
I took his hand in mine, and he began to stroke my palm with his thumb. "It doesn't matter. I don't care if you cheated on her or not. I just want to know if there will still be some magic beyond this place."
Alan slid his chair against mine and slipped his arm around my shoulders. I stretched my legs out to the railing. His body language told me all was well. But I still felt miserable.
"Laura," he said after a few moments, "I can't guarantee the future. You just have to have faith."
How could I have faith? I was completely unfaithful to my husband…twice!
"I don't want you to promise me anything." I looked at him. "I don't even know what I'm asking for. We've sidelined this conversation so many times knowing we had a few more days to continue in bed."
Alan nodded. "I know. I've been swept away by my emotions. But in two days, we have to go home, and I want to know that you'll meet me in New Mexico after that."
Ok. We've gone from let's get married to let's just take it one day at a time, but change our lives completely while we do that. My lack of response seemed to surprise him. Without a word, he withdrew his arm from me, picked up his chair, and opened his door.
"I'll see you in the morning, then," was all he said before the door clicked shut and my jaw dropped on the floor. Great Laura. That's just fucking great.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The annual holiday party was a total bust, as they often were. Academic faculty can be a really dull lot sometimes, and this occasion was no exception. The only excitement was that Geoff Anders and Henry Jameson were drunk enough to come to blows as they revisited their usual argument on whether or not Harry Potter was literary.
I was kind of rooting for the fight, albeit silently. Nick hadn't turned up, and I was tired of the same old "what are you doing for break" crap. Rolling my eyes at nothing in particular, I headed to the bar for another vodka tonic.
"Same old, same old, eh?" Nick's soft voice surprised me from behind.
My skin began to tingle with gooseflesh. He always had that effect on me. "I'm hoping for an actual fistfight between Geoff and Henry," I responded.
Nick looked at the two men thoughtfully. "You don't know what it was like before Geoff came. Henry used to argue with Pauline about the divinity of Tolkien."
I looked at Pauline, standing in the corner. She was tall and thin, a very quiet but intelligent woman. "No wonder he switched to Geoff. I think Pauline could take him."
I handed the bartender money and accepted my drink, turning my attention to the two men. Their faces were nearly purple with rage. Neither one of them had wives, so this was pretty much their idea of a good time. No one, as usual, attempted to break it up.
"So," I said to Nick, "Henry is trapped in the land of elves and muggles. No wonder he's such a freak."
Nick laughed softly, his green eyes dancing with amusement. "No wonder he's never gotten laid."
My whole body tensed as he said "laid." After all these month
s, all those cozy little three-hour lunches, I was completely smitten with Nick. I wondered if he knew how little it would take for him to get me into bed?
Nick guided me by the elbow to the nearest table, where he pulled out the chair for me then sat down. He caught me staring at him and held my gaze long enough to know that he was game for whatever happened tonight. Somehow I just knew that we would become lovers within the hour. His hand slipped briefly over mine, then squeezed it and returned to his drink.
It was Nick who introduced me to the vodka tonic, and I was pathetically addicted. We must have had four or five in half an hour. Interestingly enough, we said very little. As if we knew something big was about to happen.
During my fifth drink, I felt his hand on my knee beneath the table. My eyes closed in response, and I concentrated on his fingers slowly sliding up and down my thigh. My body became instantly aroused, and it showed.
When I opened my eyes, I saw that he had been watching me with a slight smile. Some small speck of conscience inside me screamed that I should ask about his wife…talk about my husband…something, but I crushed the rebellion and smiled back. My own hand slid to his leg and began caressing his thigh. We must have looked ridiculous to everyone else, quietly sitting in a corner, our hands under the table, arms moving. But I didn't care.
Nick's chest was rising and falling rapidly. I grew bolder and slid my fingers closer to his groin. His moan shot through me like a rocket, and I could tell my panties were soaked. Now what? My guess was that for him, getting up from the table was impossible. The tablecloths reached the floor. Would we be able to slip beneath the tables?
"My car," Nick groaned, his voice deep with lust, "five minutes." Wisely placing his jacket over his forearm in front of his hips, he rose from the table and disappeared.
My eyes took in the whole room. No one seemed to notice us. In fact, a crowd had gathered to watch as Henry punched Geoff in the nose. A trickle of blood oozed out, and Geoff threw Henry to the floor. No one was watching me. I rose from my chair and fled through the door.
Nick drove a dark red mini-van. While not considered the sexiest of vehicles, I still get flushed and swollen (in all the right places) to this day when I see a red mini-van. I scanned the lot, and found him idling twenty feet away. It didn't take me long to race over and climb in. He pulled out of the parking lot and together we drove off. Neither one said a word. We had a pretty fair idea of what would happen.
The car turned down a wooded, gravel road about ten miles out of town. He was taking me to his farm!
"Diana is out of town, and it's completely isolated," he said, as if reading my thoughts. I just nodded dumbly. He pulled up behind an old barn and opened his door. In a few seconds, he opened my door and helped me out. I followed him around to the back of the van, and watched in a daze as he opened the hatch. I wasn't even shocked to see that the back two bench seats had been removed, replaced with pillows and blankets. I guess we both knew this was inevitable. He had left the car running so it was warm inside. Without a word, we climbed in and closed the hatch.
I wiggled out of my coat and tossed it up front. He had made all the moves. It was my turn to take charge. Gingerly, I climbed into his lap and began kissing him. His arms encircled me at once. We kissed for a while, taking it slowly, enjoying it. Nick was an amazing kisser. His lips were soft, yet desperate, and there was no mistaking the desire behind them.
My emotions ran amok. I became more responsive to his touch. I didn't just want him. I needed him. Gently, he lowered me to the floor and lay beside me, kissing me while his hands stroked my hair, face, and neck. For some reason, this one moment seemed to mean more than making love to Mike ever had. My mind was completely possessed by Nick. His fingers trailed to my shirt, and he carefully undid each button. It was pure agony, waiting for him to finish. When he was done, he slipped it off of me. The exposure of my skin to the air had an electric effect. My body throbbed with need.
"I've wanted this for so long," Nick whispered huskily, causing me to tremble. "I wanted you the moment you sat down with me in that damned cafeteria."
"Oh, Nick," I began to respond brokenly, but he silenced me with his index finger to my lips. I didn't protest.
"I want to know what my touch does to you. How my fingers feel on your skin," he continued while I shook with passion. He removed my bra so fast I barely remember it. As my breasts sprang free, I saw the effect he had on me.
His head dipped, kissing my shoulders while his hands slowly traced the outline of my breasts. Finally, he took one of the nipples into his mouth, caressing my breast with his hand at the same time. I cried out in anguish, and could feel the warm flow of tears on my cheeks.
He refused to be distracted, and his hand traveled down my stomach, disappearing under my skirt. For a moment Nick worked over my panties, sliding his hand back and forth. My body bucked wildly and my hands reached for his shirt.
Nick pushed them away. "No. Not yet." He continued his exploration of my body as I continued to weep in silence. All I wanted to do with the rest of my life was lay there in the back of his van with him. Nothing else mattered more than that.
His kisses became rougher, more feverish.
The rest of my clothes joined my coat in the front seat as I straddled him, my tongue exploring his as my hands tore at his clothes. Somehow, I managed to remove his shirt, and he pulled me hard against his chest. I lost track of my heartbeat, only feeling his as I lay on top of him.
"You feel so good, so very, very good." He was having trouble speaking. "I want to make love to you, Laura."
We made love, right there, in the back of his van. I’d never before been with a man who’d satisfied me so easily. It felt like I couldn’t breathe. I hoped I made him feel the same way, but my thoughts were completely muddled by my own pleasure.
We took it slow, but finally our bodies shuddered to a climax.. His guttural cries shook the night before he collapsed beside me.
For a few moments, we lay there, side by side on our backs, staring at the fogged up windows. Our breathing was shattered and raw. And I realized that I had absolutely no idea what to say or do next.
Nick leaned up on his arm, looking at me. His index finger traced my profile. "My God. That was amazing."
I started to laugh and cry at the same time. "You have no idea."
"If you give me a few minutes, we can do it again." His voice was heavy.
"I couldn't bear the thought of doing anything else," I answered.
We made love for several hours. I'm sure the shocks went out on the van at some point. The air smelled of our bodies and their juices. I didn't care. I forgot who I was and what I was doing. Nothing else mattered.
The sky turned from navy to lavender, and I realized that it was morning. We said nothing else, not making future plans, no promises or expectations. We got dressed and climbed back into the front seat. As he dropped me off at my car, Nick reached over and kissed me, then toyed with a lock of my hair. I got out, and by the time I reached my car, he was gone.
Winter Break began the day after the holiday party, so I didn't see Nick for two, agonizing weeks. Mike and I took the kids to numerous family gatherings and the usual Christmas stuff. There was enough to keep me busy, so I didn't spend all my time counting the days until I could see my lover again. Okay, so I spent most of my time counting the days.
Bedtime was the worst. Not because of having sex with Mike. Actually, that didn't seem to be affected. No, it was once he fell asleep that the torture began. Over and over I'd replay every minute of that night. I could still feel Nick's touch on my body. Every wonderful word he said ran through my brain. Too many nights I didn't sleep, replaying it moment-by-moment in my head until the alarm went off and I went about my day completely, sexually frustrated.
During bits of the day that required me to be alone, such as washing clothes, doing dishes, making dinner, I would practice all the things I'd say to Nick when I saw him again. I worried over each word, ev
ery phrase. Should I be clever? Should I throw myself at him? Common sense dictated to me that I should cut off all lines of communication. Yeah, right. Like I was going to do that.
The idea that I was committing adultery didn't seem to bother me in the least. I didn't feel guilty. And that seemed odd to me. Somewhere along the line I'd decided that I would be happy to pursue the affair. And the day before school began I realized that I was in love with Nick.
Monday afternoon, I arrived in the cafeteria at the usual time, my heart on my sleeve and holding my breath. Nick was waiting for me, grinning that delectably wicked smile of his. I pulled up my chair and sat opposite him, trying with all my strength not to touch him.
"How was break?" I attempted to be nonchalant.
"Miserable," he replied. "I don't want us to go this long not seeing each other."
And that's when the bottom obediently dropped out of my world. So, there would be a next time?
"I was hoping you would say that," I replied as calmly as possible.
Not too far from campus, on the old interstate heading south out of town, was a tiny hotel. The rooms were small and clean, and I believe that Nick and I were its only source of income. For the next nine months, we spent nearly every weekday afternoon there from 1:30 to 4pm. In between lovemaking marathons, we would talk about what was happening between us. The conversations wore me out more than the actual sex. Nick and I soon discovered that we were in love with each other.
I felt like a ticking bomb. I lived for every afternoon. No one at the college or home seemed to suspect anything, and my clandestine activities began to eat away at me. I found solace only in Nick's arms, in the one place I should never have been. Somehow, I managed to successfully fool everyone. Including myself. Especially myself.
In April, we began to joke about running away together. By May, the idea had taken root. I don't know if we ever would have acted on it. But I do know that it was all I thought about.
Sex, Lies, & Family Vacations Page 15
