Last Call

by Michele G Miller

  Falling onto the bed, we continued to kiss. And then we kissed some more. Hands explored skin and shirts came off as his hands seared into my feverish skin.

  Slowly his jeans were removed, shortly followed by my shorts, and finally my bra went and I was very content while Gage lingered at second base taking great care to arouse me slowly. My breasts were heavy with desire after he sucked, licked and kissed their every inch. His hands kneaded them as he pushed my nipple up and into his mouth, forcing a low moan out of me. Each time he sucked it between his teeth, a wave of ecstasy shot down my abs and into my core.

  I slid my hands down into the back of his boxers; my nails lightly scratching over his backside. His erection pressed against me as our hips slowly moved together. When Gage rolled back to his side and splayed his hand on my hip bone, he stopped and looked at me as if asking for permission to continue.

  My pulse was racing, my body throbbing and ready to explode, so I reached over and gently slid my hand into the front of his boxers; leading by example.

  Soon our phone sex was coming to life and it was better than I could have imagined. It was more than the sexual desires he brought out in me, it was also the way my heart felt. The way my soul sang as he whispered sweet nothings into my ear.

  We stopped short of the ultimate release I knew we both craved, and I contentedly snuggled up in his arms under the covers.

  "I want to be inside of you the next time I have to listen to you climax," he breathed; his voice raging with passion.

  I pulled out a large t-shirt and slipped it on. Lying there, his palm lay on my lower abdomen and his fingers slowly rubbed circles on my sensitive skin. My bottom was tucked against his upper thighs, and the evidence of his body's need for me was pressed insistently against my lower back.

  "I’m impressed by my iron will," he muttered, a few minutes after we were all settled in.

  "You’re very strong. I would have caved if it weren't for you," I mumbled sleepily.

  A slight poke at my back told me what he thought of that. "Yes, I’m a man of steel." His voice was proud and I laughed.

  "Just like Superman."

  "Mmmmm, yes," he yawned, squeezing me. "I’m Superman and you are totally my kryptonite, sweetheart. Rest assured that one of these nights I’m not going to be able to resist you."

  "I can't wait," I admitted, a slight smile creeping up my face when I thought about the first dream I’d had of my Aussie Superman.

  "Neither can I Savy. Neither can I."

  Saturday - May 18, 2013

  Four Weeks until "The Wedding"

  Art Show and Time Flies

  The art gallery open house was an overwhelming success. I spent the majority of the first hour welcoming alumni, professors and local distinguished guests, and then answering questions about the exhibit and different mediums used in various pieces.

  Gage showed up as handsome as ever in dark slacks, a white shirt and a royal blue tie. In his arms he carried a beautiful bundle of white lilies tied with a blue ribbon that matched his tie.

  He stood to the side when I was busy working and never once seemed irritated at having to wait for my attention. I caught him studying a few paintings and sculptures, his face changing from admiration to perplexed, depending on the piece.

  I grabbed a quick moment with him about halfway through the night when he asked me about a certain piece that was close to the doorway to my workroom. Taking the opportunity when nobody was looking, I pulled him through the door and attacked him hungrily with a kiss.

  "Wow," he teased after a few minutes. "If I’d known that art galleries were going to get you so excited to see me, I would’ve taken you to one for a date."

  I laughed, feeling my cheeks turn pink.

  "You look absolutely stunning, by the way. They need to hang you on the wall out there." He pulled my arms out to the sides and stepped back to look at me with appreciation.

  "You're the piece of art. You should get dressed up more often, Gage." I flicked his tie and pulled him back to my lips again.

  "So why all the kisses?"

  "I just wanted to thank you. This can't be fun for you - standing around while I'm stuck talking to people - and yet I haven't seen you yawn or roll your eyes once. You don't have to stay, you know."

  "Are you kidding me? I wouldn't miss your big day. Some of the stuff here is really good, too. I mean, like that sculpture thing with the ribbon things sticking up…"

  "That's a girl in motion." I laughed.

  "Girl in motion? That artist has you fooled. That’s just trash thrown together," Gage joked, poking me in the side playfully.

  "I thought you just said you liked it?"

  "I lied." He placed a kiss on the tip of my nose and pulled me to the door. "Come on, sweetheart. You can't hide in here with me all afternoon. The crowd needs your expertise to explain what they're looking at."

  Later that evening after a romantic candlelit dinner and stroll along the river, Gage and I ended up back at his place slow dancing to "Hey Pretty Girl." The lights were down low, and my head rested contentedly on his chest.

  "I love this song," I admitted, sighing.

  "It's your song," he murmured, stroking my back. "This feels so right, Savy. Do you feel it?"

  God I loved the way Savy sounded on his lips. I swallowed hard as I listened to the words being sung. It was all about how the singer wanted to build a life with the girl he was singing it to. It was about getting married and having children. It was about life. I stopped swaying and looked him in the eyes as I spoke.

  "I do," I whispered and his eyebrow cocked slightly. A blush stained my cheeks as I realized what I said.

  "I do too," he admitted, and bent his head slowly to kiss me. It was a long, slow kiss filled with limitless possibilities of a future.

  "Speaking of I do's," I hinted when he finally pulled his lips from mine, "my cousin Mary Anne is getting married on June fifteenth back home, and I have to go."

  "You say that like you're being forced to go. I thought most women loved weddings?"

  "This one is…shall we say…complicated."

  He frowned at me lightly; his eyes searing into mine like he was trying to read my mind. "How so?"

  "Well, she’s marrying my ex."

  "Ohhh, that kind of complicated."

  "Mmmhmmm," I agreed.

  He stopped dancing and asked softly, "Do you have lingering feelings for him?"

  My heart stopped. The easy answer was no, but there was never an easy answer when it came to matters of the heart.

  "That's complicated too. I'm not in love with him anymore, but there are lingering issues that need to be resolved," I admitted somewhat reluctantly.

  He pulled me back into his arms and held my cheek pressed to his chest. I felt his heartbeat racing under his shirt. If he was mad or disappointed in me he didn't say. I just let him hold me and waited for the moment when he would say he was done.

  "Gage," I whispered after a while. Suddenly I was terrified that he might actually be mad. "I wanted to ask you to the wedding. I want you to meet my parents."

  "You do?"

  "Yes, of course I do." I pulled him to the couch and sat next to him. "I'm sorry I waited to tell you about this. Daniel - that's my ex - dumped me a long time ago and ended up with Mary Anne shortly afterwards. It’s made for some messy situations, but I have to tell you that ever since I met you…um, ever since we started seeing each other, I have truly started to see things clearly. I haven't been in love with him for a long time. Honestly I'm not sure if the relationship was real love in the first place. I just needed some time to get over the betrayal, and I'm more than ready to do that now."

  I couldn't sense what he was thinking as he sat there listening to me. He ran his hand through his hair and leaned forward onto his elbows.

  "It's because of you that I'm ready now," I added, touching his forearm lightly.

  "All this time…I knew there was something going on in your head. It’s what ke
pt me from asking you out sooner." Grabbing me quickly and pulling me over to straddle his lap, he added, "It's what stopped me from making love to you," he said boldly; kissing my lips swiftly.

  "It did? I thought you just wanted us to go slow."

  "Savannah, I don't care how strong a man is - when they’re in the positions we've been in, ‘taking it slow’ wouldn't be an option. But I knew. I hung back because I could tell you were keeping something from me. You never talked about your past relationships. So if we go to this wedding, are you going to get closure?"

  I thought for a moment. "Yes, that’s my plan."

  "Then I'm in. I want to meet your parents, Savannah, and I want to know all about your past. I'm one hundred percent committed to this relationship with you. You've become that drug I told you I wanted to crave. I need you," he whispered; causing my heart to stop.

  I hugged him tightly and breathed a sigh of relief. I knew there were other things I still needed to tell him - skeletons in the closet to reveal. After Charleston I was sure that I’d finally be able to put the past behind me and focus on a future. A future that seemingly looked brighter and brighter because of the man holding me in his arms.

  After the showcase, the four weeks until Charleston and the wedding flew by. Now that the work on the gallery showcase was done, I was able to see Gage in the early afternoons before he had to go to the bar.

  There were picnics in the park, bike riding on the greenways, and we went to the movies. Normal things couples did when they were dating. I visited him at the bar a few times late in the evening when he would have more time to chat, and every time I was there I enjoyed watching him more and more. Now that I wasn't playing coy, I enjoyed openly admiring the way he moved around behind the bar. It was as if he owned it. He threw drinks together with flair and kept engaged conversations with his customers.

  Three things continued to dampen my spirits.

  First was the must-have conversation that I kept putting off: letting my parents know I was bringing a date to the wedding. I finally broke down and called my father three weeks before the event.

  "Hi dad," I chirped, when he picked up in his usual business tone.

  "Hi honey, how are you?"

  "I'm good, daddy. Actually, I'm pretty great."

  "I'm interested. What's got you so happy today?"

  I took a deep breath and began to tell him about Gage. "We've been seeing each other for about a month, but dad, this guy is different. I really like him. I know it sounds rushed."

  "Are you calling your mother, Savannah, or are you making me do your dirty work?" he asked, somewhat stoic.

  Of course he caught me. He knew darn well that breaking my mother in about a guy - a guy I was bringing home, no less - was the last thing I would want to do.

  "Weeeelll…"

  "Mmmhmmm, that's what I thought. You’re going to owe me for this one, sweetie."

  "I know daddy, and I love you so much for it. Look, just tell her you don't know anything about him and that I didn't fill you in."

  "So are you going to be avoiding all her phone calls for the next few weeks, then?"

  "That's the brilliant plan." A small grunt that sounded suspiciously like a laugh came from his side of the phone. "I know it's not the mature thing to do, but I don't want her ruining this for me. Not yet."

  "Savannah, your mother only wants to see you happy, honey. She isn't going to try and ruin your relationship. You know, if you two would just talk to each other more, maybe I wouldn't have to be the go-between guy for you."

  "I know she means well dad, but it just never comes out that way. Gage isn't a country club by product, and therefore in her mind he won't be good enough."

  He sighed heavily then. "I know. Since Mary Anne announced her wedding, your mother has moaned and groaned about how it should be you or how you should come home and marry someone richer and better to show them up. She certainly forgets how Livingston tossed you aside and broke your heart."

  The last bit of his speech was said with enough anger to be deadly. Sometimes I forgot how much it hurt my father when Daniel and I broke up. He had been close to the Livingstons before Daniel called it quits with me. After, once we discovered he and Mary Anne were together, my parents’ friendship with them was lukewarm at best. I hated that my little teenage relationship had put such a barrier into a twenty year old friendship.

  Before I could say anything else, the intercom on my father’s work phone went off. I heard his secretary Marla speaking through the phone.

  "I've got an appointment, Savannah. I’ll see you on the thirteenth, correct?"

  "And Gage," I reminded him quickly.

  "Yes, and Gage. I’ll tell your mother to expect company."

  "We're driving over early in the morning, so we should be there by dinner. Love you."

  The second problem was quite perplexing. Sara, Candace and I began to get the eerie feeling we were being watched. It was Sara who initially noticed the strange car parked a few houses down from ours on a daily basis. The golden sedan was parked in front of one house one day, and another the next. Ordinarily it wouldn't have seemed like much, if only it didn't keep changing places.

  Couple that with coming home to broken lights around our house and the odd amount of ‘blocked calls’ we were all getting on our cells, and we were starting to feel paranoid.

  Candace started to let Tony, her now-official boyfriend, stay with us most nights to help calm our nerves. The police said that although it seemed strange to us, it was probably just kids playing around (the lights) and possibly a door to door salesperson that we hadn't seen (the car) and for us not to worry too much. The officer’s exact words were, "This is a nice neighborhood, so you ladies should be very safe here." They did say they would step up their nightly patrol "just in case".

  Regardless, Gage and I weren’t taking anything lightly. After the incident with his car, he was beginning to think that someone truly was after him and was therefore screwing with me.

  Three weeks before the wedding, he made me stop coming to the bar at night alone. That caused our first argument.

  "Gage, I'm a big girl and I'm not going to sit around my house every night with nothing to do!"

  "Please Savannah, don't argue this with me. If there’s someone out there watching you, the best time for them to hurt you would be at night when you’re heading here to see me. I can't protect you if I'm not there."

  "Thank you for the concern. I truly adore you when you worry about me." I leaned over and kissed him lightly before finishing my thought. "But I have no intentions of missing out on our bar nights."

  "Damn it," he snapped, causing me to jump. He turned his back to me, placed his hands on his hips and sighed deeply. "Do you have to be so stubborn about this?"

  "Hey, hey," I crooned. I stood and wrapped my arms around his waist. Resting my cheek on his back, I tried to soothe him. "Tell you what - if you're that worried, I'll stop coming up here by myself. I can usually convince Sara to come, or I can just stop for a week or two and see what happens. I don't want to fight with you about it, though."

  He twisted around quickly and hugged me tightly. "I don't want to fight with you either, and I hate the idea of not seeing you as often as I can. Let's just keep an eye on things for the next week, okay?" I agreed reluctantly.

  After we talked with the police, all the car sightings, broken lights, and eerie feelings of someone following me stopped. Maybe the cops were right and we were just being paranoid.

  The week before the wedding was my last art class for the summer. We were tasked with doing a final art project and I decided to sketch Gage behind the bar doing what he did best.

  I headed into The Painter's Palette mid-week to grab what I needed for sketching over the weekend. The project was due Monday, the week of the wedding. Ryan, whom I'd seen several times at The Garage, called out to welcome me to the store.

  "Hi Ryan," I called back; walking to the sketching supplies for a charcoal block.r />
  "Grabbing supplies for your final art project?" came Ryan's voice from close behind me.

  I looked over at his eager face and grinned. "How’d you know?"

  A slight flush covered his face and he pushed his hands deep into his pockets.

  "I guess you guys have other students coming in this week for stuff."

  "Yep, that's right," he agreed. "Can I help you get something specific? What do you plan on doing?"

  It was my turn to flush. I didn’t know why, but I didn't feel right telling him I was going to sketch Gage. Perhaps it was the puppy dog eyes he always gave me when he saw me, or the way he once asked me for coffee and I’d turned him down. I just didn't want to rub Gage in his face.

  "Oh, I'm sketching a friend. I'm really excited about it. I've enjoyed learning some new tricks in this class for capturing live models," I went on enthusiastically. "Hey - can you help me find a canvas large enough?"

  "I’d be happy to help you. Let me show you everything we have. Oh," he crowed, stopping directly in front of me as I began to follow him. I almost bumped right into his chest when he turned around to face me. "We have some very cool new tools if you plan on doing a charcoal drawing. Right over here."

  So I spent almost an hour walking around The Painter's Palette letting Ryan show me everything they stocked, because of this irrational idea that I would hurt his feelings if I said no.

  The third issue that came up was the voicemail I received from Spencer later that night, asking me to call him so we could talk before we ran into each other at the wedding.

  Putting on my big girl panties, I finally returned his call while Gage was at work on the Saturday before the wedding.

  "Savannah?" he answered; his voice excited and possibly a little shocked.

  "Hi," I started, but it came out small and weak. I cleared my throat and began again. "Sorry it took me so long to get back to you. I've been…" I suddenly stopped speaking, because there was nothing I could rightfully say. Busy? Avoiding you? Scared?