Natural Selection

by Amanda Lance

  “What would a man half out of his mind do?” she teased, subtly placing her hand around his neck. “And why are you complaining about the way I’m dressed? Don’t you like how I look?”

  “I—that—you—”

  “I came here to give you a taste of your own medicine,” she whispered softly in his ear. “To show you what you’ve been missing…”

  He submitted gladly to her will, joining his lips with hers again until they melded as a single mouth. And so distracted was he that he barely felt the way she turned him around, pushing him gently, but firmly enough to sit back in the chair.

  As if it were the most natural thing in the world, his hands found her waist, sliding to her backside as she tangled herself further around him. It was almost simultaneous when they moaned into each other mouths, the rush of the moment hitting both of them. He moved the hair back from her face and kissed her deeper, inhaling as much of her as his body could bear. Even that however, was not enough. She was something life sustaining, as dear and necessary to him as oxygen and water. On the whole, he could not get enough of her—but perhaps it was in his desperation that she sensed his weakness, and before he could reach for more of her, she pushed him away—much harder than he expected.

  “Are you trying to drive me crazy?”

  “Yes.” She smirked. “I am, actually.”

  Before he realized what she was doing, her hands moved from his chest to his stomach, her slim fingers over the buckle of his belt.

  “Emilia, you don’t have to—”

  “Yes.” She paused and ran her hands over his shoulders. In an instant, all of his tension there was relieved, everything else washed away as she kissed him again. “I do.”

  “But you shouldn’t—”

  “I want to.”

  “Why?” he managed to croak.

  “Just because you won’t touch me, doesn’t mean I can’t touch you…”

  Like something in slow motion, he watched like a helpless animal while she worked to rid him of his breeches. And like something equally as feeble and desperate, he ran his hands over her stomach—tried to gain enough control of the situation to touch her chest—but each time he got close she would twist away from him just until she was out of his reach and seated on her knees.

  Admittedly, he was confused by this game, though incredibly enticed by it just the same, and when it occurred to him what she was doing; a combination of disgust and intrigue overwhelmed him. This was something that whores did! Even with the high-priced ladies of the evening he had employed in his youth he hadn’t dared to ask this—it was far too revealing and left him much too vulnerable. Despite that awareness however, he did not dare ask her to stop—the remainder of his sanity depending on the pleasure she promised.

  She began with subtle kisses, testing the limits with a gentle scratching of her fingernails before engulfing him completely—as much as she could, anyway, with her lack of this skill. But what she lacked in experience, she made up for in enthusiasm—growing bolder by the second and setting her lips to tighten around him.

  Groaning, Kasper gripped the sides of the chair tighter. “Dear God! What are you doing to me?”

  She smiled against him and closed her eyes. If she had known this was going to be so much fun, she would have done it sooner. While their time together at Iram Manor had been memorable, certainly the greatest time of her life—it was still filled with awkward moments, and Emilia had never dared to do anything like this before. And he had certainly never been brazen enough to inquire.

  But then, as abruptly as she started: she stopped.

  For an instant, he thought perhaps he had imploded with pleasure—literally died and gone to heaven, but as she stood up and flicked her tantalizing tongue against her bottom lip, she sighed, pulling the strap of her top back up that she had lost in the hustle.

  “W-what?”

  “Did you enjoy that?”

  He struggled to regain his breath, letting the air huff out of him in rapid motion. “Not nearly as much as I would have liked to! Why in God’s name did you stop?”

  She shrugged and wiped a line of their combined fluids from her lips. “You told me I needed to use my ears more than my mouth…” She smirked and walked away. “I’m merely taking your advice.”

  And then, like a giggling enchantress, she left him to his lonesome, and his most terrible wicked thoughts.

  Chapter 8

  Control Gauge

  She ignored his calls all of the next day and the one after that, feeling more powerful and triumphant than she had even originally hoped. The look on his face! The gasp of shock when she walked right out the door! Needless to say, it was better than she expected. For the first time since Kasper had come to Ithaca, Emilia was in control—and she liked it. Loved it, if she was completely honest with herself, and the mere potential of it opened up a new realm of daydreams and fantasies that kept her preoccupied as she avoided him—playing her game as she had planned. The only bad part of their newest interaction was how difficult it was for her to concentrate on everything else. Even the most basic things reminded her of sex, cleaning the hard-drive of her laptop, cutting up a banana for her cereal, even clipping the dogs’ nails reminded her of the way he might groan when her nails ran down her back…

  “Em? Hello there?”

  “Oh.” She giggled and twirled her pen around between her fingers. “Sorry about that. I guess I sort of left the building there.”

  Claudette laughed. “I’ll say.” She plopped her newest bag of donations on the counter. “Listen, I hate to be that girl, but uh—”

  “You need a favor?”

  Claudette nodded. “I kind of need my dress back. I’m sorry about the last minute, but the dress I ordered doesn’t fit right and I thought since I looked so good in the black one…”

  “It’s fine.” She laughed. “I’ll bring it in tomorrow.”

  “Cool.” She sighed and went back to organizing. “I was afraid you’d be mad at me.”

  Truth be told, it normally would have annoyed her and she would have held a grudge over Claudette for a few hours, but with everything going so well, she didn’t have it in her. After the treatment she gave Kasper the other day, she figured she could wear her pajamas to the gala and he wouldn’t have noticed.

  “Nah.” Emilia nudged her with her elbow and smiled. “Though I’m not excited to be searching for a dress last minute.”

  Claudette winced as if she had seen an ugly injury. “My bad—feel free to pull a favor out of the friend bag anytime you want.”

  Emilia laughed. “I’ll have to do that. In the meantime though, did the party rental place call back?”

  “Yep. Paula is on the phone with them right now.”

  She looked over the top landing; sure enough, Paula was arguing away and she laughed.

  “What are you so happy about?”

  “Life,” she said in a sing-song voice. “I’m pleasantly surprised at how wonderful it can be sometimes.”

  “Wow,” she mouthed. “In love, much?”

  “Yeah, actually.” Emilia bit her lip to sustain her giggle. “I am.”

  Saying it out loud made it tangible, like a painting come to life. The fact was that she was in love with Kasper, still, completely, and so desperately always had been. There would never be anyone else to compare, and no obsession that would ever outdo him. And the moment she realized it, it also occurred to her how much he truly loved her, the lengths that he would go to.

  It wasn’t the way he had given in to her demands, sacrificing his dignity or pride when he first came to see her. It wasn’t even the apologies or his claims to change—his pleas that had amazed her the first time. It was in the way he had imbedded himself in her cause, turning himself into a party planner though he hated such frivolous things. The money he had spent didn’t matter, but the effort did. Why would anyone else expose themselves to the public they hated and for animals they couldn’t
stand? That had to have been more than lust—though that was something of a factor, too. The way he kissed her was amazing—worthy of record breaking. And Emilia knew, instantly, within that second, that they were as fated for one another as she had always thought.

  “Your Kasper? Really? Things are that serious?”

  She nodded. “They are.”

  Claudette blew the bangs out of her face and sighed. “Are you sure he doesn’t have a brother?”

  She stopped giggling and sighed. As much as she loved Kasper, the fact still remained that she didn’t know much about him—other than what he considered to be his worst secret and what she had found on the internet. What if he did have siblings? And what about the childhood he never wanted to discuss? During their time at Iram Manor, Kasper had been more than happy to let Emilia discuss her own life. Insisting on it point in fact every time she brought up the subject of the past. And while she had appreciated it at the time, the memory now filled her with shame. She should have made more of an effort to know the details of his life, acquaint herself with the past that made him up. Grimacing, Emilia vowed to correct that problem as soon as possible.

  She went back to the desk and searched for the phone under the stacks of mess. Over her shoulder, Claudette called out something about wanting to meet him but it was lost to Emilia’s new mission.

  At this point she knew the number of his hotel by heart, but until she heard his voice again, seconds felt like a short forever. She tapped her foot eagerly against the side of her chair, feeling as impatient as Tut before a meal.

  “My little peach…” he crooned into the phone after the first ring. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  “Tell me something about yourself.”

  She could almost see him startling over the other end of the phone. “Pardon?”

  “Tell me something about yourself, something I don’t know.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I asked you to.” Thinking her response sounded like that of a spoiled child, she sighed and tried again. “I would appreciate knowing something about the person who loves me.”

  He paused before continuing. What was she up to now? Was this some sort of trick?

  “What exactly would you like to know?”

  “Uh, I don’t know, anything, I guess. Why don’t you tell me something about college—did you live in the dorms? Take any interesting classes? Have a job?”

  Kasper sighed and recited the information. “When I attended university, I lived outside of the campus and obtained employment as a translator for an investor in the construction business.”

  “Makes sense…”

  “Is that all I can assist you with?”

  “I—” Emilia made a noise she thought was terrible, something between a cough and throat clearing. “I guess I also called to ask you a question.”

  “I’m all ears.” She smiled as she heard the music in the background turned down. “At least one good ear, anyway.”

  “For the gala, are um—I guess, I wanted to ask if you were actually going.”

  She waited, listening to his silence.

  “People will expect to see you there, so I just wanted to make sure you’re going to show up—at least make an appearance. And if you are maybe—ah—”

  “Emilia Ward, are you asking me to be your escort to the gala?”

  “Yeah.” She sighed into the phone. “I suppose I am.”

  He chuckled warmly. “I would be honored. Besides, how could I miss an opportunity to see you in a dress?”

  Emilia scoffed then, making him laugh a little more.

  “A dress… ugh. Another thing I have to do.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “A dress, you know those things that girls wear on formal occasions…”

  “How is that even possible?”

  “I was going to wear a dress Claudette lent me, but that didn’t work out.”

  “Well,” he said, stepping up closer to her. “We shall have to remedy that problem immediately.”

  ***

  Because she didn’t want to create rumors, she convinced him that if he wanted her to meet with him, it would have to be downtown directly instead of having him pick her up at the shelter. Kasper, in truth, was happy to meet her in any respect, and so tried not to feel offended and speculate about why she might not want to have him seen with her in front of her friends—the potential shame his appearance might cause her.

  Instead, he briefly researched the local shopping possibilities before making a few phone calls and setting his vehicle’s GPS by himself. More determined than ever after her little performance, he was even willing to venture out during the daylight hours and risk the possibility of ridicule. After all, if Emilia Ward was willing to both pleasure and torture him, then she must have loved him…

  He noticed her right away fiddling with the parking meter her car was situated next to. Smiling, he made a sharp right into the parking lot of the bank across the street from her, not hesitating to park in one of its employee’s assigned spots. Ticket or tow, he was willing to handle any of the consequences to keep her in sight. As he quickly rounded the corner, she smiled at him. He did not give the potential penalties a second thought.

  “What are we doing here?”

  He smiled as she pulled the straps of her backpack tighter around her shoulders. How did she not have spinal problems with that huge weight on her shoulders?

  “Hello to you, too, Ms. Ward.” Kasper reached for the straps, and despite her eye roll, she allowed him to remove the oversized bag from her back.

  “Hi,” she mimicked, trying not to laugh at the way his shoulder sank with her bag. “Now, what are we doing here?”

  “I thought I made that obvious.”

  “Not really…” She followed him as he began to walk slowly down the sidewalk. “Care to enlighten me now?”

  He stopped in front of the large store window with elaborate cursive writing on the store front. Giving the front door a slight nod, he did a double-take to assure that no one else could see them. This was understandably difficult to do, considering the look of horrific wonder that crossed her face and his urge to watch her lovely expression.

  “You’re kidding me, right?”

  “Let’s discuss this inside.” He opened the door and guided her inside by the small of her back, grateful that she didn’t protest further and expose him to any passing drivers. Yet with only a closed barber shop, a church, and the backend of the bank, there was little traffic to begin with and fewer people to potentially see him.

  They stepped inside of the well-lit dress shop decorated with white flowered wallpaper and a white waiting sofa. No doubt, Kasper considered, for all those invested in the wedding season. Luckily however, the arrangement he had made with the salesgirl behind the counter assured him that they would have privacy so that he could enjoy the experience as much as possible. Sure enough, once they wandered in, the overzealous clerk, clearly excited about the commission coming to her, hurried to lock the door behind them and switch the open sign to closed.

  “Hello there!” she said to Emilia. “Just let me know about anything you like and I’ll grab it for you.”

  “Um…okay.”

  “Are you looking for anything in particular?”

  “I’m not really looking at all.” Glaring over her shoulder at Kasper, she did her best to stare him down and make her discontent known, but if he saw it, he ignored it completely.

  “She is looking for something formal,” Kasper corrected her. “Something suitable for a gala.” Despite the strange look he received from the salesgirl, Kasper relished in Emilia’s obvious anger. After all, the pain of shopping, and her annoyance towards having anything bought on her behalf, was the slightest thing he could do to get even with her for leaving him in the state she did—a cruel torture if there ever was one.

  Narrowing her eyes at him, Emilia walked away and picked up a catalogue from the
counter—eager to get away from the humiliation of her situation. He knew how much she hated having things purchased for her, how it made her feel less independent and indebted. And while she wouldn’t subject him to embarrassment again in front of this girl, Emilia did wish they were alone so she could yell at him properly.

  “Ah—” the salesgirl looked back and forth between them and wrung her hands. “Should I make some suggestions?”

  “Yes,” she replied quickly to get away from him. “Why not?”

  Once they had walked into the back room, he allowed himself to laugh, chuckling softly at her apparent discontent and near unwillingness to participate. But what had she expected after the torture she had subjected him to? Did she really think that he would let her get away with it without reproach? Besides, he mused, this was an opportunity to kill two birds with a single stone, as Kasper meant it when he said he would not miss out on seeing his little peach in a dress, another thing he was almost certain would delightfully infuriate her.

  Emilia emerged a few minutes later with the salesgirl chatting quickly and nervously behind her. Kasper continued to laugh and looked away when he saw how many garment bags the salesgirl had draped over her arm. Ah yes, he thought, this was going to be wonderfully amusing.

  “Why don’t you try this on?” The salesgirl asked, shoving her towards a dressing room. “Oh and this…”

  He continued to chuckle softly while he sat himself in one of the large white chairs, glad that he had a prime view in front of her dressing room. Even if he could only see her bare ankles, he knew it would be a sensual experience. Watching the shadows of her feet while she undressed had a great deal of potential all by itself, and he suddenly wondered if the stereotype of American men disliking the participation in this activity could possibly be true. They didn’t know what they were missing!

  Clearly feeling awkward without Emilia, the salesgirl draped the dresses over the door of the dressing room before excusing herself and retreating to someplace unknown.

  Inside the dressing room however, Emilia swore and pulled her sneakers from her feet. She knew she had to look at the practicalities of the situation, no matter how annoying they were. Yes, she did need something to wear to the gala, but she was thinking more along the lines of a discount sales rack at a department store—something respectable but cheap. What would it mean if she accepted something like a dress from Kasper? Sure, she knew he could afford it, but hadn’t she already taken enough advantage of his generosity as it was? And besides, didn’t he hate frivolous purchases? What could be more frivolous than this?