by Alexis Gold
His hands moved over her thin dress and cupped her breasts, and he felt her nipples harden beneath his palms and fingertips and he groaned in need. He moved her to the bed and slid his hands up underneath her dress, moving his fingers between her thighs to touch her, to feel the moistness between her legs. She cried out softly as he massaged his fingertips over her and slid them into her while his mouth moved over her neck and lips, and she came in moments at his touch.
"Once more. I have to have you one more time," he insisted, pulling her dress from her body and pushing his clothes off him to the floor. He laid her back on the bed and made no pretenses, no flirtatious foreplay, he only spread her thighs apart swiftly and thrust himself into her. She clung to his shoulders and buried her face in his neck, kissing his chest. Then she threw her head back as he took over the deepest parts of her, driving her to ecstasy again and again, while his mouth sucked hungrily at her breasts and her tongue.
He took all of her that he could take until he was spent, and everything in him flowed into her, warming her, connecting them, making them one, one more time, before he kissed her softly and pulled himself from her, rising up above her to dress himself again. He lifted her carefully to her feet and kissed her sweetly on her mouth.
'There has never, ever, been anyone like you in my life, and I know we didn't have much time together, but I am so glad that we shared what we did have. You have given me more than you will ever know," he whispered, and she kissed him again, unable to speak. She pulled on her dress and he turned away from her, unwilling to watch her cover her body and get ready to leave him.
She hugged him from the back, circling her hands around his waist, and he turned in her arms and kissed her hungrily once more, drinking in her kiss like it was oxygen, and then he let her go. They wandered to the landing in their own separate ways when they docked, and they looked at each other and waved goodbye amidst the other guests who were oblivious to them, all waving and chattering as Cami and Roman stood watching each other silently.
Their eternal moment was broken by Allen, who came rushing up to Roman and begged in a hoarse whisper, "Get in the car, get in the car, get in the car!" He pushed Roman toward their limo. "Hurrry! Go faster! Go!" Just as they were climbing in, he heard Colette calling for her poopsie, almost yodeling up the hill to him, waving her arms and dashing after him.
The driver closed the door and Allen sank down to the floor and looked up miserably at Roman, whispering, "Is she gone? Are we going yet?"
Roman shook his head and looked out the window. "Just another minute."
The car pulled away and he watched Cami climb inside her limo. She turned just then, and looked toward his car. He didn't think she could see him through the dark glass, but he felt as if their eyes had met one last time, and he wished her every good thing in the world, for the rest of her life, and then she was out of sight, and the limo was rolling down the road.
"You can get up now,” he said, looking down at Allen.
Allen slowly clambered up onto his seat and slouched into the deep cushion.
"You would not believe what I went through this weekend." he sighed loudly.
"Oh, do tell." Roman laughed at him. "Wait... on second thought, I don't think I want to know." He reached over and clapped his hand down on Allen's knee. "At least you made it out alive, buddy. That's saying something. Most of her ex-husbands fall off the edge of the earth and no one ever hears from them again."
"Lucky bastards," groaned Allen.
Roman poured them both a drink and as Allen nursed his carefully, Roman stared out the window and watched his life come back into focus. By the time they reached San Francisco, he was almost sure that it had been a dream, and he would have been positive about that, had it not been for the thin silver bracelet around his wrist.
Chapter 2
Roman sat at his desk, reviewing the specs on a new yacht that a German manufacturer wanted him to buy, when the phone rang.
Janine's voice came over the intercom. "Roman, it's that cute little sales Captain from the Netherlands; you know, the one in Europe."
"Yes, thank you, Janine. Put him through." Roman smiled. Janine was from the Bronx. She dressed like it, she spoke like it, she looked and acted like it, and it was one of the reasons he hired her. No one got to him unless they got through her first, and that was a chore.
"This is Roman," he answered his phone when it rang.
"Hello Roman! This is Jonathon Heatherwick. How are you doing?" he asked in his jovial voice.
Roman grinned and leaned back in his chair. "Well hello, Captain! How are you doing this fine day?"
"I'm wonderful, thank you, but my, it's been so long since I saw you, when was the last visit we had?" the old captain asked, reminiscing.
Roman knew right away when the last visit was. He touched his wrist where the silver bracelet used to rest, until he took it off six months after the day he'd bought it. It hurt his heart too much to wear it, and Denise hated it. She constantly made ugly remarks about it to him, and he couldn't bear to listen to her any longer, so he took it off and hid it in a special box in his closet.
"It was a year ago, good Captain,” he said solemnly. His mind flashed back to memories of her in his head. Memories that he only let filter through his thoughts once in a while, like sunlight on a foggy cloudy day, but those days were very few and far between. He focused on his business all of the time, and tried to keep up with his wife, and that was all.
"A year? Well that's too long. Listen, I have a new boat, and I want you to get the first crack at it. I'm going to bring it to you in San Francisco." Jonathon bubbled through the phone and Roman could hear the smile he knew the Captain was wearing.
"Well, if you're coming over here, please stay with me, I have tons of room in my house, and you're more than welcome to be my guest. I'd love to have you." Roman was glad to think of his old friend coming to the city.
Jonathon paused. "You still married to that woman?"
Roman blinked. "Denise? Yes." Jonathon had met her twice, and both times she had treated him like a barnacle on the bottom of a boat.
"Oh, well, uh.... I think I'll stay on the yacht. Thanks though, but it's a real dandy of a boat and I wouldn't want to trouble you at home." Jonathon stumbled through a declination.
Roman chuckled a little. "Maybe I'll come stay on the boat with you while you're here."
Jonathon let loose a long belly laugh, and said, "Son, you'd be welcome to. You come anytime you like, yes sir, you come alone any time you feel like it."
It was Roman's turn to let out a good laugh and he shook his head. "Alright, well, you let me know when you'll be here."
"I should arrive a week from Wednesday," Jonathon answered.
"Very good, I'll have a berth ready for you at my marina. It'll be good to see you again, Captain." Roman laughed again and hung up the phone.
He pressed the intercom. "Janine?"
She answered him back, "Yes?"
"Would you please make sure there's a berth ready at the marina for Captain Heatherwick when he arrives next Wednesday?"
"I already did it. I'm way ahead of you." She laughed at him and he smiled and shook his head.
"That's why you're working here, Janine. I couldn't run such a tight ship without you."
Roman hung up and his thoughts tried to take him to that dream weekend a year ago, but he shook his head and pushed the thoughts from his mind. He never allowed himself the freedom to really think about her or what happened between them, he just pushed it to a corner of his mind and told himself that it was a beautiful dream he'd had.
Denise was still as she had been with him, and except for the weekend with Cami, he had not had a woman in his bed, any woman, in four years. He took a deep breath and sighed, letting it out and letting it go, and then he went back to work.
A short time later, Allen came rushing into his office from down the hall. "I've got great news!" he said happily, sitting at Roman's desk.
&nbs
p; Roman looked up from his computer. "Yeah? What's that?" he asked with high hopes.
Allen leaned forward in his chair. "Well, I just got off the phone with the Senator-"
Janine buzzed in and said with a disapproving tone, "'The Wife' is here."
Roman looked from Allen who seemed as though he might burst, to his telephone. "Well, I'm in a meeting, she'll have to-"
"I'd be glad to stop her for you, Mistah Bruce, but you have to promise me that you won't have me arrested if I do," Janine said loudly over the intercom.
The door of his office was flung open for the second time in about three minutes and a tall, leggy redhead with an extremely voluptuous and expensive body, sashayed through the door.
"I do not have to wait. I never have to wait. I'm your wife,” she purred with narrowed eyes, glaring at him.
"Ya know, if you wore bells on ya hips, you'd be your own brass band when you walked. Maybe then you could make ya own money," Janine snapped at Denise as she closed Roman's office door.
Allen almost choked trying to hold back his laugh and Roman just shook his head and looked up at Denise.
She was wearing a thin little royal blue, satin dress that was too tight to really fit her; it was extremely low cut over her enormous chest, and high cut over her knees so that when she sat, the edge of her thigh-high stockings peaked out of the slit up the dress on the side of her leg. Her red hair was piled in a messy bun at the back of her head, and her makeup was on a little thicker than usual. She must be trying to impress someone, he thought.
"Why are you here?" Roman asked his wife, leaning back in his chair.
She shifted her shoulders haughtily. "Well, I have some important news that we need to talk about." She looked down her nose at Allen. "So you can leave and go back to your hole."
Allen grew defensive, which he rarely did with Denise. "Listen, you aren't the only one with big news, and I happen to be in a meeting with Roman right now, an important meeting which you just interrupted!"
Denise turned her narrow gaze to her husband. "Roman, kick him out. Now."
Roman furrowed his brow at her. "I'm not kicking him out. We were in the middle of a meeting!"
She sat forward in her chair and bounced her breasts up as she arranged herself for better posture. "Well, this is more important."
Roman sighed and covered his eyes with his hand. Then he lowered his hand and shook his head at Allen, who was desperate to share his news with Roman.
"Alright, Denise. What's so important?" Roman sighed and looked at her with tired eyes.
"Well!" she exclaimed importantly. "I was at the yacht club for lunch today; did you know they're serving that escargot again? Who the hell wants to eat snails? I told them they have to stop serving it, but they are ignoring me again. I told them if they didn't listen to me, I'd have you fire them."
Roman leaned forward in his chair and looked at his wife with a dangerous expression. "You came in here and interrupted me to tell me about escargot?"
She waved her hand at him and shook her head, making her red curls swing around.
"No, no, no. That's just one of the things. Let me finish! So anyway, I want the escargot taken off the menu, permanently. The other thing is that I was sitting in the sauna with Cressida Halston and Bethany Woodrow, you know they're from-"
In a rare moment of frustration, Roman lost his patience. "Why are you here?!" he demanded. He had been put on edge a bit from his morning's memories, and his wife was no help, whatsoever.
She glared at him. "How dare you talk to me like that! Who do you think you're talking to?" She began to stand up and her breasts almost fell out of the front of her dress. "I won't put up with anyone talking to me like that!"
"Denise!" Roman almost shouted.
She sat down in a huff and shrugged her shoulders. "Well, I only wanted to tell you that girls at the club told me that they heard from Carmen Johnson, who is Senator Edward Johnson's wife, that he wants to buy a yacht from you."
Allen snapped his head in Denise's direction, and his jaw fell open in shock, and then he bit it shut again in anger.
Roman saw it and he turned his attention to Allen. "What was it that you were so excited to tell me?"
Allen gritted his teeth. "I just got off the phone with the Senator and he wants to buy a boat from us."
"Great work, Allen, I appreciate all that you're doing to make that happen." Roman smiled at him apologetically.
Denise shook her head. "Oh no... we're not leaving it up to him to make it happen. I'm not letting a chance like this go! Do you know how good it would be for us to be associated with the Senator and his wife? Carmen is a goddess in the social circles of this state! Granted, she had humble beginnings-"
Roman sighed and looked at her with decreasing patience. "She was his nanny."
Denise continued as if he hadn't spoken. "-but now she's really shown herself to be a woman of style and power, and I need to do everything I can to make this sale happen so we can get to know them and be friends with them. Can you imagine the look on Muriel Barnaby's face when she finds out that the Senator and his wife are our best friends? Ah! She'll be jade green with envy. I can't wait!"
Denise turned and glared at Allen. "We can't afford to screw this up, so we can't leave it in the hands of the hired help."
Allen’s eyes narrowed into thin slits.
Denise looked right at Roman. "We have to find a yacht for them right away-"
Roman leaned back in his chair again. "I already have one on the way."
Denise lowered her gaze at Roman for just a moment and continued, "Anyway, we need a yacht for them as soon as possible. When will this new one be coming?"
"Wednesday," Roman said, watching her with increasing irritation.
"Good! That's going to give me just enough time to put together a big party for the Senator and Carmen. If the boat gets here Wednesday, then we'll set the party for Friday, and I'll make sure to invite all the right people, and all the right press. We’ll have our photos in the paper on the society page, and we'll become best friends with the Johnsons.” She was practically glowing pink with her excitement, until she glared at both Roman and Allen.
"Don't do anything to screw this up or I'll never forgive you." She stood up and walked toward the door, swaying her hips from side to side and as she did so, Roman thought of Janine's snarky comment and had to raise his finger over his lips to hide the laugh that threatened to emerge. She turned dramatically at the door and looked back at Roman.
"So, next Friday, party on the new yacht, no other plans that day, and get a decent suit, you look like hell all the time now." Then she turned and walked out of Roman's office, leaving the door wide open.
"Don't let that front door hit you on the ass when you leave, Denise, I don't want the front door dented!" Janine called out to her, and Roman enjoyed the chuckle and closed his office door.
He walked to his desk and sat down with a sigh, looking at Allen. "I'm very sorry about her."
"I know," Allen said, standing up and walking to the door. "Me, too."
"Good job with the Senator, Allen," Roman said with a smile. "I'm really proud of you."
Allen nodded with a smile and walked out of Roman's office, closing the door behind him.
Janine walked in a few minutes later and handed him the mail for the day. Roman looked up at her. She was short and stout, she had dark hair that was turning silver at the temples, and she had a cute face, which belied the sassy attitude underneath.
"Janine..." Roman said quietly. She turned to look at him.
"Yes?" she answered.
"Why do you call her 'The Wife'?" he asked, almost not wanting to know but still morbidly curious.
Janine smirked. "I could call her something else. I have a long list of things I call her that I usually speak sotto voce. I could raise the volume of my voice when I use those names."
Roman chuckled and shook his head. "No, that's alright. As you were."
She no
dded and walked to his door and then turned and looked at him. "I call her that only out of respect for you. She doesn't deserve that title."
Roman stared at Janine, and she turned and walked out of the door, closing it behind
her. He shook his head and went back to work.
The week passed and he hardly saw Denise; she was in a frenzy of activity, rushing about and getting ready for her big socialite party aboard the new yacht, which looked to be fancier than any yacht he had ever purchased before. The Captain had sent him the specs, and this one was grander, as well as being ecologically sound. That was one of Allen's major selling points to the Senator. It was green, and this Senator was the walking, breathing definition of green.
