Purely Relative (The P.U.R.E.)

by Claire Gillian

  “Well, thank goodness that’s finally over!” Sophia said. As Jenny returned to her seat, her face flushed with emotion, Sophia slammed both fists on the table. “I never liked that guy! I’m sorry, Jenny, but I can’t hold it in any longer.”

  Jenny’s mouth fell open. “What? You didn’t?”

  Sophia shook her head. Alex shook his. Jack did the same, followed by Julie and Thalia.

  “Scott was a dick,” Jason said.

  Only Jon held his tongue, but I already knew he thought along the same lines.

  Jenny blinked a few times, before retaking her seat with Ian trailing closely behind. “What was all the earlier crucifixion about then?”

  Sophia shrugged. Jon’s mother sighed and his father grumbled and said, “We may not have been all that fond of Scott, but we still think you handled this very badly, Jenny. It was badly done indeed.”

  “Wow, okay. Maybe I didn’t handle the breakup all that well,” she said. “But I wish someone might have mentioned what they thought about Scott a few years ago.”

  Tully burst from her chair. She cleared her throat and stared at Jason for a few heartbeats. “I love you, Jason. I’ve always loved you, but I can’t stand to see you with anyone else, especially with someone like her. I can’t take it anymore.” Tully’s voice cracked, and she started to cry. “I kept thinking, ‘One day he’ll see how perfect we would be together. Be patient, Tully.’ Sitting here listening to Jenny, I realize I’ve been waiting more than five years for that to happen … only … it’s not going to. It’s never going to happen. I finally get it. The truth has finally sunk in through my thick skull.” She slapped both palms against her temples. “So, I’m not going to waste even a second more of my life wishing and praying and dreaming for what I can’t have.” She turned to leave, nearly tripping over her chair, but caught herself. Despite her red-rimmed eyes and running nose, she walked to Julie, and with the dignity of Grace Kelly said, “I’m sorry for making a scene, but if you’ll please excuse me, I think I’ll go home now.” She continued her trek straight out of the dining room. We heard the front door shut behind her with nary a hint of Scott’s theatrics.

  All eyes shifted to Jason, who stared into the blank space in front of him, mouth a firm line, until he abruptly pushed back, and without a word to anyone, sprinted after Tully.

  Kat sniffed and grabbed her purse. She said nothing to her hosts, but walked out in Jason’s wake, slamming the front door behind her.

  “I didn’t like her either,” Sophia said.

  Chapter 8

  Back at my apartment, Jon and I kicked off our shoes and collapsed on the sofa.

  Jon rubbed the nape of my neck, his strong fingers a perfect blend of sensuous and therapeutic. “You survived round two. I’m so sorry though. We aren’t usually so theatrical.”

  I smiled and leaned into his touch. “It’s okay. In a way it’s nice to see a family dynamic that’s so ... normal, not fake or put on for the benefit of visitors.”

  Jon laughed. “That definitely was not our finest hour, but you’re right. No one hid behind a mask.”

  “What do you think happened with Jason and Tully and Kat?” That lovely triangle had me intrigued. Part of me hoped Tully won her man, but I feared she had perhaps missed the Jason boat long ago. If Jason couldn’t see her by now, he might never value her the way she needed. I admired Tully for taking a stand and declaring herself, but the knot in my stomach told me she had said too much, too late.

  “Jason’s an idiot. If he loses his friendship with Tully, he’ll really regret it.”

  “Maybe that needs to happen so he can get a glimpse of how his life will be without her. Kind of like It’s a Wonderful Life.” I nestled in close to Jon, my ear against his chest, listening to the steady thumping of his heart.

  “Maybe.” Lips pressed against my head and Jon’s fingers entwined in my hair.

  We sat quietly curled together, neither of us speaking for quite some time.

  “I love you, Gayle. Please don’t be scared off by my crazy family.”

  I wrapped my arms around him, pulling in even closer. “They weren’t so bad. Even Sophia, who seemed determined to put me in my place on Thanksgiving, somewhat redeemed herself.”

  “She’s definitely one of a kind.” Jon’s deep voice rumbled against my ear as he spoke, a soothing vibration. “Speaks her mind. Only problem is her mind is never constant.”

  “Yeah. I kind of felt sorry for Scott though,” I said.

  “Really? Why?” Wispy puffs of air caressed my skin. The lingering aromas of ham and homemade yeast rolls combined with Jon’s own scent made a tantalizing amalgam, one that softened and warmed me. He nuzzled the crook of my neck, placing soft kisses in a small circle. Guh....

  “Mmm, what?” Tingles blanked out all my thoughts. I didn’t want to talk any more. I only wanted to feel. Body trumped mind, having taken a backseat long enough during the hours we spent at the Cripps.

  “Never mind,” Jon whispered, moving his lips up my neck to my jaw. When he reached an awkward point, he shifted me onto his lap and kissed me on the lips. The heat of his mouth on mine, the unabashed sighs of escalating desire as he shifted his head to take more of what I offered—I sank into everything that was Jon. “I love you in my arms like this, so responsive and all mine.”

  “You make it impossible to be otherwise.” I kissed him, sealing in whatever his next words were.

  We stayed that way for what seemed like forever, touching and kissing, until our frustration over the inability to move any closer while fully clothed and on my sofa finally compelled Jon to shift me off his lap. He stood and pulled me up with him, then against him. Being so much shorter, I could easily feel the full force of his arousal pressed against my belly. A new surge of liquid heat raced south of my navel.

  “You smell good enough to eat.” Jon’s hands slid low enough to cup and squeeze my butt, lifting and rubbing me against his erection. “I can’t tell you how turned on I am when you get this way, all ready for me to make love to you. It’s intoxicating, addictive.” He sucked in a deep breath of air and held it in his lungs before slowly expelling it.

  I pulled out of his embrace and took his hand, pulling him behind me into my bedroom. Jon pushed the door shut behind him and took over the steering, leading me straight to my bed. We toppled over, Jon’s weight pressing me into the mattress as he took my mouth and renewed his seduction. Fingertips lightly skimmed from my neck down over my breasts to my waist, where he found the bottom of my sweater and slipped beneath.

  “Beautiful,” he said, as his fingers blazed a reverse trail back up my skin to my breasts. A flick of those same clever fingers and he’d unfastened my bra. How he knew I’d worn a front-hooking bra instead of back-hooking one spoke either to his luck or more likely, his keen powers of observation in all matters sexy.

  I moaned as his hand curled around my breast and he shifted downward to kiss and suck on the nipple through my sweater. His hot mouth ignited my already super-heated body into an inferno of need so intense, I hurt and longed to strip off the sweater.

  As if he read my mind, he said, “Off,” and shifted his weight so together we could peel me out of the offending article of clothing.

  “You too,” I said, tugging up his long-sleeved polo shirt over some crazy sculpted abs and pecs. A new rush of desire joined in the rally, flooding me with a pulsing, aching emptiness only Jon could soothe. My hips moved in a shameless, undulating rhythm watching Jon strip off not only his shirt but his pants and underwear too.

  “Now you,” he rasped, unbuttoning my jeans. He chased the zipper with his lips and tongue against my skin, as he continued his downward motion to draw off my pants and panties.

  In a moment of clarity, I tossed the bra then reached for his head. I knew he wanted to continue to pleasure me with his mouth, but I needed a much more intimate part of him. “Come here.” I pulled on his ears to urge him upward.

  Skin to skin, we rocked against eac
h other, our hips moving together in an erotic hula of temptation. Jon kissed me deeply, plundering my mouth with his tongue in mimicry of what had become nearly a frantic a need in other parts.

  “Oh my God, I can’t stand this anymore. Hurry up and take me!” Only I didn’t say it quite that plainly, but instead used words and phrases that would have made a pimp applaud.

  Jon snickered, but did as he was told. Though he pretended to give in to my whore-like begging with a mock sigh, I knew he wouldn’t have lasted much longer either. He wasn’t the superman he always wanted me to think he was, though he came pretty close.

  Our eyes met and locked. His body tuned in perfectly to mine, heat seeking heat, hard seeking soft, male seeking female, and we merged. I moaned through every shivery inch of his tantalizingly slow penetration, and he did the same, like slipping into a hot bath after a grueling day at the office or an exhausting gym workout. Jon created an oasis of mind-numbing pleasure.

  Hips, thoroughly warmed up and rehearsed for the main act, took over. Jon pushed deep inside me as I raised up to meet him. He moved at first with the languid, syrupy slow speed of a man revving against his own brakes, all that power roaring to be released. With measured strokes, he moved. Slow thrusts that teased and tormented until I was nearly ready to scream.

  He must have sensed when I’d reached the ends of my patience for he quickened his pace. His breathing sped up and grew louder near my ear where he’d buried his face in my hair. “Gayle,” he growled. His thrusts grew more powerful until I lost my powers of observation.

  My body coiled in tightly, all the sexual tension Jon had wrought into every muscle, every tendon, organized for what promised to be the mother of all O’s. Closer and closer I inched to my release. Jon was caught up in his own maelstrom of animal-like yearning to achieve climax. My “yes, yes, yes’s” might have had something to do with it, too.

  We strained and drove and clenched and thrust until I unraveled in an explosion of muscular energy. My mouth locked open in a silent scream as Jon pulled more and more involuntary contractions from me, powerful tides of erotic sensations that in return ripped from him what he’d ripped from me.

  He kissed away the last of my whimpers, moving his hips for a few final thrusts. The last of the delicious shudders, his and mine, waning until all that was left was our gasping, our sweat-slickened skin, and our racing hearts.

  Jon rolled off me and we lay there, side by side holding hands, our breathing finally starting to slow. “Wow,” he said.

  “Wow, yourself. I feel like I should bow down and worship at the temple of your masculinity.”

  The mattress moved with Jon, who chuckled as he grabbed a handful of Kleenex. Too sated to move a muscle, I relaxed into the touch of the tissues against my sex. Jon took his time cleaning me up, a deeply intimate act that reached inside and squeezed my heart. The deed done, he collected me close to his body and curled around me, breathing me in as I did the same to him.

  “I love you, Jon,” I said, right before sleep sucked me into oblivion. If he answered me, I didn’t hear him.

  ***

  We awoke naked and tangled in each other and after sharing some rather energetic and creative “good mornings,” we headed to the shower.

  Jon finished first and stepped out to give me more space to condition my hair and shave my legs and other parts. When I pushed back the shower curtain, dripping wet like a bedraggled rat, I found him equally naked, but dry. One knee kissed the floor, the other formed a right angle.

  Oh my God! He’s down on one knee! He’s going to propose! My inner girly-girl ran around in a circle shrieking and waving her hands.

  “Damn, slippery floor,” he said, climbing to his feet.

  “Oh! Are you okay?” I asked. My voice fell flat as the bottom dropped out. My inner girl tumbled into the chasm of ridiculous hopes that weren’t really hopes, but more like fantasies, and not the least bit realistic and therefore not the type of thoughts a modern woman like me ought to be having. And yet, that girl had caught a branch sticking out of the side of the cliff and insisted on seeing how it might have played out. In my imagination it went something like…

  “Gayle,” he would begin. “I love you with every ... no, sorry, that’s lame....” He would swallow and his Adam’s apple would disappear into his jaw before falling back down, like one of those carnival games where you have to ring the bell by hitting a catapult hard enough with a hammer. “I’ve always known, always believed, always hoped, you would marry me. I told you that first night we made love. I meant it then. I mean it now. Please make me the happiest man in the world by agreeing to marry me. I’ll take care of you. You won’t have to look for another job. We’ll buy a house. You can have a baby or two or three, make me dinner every night, something complicated with exotic ingredients, and when I come home yelling ‘honey, I’m home,’ our pudgy kids that look exactly like you will come running out of their rooms covered in grime and fighting because you’ve gained 200 pounds and live on the sofa watching bad reality television and are too tired to discipline them and thank goodness I’m getting some action on the side from Thalia because a man like me has needs and—”

  “Earth to Gayle!”

  I snapped out of my nightmare.

  Jon handed me a black square, not a ring box. “Here, I got you a fresh one because I nabbed yours.” He wasn’t offering his heart in exchange for the one he’d stolen from me. He was offering an Egyptian cotton towel, folded neatly into fourths.

  “I....” I barely squeaked that out.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take yours. Here,” he took back the towel, shook it out, and wrapped it around me, gingerly drying my face with the corners. When he was done, he pulled me into his arms, a frown on his face. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

  I shook my head and finally found my voice albeit a pale version. “Nothing important.”

  “Well something’s got you on edge. I hope my family hasn’t upset you.”

  He was being so sweet, so wonderful, and here I was unable to tell him how distressing it was to not know if you were happy or sad your boyfriend was not, in fact, on bended knee asking for your hand. The cold reality was I was on my own, adrift in a strange city with meager savings and no job. I couldn’t look to a man to bail me out of my problems. I never had before and I wasn’t going to start now. I needed to get it together.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just … I’m scared.”

  He kissed my forehead then lowered his eyes to meet mine. “You? Scared?” He shook his head. “You are one of the bravest women I’ve ever known.”

  I filled my lungs with the steamy bathroom air and slowly released it to rein in my tears. “I don’t want to live in my car in the ghetto.”

  A laugh burst out of him. “Why would you live in your car and why the ghetto, for God’s sake?” He smiled ruefully at me before kissing my lips. “Oh. This is about being out of work, right?”

  “I guess. There’s a gushing stream of Anderson Blakely CPAs hitting the street now, nearly all of whom have more experience than me. Who are the other firms going to hire? A seasoned staff person or a whistle-blowing menace who doesn’t know the first thing about corporate politics?” A final half laugh, half-choking cough emerged from me as I expelled the last of my barriers. We both laughed together, but I could see the tension in the lines around his eyes, in the tightness of his jaw. Jon held his cards close to the vest but the longer I knew him, the more of his tells I deciphered. Something was bothering him too.

  Chapter 9

  On Monday, my first interview turned out to be a bust. I could tell in those first few critical seconds. The manager had barely read my resume, barely knew anything about me and worst, had no interest in allowing me to educate him. I spent the afternoon researching the other firms in town. Jon was already on a new assignment, though I could tell he hated it.

  He came over at seven, having finished his surveillance at six-thirty.

  “How’d the inter
view go,” he asked after collapsing on my sofa and pulling me onto his lap.

  “Terrible. I predict a form rejection letter by Friday, if they even bother to send me one.” I nestled in and rested my head on his shoulder. He was rapidly turning into my favorite chair.

  “That’s too bad. Their loss. That was Minderman?” His rich voice soothed me like a semi-melty chocolate bar.

  “Yeah. I’ve got an appointment at a temp agency tomorrow.”

  “Mm.” His unspoken message was he didn’t approve of temping, thought it was beneath me. We’d discussed the matter before, only he came from money and had no idea what it was like not having any. I doubt he lived off ramen noodles and pot pies while in college. Yours truly did, and was still paying off the student loans that helped finance them.

  “How did your surveillance go today?” Even though he wasn’t keen on being a field agent, I always found his stories fascinating. I could people-watch for hours and never get bored. Jon would rather tap away at his smart phone trying to hack into someone’s records. Officially he wasn’t allowed to do that, of course, but—

  “Dull. Nothing unusual happened. Nothing happened at all, as a matter of fact. I think they’re all still away on vacation. Found the call I wanted though. Only had to go back three months. Too bad it didn’t pan out. Disconnected. I know there’s something there that I haven’t figured out yet.”

  “Are you hungry?” I had saved him some of my dinner just in case.

  “Nah. Thanks. I can’t stay though,” he said. He toyed with one of my curls as he spoke. “I have to fly to DC in the morning. Last minute ... uh, thing.”

  I pulled back and scanned his face. “DC? Why?”

  “Oh, it’s a special ... uh, training class they scheduled and forgot to tell me about.” His eyes shot up to my temple, his fingers following to touch the same lock of hair that fell in my face.

  Something was off. “How long will you be gone?”

  “Three days.” He bit his lip and watched me as if waiting for me to challenge him. What wasn’t he telling me and did I dare challenge him?