The Story of Lansing Lotte

by L. B. Dunbar

  “How could I resist? You were bared to me. A tempting distraction.”

  My shoulders slumped. Distraction? I didn’t want to be his damn distraction. I fell to my knees before him and stroked my hands up his thighs.

  “What are you doing, you vixen?” The pleasure was in his voice, despite what he had just said. He did want me to touch him, to please him.

  My fingers wrapped around him and he grew firmer in my grasp. Within seconds he was as hard as he had been when I tried to straddle him and I licked up his length. He flinched as his hands softly petted back my hair.

  “What are you doing?” he asked again, knowing full well what I intended. I took him into my mouth, slipping my lips around him in full suction and pulled back to the tip.

  “Ah,” he groaned and he slipped his fingers into my hair. I repeated the motion and felt his hand move to the back of my neck. I repeated the motion again and he was the counterforce to me. I teased and sucked as he tried to resist.

  “Lila, it’s gonna be huge. You need to st…aahhh…” he burst into my throat as I took him all the way. Swallowing hard, he pulsed inside my throat and I lapped him up with a final lick as he had done to me.

  If death by desire were possible; Lila just committed it. We hadn’t even had sex and she was killing me. First seeing her naked, spread out in the water. Then, letting me climb into the tub and feel her. She was so responsive to my touch. It was flint to a rock. We struck and she sparked. Once I had her, I was confident I could do it again. She wanted it again, and to be gluttonous on her was my desire. I feasted like I’d never done before. I couldn’t get enough of her. Even then, I wanted her another way, but sex might be pushing it. Lila didn’t trust me, and I knew it.

  The surprise on her face and the tone of her voice when she asked me about everyone gave away her fear. She was worried I was with someone else. I wanted to reassure her I wasn’t. I hadn’t seen Guinie. Kaye felt it best that Guinevere not know until we had something to tell. After her explosion with me the last time I told her anything related to Arturo, I agreed it was best to wait. Not because I feared that Guinie would fall apart or that she would fall into me again. I feared, more so, the return of Arturo to find I had already taken Guinie.

  I pushed those thoughts aside as Lila reentered her bedroom. She had slipped on another one of those silky nighties she liked. It would take all my strength to sleep next to her another night and not enter her. I wanted her. I wanted to feel connected to her. Something happened before she took me in her mouth. Fuck, that mouth. She shut down and then a determination relit the fuse for her. She worked me like I’d never been worked before. It had been a while since I’d had the pleasure of a mouth on me like that. Even longer since I enjoyed it as much. Lila Lovelourne’s mouth was something I was never going to grow tired of, but I had to remain calm.

  My dick had other plans though as she climbed into bed, placing her back to me again. I tugged her into the cocoon like I had the night before. She was spent and I kissed her shoulder.

  “Tired, Lila?”

  “My body is, but my mind is racing,” she said.

  “Where’s it running to?”

  “Places I don’t want to go, right now.”

  I kissed her neck, then rubbed my nose over her skin.

  “Then don’t go there. Stay right here. With me.”

  She shook her head without responding.

  “Stay with me,” I whispered, but Lila had slipped into sleep.

  I truly expected him to be gone in the morning, so I wasn’t surprised to find the bed empty. Instead, I was surprised to find him in the kitchen with Fleur. They were trying to make pancakes and it was a mess of bowls and batter dribbled to the grill pan.

  “What’s going on in here?” I smiled slowly.

  “Good morning,” Lansing threw over his shoulder.

  “Good morning,” Fleur said through the largest smile I’d ever seen.

  “What are you two up to?” I laughed.

  “Breakfast in bed. Go back to bed,” she giggled.

  “What?” I laughed again.

  “We don’t have a table so we were going to bring you breakfast in bed,” Fleur said again, a sound of determination in her voice. She looked up at Lansing who looked down at her and winked.

  My heart leapt and sank. He was adorable with her, which was something I wouldn’t have expected from the exterior look of him, but I was concerned that Fleur was a bit too attached to Mr. Lansing. That was dangerous for both our fragile hearts. I continued to stare after them when Lansing started to hum. It reminded me of the way we danced in his apartment weeks back, and it triggered a memory from last night.

  He asked me to stay with him, and then he fell quietly into one of The Nights’ songs.

  Stay with me, last the night

  I’ll be your everything, by your side

  Hold the course, hold me tight

  Stay with me, we’ll last the night.

  I blinked when I noticed Lansing was staring at me. He slowly smiled that crooked smile that showed his dimples. I could understand why women dropped their panties easily for him. With just a look I was ready to drop mine again.

  “Can I see you for a second?” he asked, as he nodded toward my room.

  I followed again like that robot fulfilling commands, but there was no lack of emotion to the searing kiss he placed on me as we entered my bedroom. I had barely made it through the door when he had me pinned against the wall in a full body press, taking my lips in a way that ignited the flames low in my stomach. I yearned for him.

  “Good morning,” he whispered against my lips briefly, before he began his tender breakfast of my mouth.

  “What about breakfast?” I mumbled against his lips.

  “You taste better than anything,” he said as he pulled away. He smiled down at me and kissed my forehead before walking away, as if he’d done nothing to me. As if he hadn’t just sparked my desire for him. I needed a cold shower.

  I reentered the kitchen to find that the first round of pancakes were finished and Fleur was ready for the sample.

  “Perfect,” she said with a thumbs-up to Lansing. He nodded with a laugh as he made a second pour onto the flat top pan.

  “What’s the plan today?” he asked me.

  “I need to run some errands. I have one more gift to get and I need some ornaments for my lovely tree.”

  Lansing looked over his shoulder at the large tree in the corner, covered in lights. The open floor plan of my place allowed him to see from kitchen stove to the front windows. My apartment was much smaller than his, but looked larger with its emptiness.

  A pained look crossed his face before he turned to me.

  “I find I’m always apologizing to you, but I have to say it again. I’m sorry I ran off last night.”

  The mood was shifting between us suddenly, as my fears that he had been with Guinie assaulted me. If I truly believed it, I wouldn’t have let him take advantage of my vulnerability last night. I was naked and trapped in the tub, but I also had concerns that he did just see me as a distraction, a way to rid his mind of thoughts of Guinie. It made me feel a bit sick to my stomach that I was falling for him.

  “I understand,” I said, not lying, but not exactly telling the truth. I wanted to understand. I did in some ways. He was concerned about Arturo and I had delivered valuable news, without even knowing it. I honestly hadn’t put the idea of the old man and the chase photos together until the moment Lansing and I were talking. I was sure that finding another clue to where Arturo might be was exciting and nerve-racking at the same time.

  “Did what I told you help?” I asked, as I sipped orange juice.

  “Kaye is still looking into it today. The hospital couldn’t tell us anything last night. An on-call nurse answered, but Kaye said he needed an administrator to get the information we wanted.”

  I nodded, again pretending I understood. I questioned Arturo’s motives without even knowing him. On the other hand,
I assumed he must have good reason to stay away from his band, his friends, and his lover. Not the least of which might be he thought his lover was with one of his friends. It might have been an innocent coffee shop meeting, as Lansing had tried to explain to me, but if I knew Lansing and Guinie, even one-tenth of how Arturo must know them, I wouldn’t have believed it. Judging by the expression on Arturo’s face, I don’t think he thought it was innocent either.

  “I need to go shopping today, also,” Lansing said. “And I’d like to take Fleur with me, if that’s okay with you.” His voice showed his hesitation in asking. I might not have trusted Lansing with my emotions, but I trusted him with Fleur, regardless of thinking it was a strange request.

  In my haste, I stumbled out of the art shop and into another shopper. I fumbled with the awkward shaped package and looked up in time to see Guinevere DeGrance, trying to help me balance everything.

  “Lila?” she questioned.

  “Guinevere.” My voice raised an octave in my surprise.

  That’s where the conversation ended for me. I was prepared to wish her “Merry Christmas” and continue walking when she stopped me with a hand on my arm.

  “Do you have a minute?” she asked quietly.

  I juggled the item in my hand and nodded.

  “I feel like I should explain some things,” Guinie began.

  “Oh, you don’t…”

  “I think we got off on the wrong foot, and there may be some misunderstanding.”

  I didn’t respond.

  “What you saw…”

  “Lansing told me. The truth.”

  I narrowed my eyes at Guinie. I felt sorry for her on many levels, but I wasn’t going to let her lie to me.

  “It wasn’t what you think.”

  “It doesn’t matter what I think,” I replied.

  “Lansing and I are friends. We went to high school together. He’s Arturo’s best friend.”

  I didn’t reply.

  “I love Arturo,” she blurted, in defense.

  “What about Lansing?” I sighed. I wanted to blame the weight of the packages, but my shoulders slumped from asking the question. I was afraid of her answer.

  “I love him, too,” she answered quieter.

  I licked my lips and dropped my eyes. I couldn’t hear those words from her.

  “I love him, but as a friend. We have a history, but it was a long time ago.” Guinevere let out a deep breath.

  “Guinevere, be honest with yourself.”

  “I…I made a mistake, Lila.”

  I winced. I didn’t want to believe being with Lansing Lotte would be a mistake for any woman. Yet, I didn’t want her to admit it was the greatest night of her life either. I also wasn’t quite convinced that Guinie was telling the truth. She wasn’t being honest with herself.

  “I miss Arturo.” Her voice cracked and I wouldn’t handle it well if she cried. I recognized that kind of loss, but I could only imagine the kind of pain Guinie’s mistake would cause if Arturo returned.

  “I don’t know what to say, Guinevere.”

  Guinie nodded sadly at me.

  “I want him to be happy,” she said, attempting a smile. “I think he wants to find that in you.”

  I wanted to smile, but I twisted my lips, instead. I wanted Lansing to be happy with me, too.

  “I don’t want to speak for Lansing, but I think that’s all he wants for you, as well,” I said.

  “I won’t be able to be anything until Arturo is found. Whether he still wants me or not, I just want him to be safe. Healthy.”

  Again, I didn’t know how to respond. Arturo was alive, but finding out where he had been was the question on everyone’s mind.

  Fleur held my hand as we walked down the busy New York street. People bustled everywhere as it was the day before Christmas Eve. I hadn’t really done any shopping that year. The holidays hadn’t been a thought to me until I saw the tree on television, while I sat with Fleur, and decided Lila and Fleur needed some holiday cheer. I’d ordered the tree with the great intention of making it traditional. We would hang the lights like I had done with my mother as a child. We’d play some holiday tunes and sing along. Fleur seemed to be perking up, despite being sick for a day or two. Her whole face lit up when Will came into the apartment with the seven-foot evergreen.

  I hated to ask him to get it for me, but I couldn’t risk taking Fleur out to find one ourselves. He helped me set it up in the stand he bought. While we struggled, the delivery of lights arrived from the hardware store. Fleur and I slowly unwrapped the strands from the boxes before Lila returned. I felt like a kid again, literally. The holiday spirit was slowly creeping into me, or rather, the spirit of Fleur and Lila was taking me over. Watching Lila interact and care for Fleur melted my heart. She was a good mother. I cursed myself for ever accusing her of being a bad one. She was patient and kind, and for obvious reasons, very giving. She’d given up her life to take on Fleur. It was one of the least selfish acts I’d ever known someone to do. It made Lila almost heroic.

  I was torn when she told me about Mure Linn. Two-toned eyes could only be his. We all had suspected he knew something about Arturo’s whereabouts. Second to Mure Linn was Ana LeFaye, Arturo’s stepsister, and when I suddenly saw her on the street outside Bloomingdale’s, I felt the coincidence was too great. Ana returned to New York? Something was going on, and we needed to get to the bottom of it.

  “Ana?” I called out to her, as she noticed me but decided to avoid me

  It was Morte, Arturo’s young son, who looked over his shoulder. His longer black hair falling over his piercing green eyes. His face as pale as the snow that fell lightly. He stopped short, staring at Fleur, and Ana stumbled forward as she tugged his little hand.

  By then, I had caught up to them.

  “Ana?” I said again.

  She slowly turned and her green eyes leveled me like Medusa. She twitched her bright red lips and her tongue dipped out to moisten them before she hissed my name as if surprised.

  “Lansing. How wonderful to see you.”

  Something made me pull Fleur closer to my legs, and she leaned her face into my thigh.

  “Who do we have here?” Ana’s slithering voice filled the noisy air. I looked down at Fleur to see that Morte had reached a thin finger in her direction. His nails were a bit long for a boy, and he was dragging it down Fleur’s face. Fleur was trying to burrow even deeper into my leg before I reached down to pick her up.

  “This is my girlfriend, Fleur,” I said trying to make light of the situation.

  “Hmmm…,” Ana laughed with a touch of evil, “Does Guinevere know you have a new girlfriend?” Ana’s eyes danced as she knew what she said displayed her intent to stun me. Out of the corner of my eye, Morte’s head whipped in the direction of his mother.

  “Guinevere wouldn’t care that he had a girlfriend,” Morte defended. “She loves Arturo.”

  Ana pursed her lips and briefly closed her eyes at Morte’s tone.

  “I don’t think Guinevere is too worried about Arturo, any longer,” Ana said, speaking to the child but looking at me.

  “Why would you say that?” Morte’s shaky voice stole my question. Ana’s shoulders dropped.

  “I just think that Guinevere has moved on. She has other things to think about, instead,” Ana said softly, her eyes still holding mine in the way of a Greek goddess of evil seduction.

  “Why would you say that?” Morte insisted again. It was clear that Ana wanted to avoid the question and the growing confrontation between her and her son, but I wanted the answer to the same question.

  “I have my reasons,” Ana said with a finality that Morte seemed to know meant the discussion was over. I, on the other hand, wanted more of an explanation.

  “Why would you say that, actually?” I demanded. “What do you know?”

  Ana didn’t reply at first, clearly plotting her answer. When she didn’t respond immediately, I tried to change the subject to ease the tension. I didn�
�t like Ana LeFaye and I knew she wasn’t going to give me any information I needed.

  “How was Paris?” I interjected.

  “Paris? We didn’t…” Morte spoke, but a hand with blood-red nails covered his mouth.

  “It was beautiful,” Ana said through a clenched jaw. Her smile was in direct contradiction with the tension of her mouth.

  “We must be going. Merry Christmas, Lansing.” Ana tugged on Morte, who had reached his hand out again and was holding onto Fleur’s leg. I had noticed her swinging it, but I thought she was just doing it, not that she was actually trying to defend herself against him. He was looking over his shoulder at us and Fleur peeked her head out from the protection of the scarf around my neck to look at him. Within seconds, her head was tucked back into my scarf; as if she was playing hide-and-go seek with him. As Morte stared on at us, though, I realized it was more than a slightly familiar smile crossing his lips; it looked almost as evil as his mother’s. I shivered as I jiggled Fleur to reassure her that I would never let anything happen to her.

  My mind still reeled as I returned to Lila’s apartment. I had made myself comfortable there by bringing down some clothes and my guitar. I played it absentmindedly, while I sat on the couch and Fleur colored in a book on the floor. I had part one of Lila’s Christmas present all set with a giant bow on it and I hoped she liked it. My mind drifted again as I waited for her return.

  Things weren’t adding up. Arturo had been seen several times in New York City, one of which was down the street from my apartment building. Mure Linn seen on the top floor of a private wing at Kingston Hospital, which Kaye had learned was a special rehabilitation center, but he was still trying to figure out for what. Ana shopping on the streets of uptown. And most of all, Morte’s words. They didn’t go to Paris, he implied. So, where had they been?

  I was still fiddling with my guitar, working on a tune in my head when the door opened with a bang and a laugh.

  “Oops,” Lila giggled and just the sound of her comforted me. I’d been living with Lila for three months, and I had grown very comfortable with the little things. The way she laughed. The way she curled up on the couch. The way she smiled at me. I’d also started to recognize her struggles. The way her eyes shut her off when she disagreed or distrusted a situation. The way she bit her lip when she was going to tell you something she knew you didn’t want to hear, but needed to think about. Lila was the voice of reason for me and I needed her strength.