by Unknown
The last thing I remember is Nicolas Cage jumping from the Intrepid into the Hudson River. But I felt Benton’s hard chest against mine as he carried me into my bedroom much later. Instinctively my arms wrapped around his neck pulling his face to mine. His kiss was strong yet sweet as Southern tea. What is it with men from Charleston? They always taste like the marsh breeze and hold you as though you are cherished china. He laid me down on my bed and covered me with his kiss. Electricity sparked through my veins as though I’d suddenly been plugged in. I responded to his kiss with every fiber of my soul; Benton Frazier tasted like home. Like everything I felt safe with.
Finally he lifted himself from me; I could feel his hands beside me shaking with refusal. Some fight was going on inside of him and his entire body was reeling against him as he moved off of me. “Liz, it’s all I have to stop kissing you. I am losing this battle,” he sat on the edge of the bed with his hand on the waistband of my sweatpants, toying with it like at any moment he might pull them from my hips. “But baby, if we do this, there can be no more Carlton. You can’t have us both. I need you to be completely mine. Liz? Can you forget him? Is it over? Can you love me and trust me again?”
Passion flooded my body and my legs ached to draw him inside, my head swam with need for his touch. The wet pounding of my clit warned me that satisfaction was crucial. Love flowed through his eyes into mine as I reached for his hand and pulled him to me.
By now everyone must think I’m a raving whore, so when I tell you that I was disappointed to find the other side of my bed empty, you’ll most likely just shrug and say, “Ah well, there’s always Carlton.” But do let me tell you that dreams of Benton were almost a nightly event. I was beginning to feel like sleep is the only reprieve left for me; there, in my dreams, I could be with Benton and nothing could make me feel guilty for it. I tried to stabilize my thoughts, rationalize that neither one of them is particularly good for me, but I was caught between evil and more evil. Carlton had some kind of deep inner brooding going on, as if the world has been especially cruel to him, and Benton was behaving like a he was trying to protect my reputation. I honestly didn’t get either of them. But I’d walked away from Carlton. It was over.
While I might be able to deal with his spoiled rich boy attitude, I couldn’t ignore the fact that he left me to deal with that pack of lions by myself. What an asshole! I felt all mushy and went with him to his father’s funeral. That’s what people do in relationships right? They support one another? But poor old Dad wasn’t even in the ground before their wicked little secrets started popping up everywhere. Seriously? Who lives like that? Well, people who live in castles live like that I guess. One thing’s for sure, I never, not on my wildest day, ever wanted that much damn drama.
The pounding in my head drowned out Palmer’s loud music; thank God for small miracles. It was just a matter of time before the neighbors start bitching about it; we’d already had a few broom to the ceiling knocks as a warning. But my dream had been so real that I glanced down, fully expecting my t-shirt to be ripped in the center and hanging carelessly from my shoulders. Of course it’s not, but my pajama pants were askew and dangerously low on my hips.
Great, I thought, I’ve resorted to assaulting myself now, and I’m not even very good at that! I padded into the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror. What’s it going to take to get laid? You see, this was the problem with getting a lot of sex and then suddenly getting none. It takes time for a body to adjust. But it still doesn’t erase the problem at hand. I was in love with Carlton, but in my dreams I was still fucking Benton. Something had to give! My heart and conscience were at war, and I was the girl picking flowers in the middle of the battlefield!
I wandered into the kitchen, convinced that a cup of coffee would lighten my mood. And as I downed the first sip I found it was true; it helped, and I sighed a deep breath of release. I’m a positive person by nature, and trouble, like what I was in at the moment, seemed to push me into the depths of depression before I even realize it. But this time I’m on top of it. I see it clear as day and know that I can beat it. All there is left to do is to decide which man I really wanted. Which one could I not live without? You might think the answer was clear, but it got real fuzzy around the point where I wanted to be chained up and used. Carlton’s was an amateur, and Benton an expert. Love or sex? Damn, there’s never a daisy around when you need one. I stared across the room at my brother as I sipped the hot coffee.
Palmer’s was completely oblivious to my presence as he stood in front of the window wrapped in nothing but a towel, wet curls dripping down his back. It was nice to see him happy for a change, especially since he wasn’t busy destroying our apartment like a spoiled little brat. I’m most thankful that he wasn’t dressed like a raving queen that morning. Not that it bothered me; I thought he should express himself whenever he wants. I’m just saying, it was a little startling over morning coffee.
The finely wrapped package next to the coffee pot has Carlton written all over it, and upon further inspection there was a beautiful flower arrangement perched on the center of the breakfast table. I pushed the box to the side; I wasn’t ready to face anything to do with Carlton this morning. Right on cue my phone buzzed on the counter: Carlton. I pushed cancel on my phone and realized he’d already called seven times. Good. Let him sweat a little.
“He’s baaaaaack,” I muttered, but Palmer is caught in his own world.
“What?” He glanced dreamily in my direction.
“Carlton, he’s back.”
Palmer nodded, “Of course he is.” But my brother had his mind somewhere else.
Nucy licked my hand to let me know she was there, and in her soulful eyes I felt the pain she held for her missing companion. I patted her head and sipped my coffee as I watched Palmer across the room. “I know, Nucy. I know. It’s entirely my fault.”
The least I could do was take her for a long walk. I mean, I did take the love of her life away from her. So I slipped on my tennis shoes and grabbed her leash, only to find she was now curled back up on the double doggie bed. “C’mon Nucy, I don’t feel like fighting you about this.”
“She’s already been,” Palmer glanced, acknowledging my presence. “Took her out this morning while you were sleeping.”
With palm to forehead I asked, “What time did Benton leave?” And I didn’t know why I was asking. Maybe hoping that my dream was real?
“He left last night, right after you fell asleep.”
“What time is it anyway?”
Palmer looked to his wrist and says, “Eight thirty-seven!”
“What the hell is that?”
“The watch?” Palmer said, holding up for me to see. “It’s a gift from my new friend.”
“Dick sucker can’t afford anything like that,” I said, inspecting the sleek new Movado watch on his wrist.
“Long gone, girlfriend. I met a new man!” Palmer grinned wide with enthusiasm.
“Really? When did this happen?”
“Couple of days after you left, I guess. His name is Peter, and he’s… well he’s a little older.”
“When were you planning to tell me?”
“I was sort of waiting to see how it all works out.”
“How much older, Palmer?” I ask suspiciously.
“You can stop the mother hen act, Liz. I just need to find the right guy.”
“And he’s the right guy?”
“Let’s just say he wants more than a romp in the bedroom, it’s romantic ya know? So yeah, maybe he’s the right guy.”
“Where’d you meet him?”
“I met him down at the wedding planner’s office.”
“Oh my God! Aunt Kerry’s wedding. I completely forgot about it.” I’d been so caught up in my latest bullshit that I totally forgot! “I’ve got to call her today and let her know I’m back. So, what can I do?”
“Nothing,” Palmer said, a smile washing over his face again. “I’ve only got a few things left to ar
range and Peter is helping me this afternoon. He’s wonderful, by the way. Aunt Kerry is going to be off her rocker when she sees what he has planned!”
“Do you need some money, maybe a little cash for this?”
“No no, it’s all been taken care of.”
“How?”
Palmer chuckles a little, “Hampton sent me a credit card to pay for everything, but Carlton handed me another one and said to use it. So I did.”
What was Carlton thinking? Did he think he could waltz in and pay for my Aunt’s wedding and suddenly I’d be his kitten again? It’s not like we were broke, but we did know a word that Carlton’s never heard before… budget. Now I was pissed that he stepped in where he didn’t belong.
I snatch my purse off the counter and grab my wallet, pulling my credit card out and shoving it in Palmer’s hand. “Be careful. I don’t know what’s left on the account.”
“But Carlton…”
“Forget about Carlton; just don’t use his card again. And get me the receipts for what you’ve spent so far so I can send him a check.”
Palmer’s eye brows rise up in surprise, “I knew you were having a tough time with the whole Carlton thing, but seriously, Benton over Carlton?”
Cuddling on the couch with them both last night had been just what my soul needed. I thought my brother had enjoyed it too, I mean it was just like old times back at the island house. “Well I guess you’ve voiced your choice then.”
“What the hell am I supposed to think? You jet off with ‘Killer Carlton,’ and then show up unannounced with Benton-- I’m so sexy-- Frazier. Really? I thought you were just using him for a little revenge sex. Are you fucking them both?”
“Don’t be crass, Palmer,” I said angrily.
“And what the hell is up with Benton? I thought he hated me, and then he shows up and nice as can be? It’s like he saw God or something.”
I have to admit that I have no earthly idea what’s up with Benton. I thought he’d be his usual self and use me like a whipping post. But no. ‘Benton 2.0’ is a more serious upgrade that I’d thought. “It’s complicated, Palmer,” I said, my voice is filled with resignation as I stared down at my coffee. “I changed my facebook status to ‘Complicated.’”
*-*-*-*-*
As I passed Palmer’s room, the actual cleanliness of it nearly knocked me down. I can’t help but do a double take and stand in his doorway. Palmer steps back and closes his closet door, and to my surprise and astonishment he’s dressed from head to toe in a delicious navy blue suit. I don’t think I’ve seen him dressed up since our parent’s funeral and am stunned by how handsome he’s become.
“Well?” he said, pulling the cuff of his starched white shirt out the bottom of his coat sleeve smartly. “What do you think?”
“What the hell, Palmer? I love it!” I did, and positive reinforcement was the key here. The re-do of Boy George that he’d been sporting since we moved to the city was wearing thin on me. That kind of look grows old fast, but this one never does.
“Peter prefers a more clean and elegant look,” He grinned as he modeled in front of the full length mirror.
“Sounds like Peter and I like the same kind of guy!” I said with a smile. “When do I get to meet him?”
“I don’t know… maybe tonight. He’s taking me to dinner after our meeting. Want to join us?”
“Count me in, Palmer. Count me in!”
I continued down the hallway to gather my things for work. I know you must be thinking I kept banker’s hours here; the boss’s girlfriend shows up any old time she wants. But the truth of the matter was that I was supposed to be in England. My showing up at all was going to be a surprise, and I’d considered taking the day off altogether. If I let Carlton and Benton screw up my career then I would really be lost. So I showered, dressed and prepared to handle the day. In my shoulder bag I stuff my purse and laptop, and reach for the finely wrapped box.
“What are you doing with my present?” Palmer asked.
“Your present? I thought this came with the flowers.”
Palmer snatched the box from my hands and reached up for two envelopes sitting prominently on the shelf over the counter. “The present is for me. The flowers and these two envelopes came for you,” he said as he flips the envelopes over in his fingers, “From Bell, Michaud, and Sheffield. Imagine that?”
I pulled them from Palmer’s fingertips as he playfully held on tight. My name is handwritten on both. Great, probably my walking papers. I put my bag on the counter and nervously opened the thin envelop. Although, you’re fired, was only two words, I suspected the law firm would be a bit more grandiose about letting me go. So the thin envelope must be better news.
Just a short note to tell you I’m thinking about you. We got back today, and quite frankly you’re all I can think about. –Patricia.
P.S. Carlton’s Closet: BELL
I turn the paper upside down and read the number plain as day: 7738. But I was sick and tired of having to play Nancy Drew. Why couldn’t Carlton just tell me these dirty, nasty secrets he had and let’s move on? All that room did was make me feel like a poor kid in a candy store. I couldn’t buy the sweets, and standing inside just made me drool. His family was nothing more than a pit of vipers, and just being around them made me want to throw my hands in the air and scream, ‘Miss Scarlet did it in the drawing room with a rope!’ I was thrilled to hear from Patricia though; her elegant handwriting warmed me like hot tea in a frilly cup. But I tossed her note into the trash can in the kitchen. I had enough problems.
I turned my attention to the other note, opening it slowly as if I expect it to blow up in my face.
Liz,
I wanted to let you know that I’m back in the city. Being anywhere without you is too much of a struggle. You are the light in my darkness and without you I’m sure that I’ll never find my way. I need your balance, your smile and your constant correction of my poor habits. Sometimes I wish I could lie on my pillow and howl at the moon with heartbreak like Jargon does. But that’s not the man you need and I see that now. The man you need is stronger than me, more confident, less weak. It’s my dream that you will teach me to become him.
Please forgive me. I love you!
Forever yours,
Carlton
Tears formed at the corners of my eyes, and they weren’t happy ones. Not only had my confusion between these two men clouded my judgment, but it seemed to be contagious. I didn’t need Carlton to change; I needed Carlton to pay fucking attention! He’s either hot or cold, but he knew that the few times he’s been medium, I’d loved it. Yet somehow he couldn’t find that setting often enough. It’s not like a G-spot; half the fun isn’t searching for it.
I still dreamed of being with him, the life we could have together would be near perfect. What girl doesn’t dream of owning a castle? Most would cuss me out and tell me how stupid I was for leaving him at all. But they didn’t know the ache my body had for control. Without it I become lost sexually, unaware that it had needs at all. Take for instance a bruise; it doesn’t always hurt, until you touched it. Then it hurt like all hell. Carlton’s like a bruise, when I’m near him it hurts. And it hurts because I wanted him so badly. I wanted him in control of me, tied to his table, taking me with all the toys and talents he had buried deep inside. The problem was: I think he wanted the same thing. I imagined two old submissives sitting around saying, “You whip me. No, you whip me!”
I just can’t help but think that Carlton doesn’t need that kind of touch as much as I do. He doesn’t seem to ache for it. Oh he’s into it when we do it, but he doesn’t beg for it. As a matter of fact I’m fairly sure that room he built in his apartment is for him, for him and his Mistress. I almost wonder if he and Kinsley hadn’t had some secret plan to kill off old Dad so they could be together in that very same sex room. Do I think Carlton was capable of such a thing? Probably not, but his hot and cold personality would lend to one to speculate he was a psychopath. I laughed a littl
e. It reminded me of the day I let myself into Benton’s apartment, only to find a paralegal trying out for my job. Clarity had hit me like a ton of bricks that day, and it was hitting me again. Everyone has a ‘bull-shit-o-meter’ that registers at their limit; mine was squelching with alarm at the thought of spending the rest of my life with Carlton and the rich gypsies he calls family.
And Benton Frasier was on my shit list too! How dare him change his entire persona right when I needed the old Benton! You know, I have to say that Benton was always a kind and thoughtful boyfriend. When I called him a scoundrel and talk about his extra relationships, it was not to say that he wasn’t all there for me. Benton had always been there for me. But that day in his apartment with ‘Miss Lilly White’ cuffed to his bed, I knew that it wouldn’t be the last time I’d walk in on him with another woman. So now he claimed he wants no one other than me, and he has changed. Except the man he’s become is not the man I loved. The Benton I loved controlled me; he answered my every whim with a paddle until I no longer had whims. The paddle had become the answer to every question I had, and he wielded it over me until I came. Then he would take me into his arms, explain that I would always be his Princess, and make love to me. But now he was giving me an ultimatum. Either give myself to him fully and forever, or live without the comforts he provides with his paddle. I was starting to believe that Patricia’s offer may have been the best one yet.
The packed elevator ride allowed me to blend in unnoticed, at least for a little while. Anonymity would be a welcome relief as I try to sort through my feelings.
“Good Morning, Miss Martin,” Lib beamed as I passed her desk. “How was England?”
She seems happy to see me and that’s refreshing. I did dump a tremendous responsibility on her and I do feel guilty about that but if I’d suspected she couldn’t handle it I wouldn’t have asked it of her. “Good morning, Lib,” I muttered with a forced smile.
“I can’t thank you enough for taking care of the ‘Paul’ thing. It’s been nice not to…”
