by TylerRose.
“I really don’t like surprises, J.”
She was the only woman he let call him by a short form of his name. He liked it, liked to hear her voice saying it.
“You love surprises. What you don’t like is not having control,” he corrected. “You’re with me, and you know you’re always safe with me. So let it go. Go with the flow.”
“I don’t like being manipulated either.”
“I’m not doing that either. I’m doing something nice, so let me already. You’re gonna live a little if it kills me, little girl.”
She laughed out loud. “It just might, old man.”
Before he had the car out of the parking lot, he had a fat joint fired up and was holding it out to her.
“Ever been to Chicago?” he asked some time later, taking an exit ramp that led toward the tall buildings.
“A couple times.”
Push of a button and the map screen told him where to turn. They pulled up to a formal wear store.
“Are we going to a wedding?” she asked.
“No. But it is black tie.”
“May I help you—“ the sales woman froze to see the long haired guy in jeans.
“I’m giving a boatload of money to a charity tonight and forgot to bring my suit. And her dress. I want a gown for her in the five grand range. Something black and lacy. She looks good in lace. Where are your suits? I want something Armani.”
“I didn’t know that name was in your dictionary, dude,” Tyler teased.
“You’d be surprised what I know. Go find something hot, woman.”
Black and lacy they were, off the shoulder, one strap…ruffles. No, no, no.
Then she saw a lace and bead number. Beautiful black lace around the shoulders and doubled across the chest. Long lace sleeves, close-fitting down the arm. Enough of a hint of cleavage without being trashy. The skirt was ankle length veils from just below the buttocks. This one she would try on.
“I need shoes, she said, kicking off the leather boots. “Two inch heel, size seven.”
Several were brought. She decided the strappy ones might break and so chose the open toe pump with fuller sides. The size six dress fit as was.
“Oops, she said, getting a look at the price tag. “The one I like is out of the price range,” she called out.
“By how much?” he asked, coming out of his dressing room, adjusting a sleeve.
He saw her and halted, struck dumb. She was incredible, spirals of curls spilling around her bare shoulders, skin luminescent like the surface of a pearl.
“Wow.”
Down, up.
“I don’t care how much it is. You’re going to have it.”
“How many days rental on the suit, sir?” the salesman asked.
“None. I’m buying it,” Jerome said, heading back to change into his jeans.
“Will sir require anything else?”
“Another glass of wine for the lady,” he said, closing the door.
Tyler changed as well, and was waiting for him with a fresh glass of chilled white wine. He handed over his American Express card to pay for his six thousand dollar silk suit, her seven thousand dollar gown, shoes for both, socks for him and silk hose for her, a small clutch for her. The salesman carried everything to the car, hanging the suit and gown in the rear seat while Jerome called the hotel to inform them they would be arriving momentarily in the black Torino.
“Must be some shindig,” Tyler said as they pulled out into traffic.
“Yep. I know you know what to do at these things. I still have no clue.”
She laughed, a sound he liked to hear. Wanted to hear more often. “For someone who has no clue, you do pretty well.”
“My money does most of the talking,” he griped. “I may only get a million a year for the next twelve years, but I’ve invested what I’ve already collected and am worth far more. Far too many people know it.”
They pulled up to the Crown Royal hotel. Bellhops hurried out, pulling the cart as Jerome opened the trunk. One suitcase and a gym bag.
“Your suite is ready, Mr. Black,” the concierge told him, putting the form to sign on the counter next to the key.
“Expensive little day trip,” Tyler commented on seeing the two room suite.
It was as large as a one bedroom apartment, with a full kitchen.
“Nah. I’ve spent more.” He checked his watch. “You have an appointment for a hot rock massage in fifteen minutes and I’m going for a workout in the gym.”
He kissed her cheek and grabbed up the gym bag and was out the door. She stood at the window to look out over the sunny city for a few minutes. Thinking and feeling, zoning out in the perfect silence to hear the sounds of the Universe.
She was ready when the masseur knocked. Robert was handsome and muscular in his tight white t-shirt, and had his table up and ready in minutes. A crock pot of already hot, smooth rocks plugged in, he asked her fragrance preference.
“Roses,” she replied, handing over a small vial of oil.
“Deep massage or light massage?”
“Medium. I was in a car all morning but have to go to a black tie thing this evening.”
“Will do.”
Hot rocks on and left to soak the warmth in a few minutes, he started with gentle rolling twists of her ankles. Moving up her legs, fingers kept a professional distance from anything inappropriate. He was very aware of keeping professional, even if his thoughts were decidedly dirty. Rocks off her back, he slid upwards several times to work general tension out of her, then settled into a slightly deeper massage.
“What is this?” he asked, fingers stroking under the edge of her shoulder blade.
“The knot that won’t go away,” she sighed. “Leave it be. Now is not the time to go for it.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
As he was folding up his table, a cosmetologist arrived.
“I was told you forgot your makeup?” she said, opening her kit.
“I just need eyeliner and shadow. Black liner, purple shadow.”
Blinks like the girl had never heard of such a thing.
“Never mind. Thank you,” Tyler sent her away with a ten dollar tip.
With a thought, she brought her own makeup bag to her hands, along with the gold hair combs and necklace Thomas had given her. She was dressed and ready when Jerome returned.
Sitting at the table with a cup of coffee, hair pulled up at the sides, curls down her back.
“Wow.”
“You said that once already,” she smiled at him.
“It bears repeating. I’ll be ready in half an hour. The desk will call when our car arrives.”
“A limo too?”
“Bentley.”
Tyler just shook her head as he went through to the bathroom. Half an hour on the dot. Hair at the sides pulled back into a pony tail that reminded her of Qui Gon Jin. The look suited him. French collar shirt. No tie. Ever Jerome.
“You clean up nice, old man,” she smiled.
His retort was cut off by the phone. The car had arrived. Clutch in her hand, arm in arm, they went down to it.
This was no ordinary charity event. Jerome was the guest of honor. A local philanthropic group liked the idea of Safe Haven and was raising capital to make his own version. The dinner dance was $1000 a plate, attended by three hundred. More was collected via private donation. When dessert was served, Jerome went to the podium to speak.
“It’s no secret I won my starter cash in a lottery. The odds say almost no one does that, which means the poor are going to stay poor and criminals will still take advantage of them. Statistics also say more urban centers are in decline than ever before. So crime continues to rise. One building of 100 apartments may not be a lot in the scope of a city of a million people, but to the people who live there, that one building is their life and their world. A society unto itself. If they know they are safe and protected, that they can go into their building and not be assaulted by gangs who want them out; if they can go
to the laundry room without being harassed, then they can have confidence in themselves as human beings. One building at a time is how we take back what belongs to law-abiding citizens. It’s up to those of us who have hit the jackpot to help the ones who never will. Thank you.”
Polite applause as he returned to his seat and the next speech began. With dessert and speeches over, dancing began.
“Don’t you dare tell Tony and Gable I gave a speech.”
She laughed. “I won’t.”
“Do you know how to waltz?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered, to his surprise.
He took her by the hand to the floor and around they went. He remained mindful of their height difference and didn’t make her overreach as they glided over the floor. The song ended and they applauded the orchestra. They started the next song, his request.
“Do you know the Viennese waltz?”
She smiled at him. “Indeed I do.”
“No way.”
“Try me, old man.”
They danced as if they’d been partnered all their lives. Long steps, reaching up and down, spins, time and again. He sang the song to her as they others cleared the floor to watch them. He ended with her in a small dip, to greater applause. He smiled, brought her up for a kiss on her cheek.
“Who taught you how to dance?” she asked.
“Chen insisted I take lessons. Do you tango?”
Her grin was enough.
“Tango!” he called, and they began to circle each other, taunting with gestures.
Classic Argentinian tango music. Posture and attitude, she thwarted his attempts to capture her, kick to the back, spinning hips, the glide arm in arm, and she pushed him away. A dance that was more a battle of wills and dominance. Legs twisting and kicking and he spun her out and back and they glided across the floor again. The music ended abruptly as he grabbed her by the back of the neck and pulled her hard against him for a harder kiss.
You’d have thought they’d won a competition, with the noise of the people watching. Out of breath, they stared at each other in a moment of mutual realization. They could never deny their attraction; but neither was going to admit love. He walked her toward their table to sit and rest a bit.
“May I have this dance?” she heard to her right after the next song ended.
A familiar voice and hand, and she looked up to see a face she did not expect. Thomas Holmes. Not angry, but very curious. She glanced to Jerome, who nodded her off. Thomas took her into a simple waltz stance, which meant he wanted to talk.
“I thought you had your period,” he said.
“She gets those, does she? I can’t say she will never will lie to you about that; but I am not she, Thomas.”
“Then who are you?” he asked, looking at the hair…and the combs he’d given her a month ago.
“I was your diligent and eager student in another universe and you were Daddy Warbucks keeping me on a very long leash.”
“Come with me to my room and let’s talk.”
“I’m not yours, Thomas. Teach the blonde how to endure brutal men. How to escape them.”
“Brutal? Tyler, what’s happened to you?” he asked with sincere concern.
She smiled. “Ask the reverse. What hasn’t happened to me? Sell your stock off just before the election of 2000. Invest in gold now and wait until 2012 to sell. Invest in Microsoft now. As much as you can. Yahoo too, when it goes IPO. Sell when they hit $200 a share and don’t go back no matter what. Invest in oil now and hold onto your shares until at least 2008 regardless what happens. Sell when it hits $140 a barrel and don’t go back.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because when 43 is elected, the entire world is going to turn upside down. It’ll happen again to the stock market in late 2008. October. Why is it always October? You’re going to be holding money for her, to invest on her behalf. She’s going to need it, as much as you can make for her.”
“There’s something else in this, isn’t there? I can see it in your eyes.”
“The world is going to have its eyes opened next February and it won’t be a happy awakening.”
The music ended and she walked away to the table. Jerome was already on his feet ready to leave.
“Who was that?”
She couldn’t answer, went out and around the building to a quieter spot.
“I’ll meet you back at the hotel,’ she said after a moment of mute pacing, and ported away.
Alone, she was able to cry it out. She had loved Thomas a great deal, but the way things had ended had to be the cautionary tale. He was who he was, in any timeline. He wanted the Apogee position for himself, was on Earth for that sole reason. She couldn’t let him know she knew all that. Not nearly yet. Maybe never.
By the time Jerome arrived, she was cried out and sitting quietly in a robe with her memories, smoking a bowl.
“What happened? Who was that?” he asked, shoes kicked off so he could sit beside her on the bed and pull her close…and take the bowl for a puff.
“My first teacher of the more civilized things,” she said. “The man who made it possible for me to stay in California. I told you about him. Without him, I would not be who I am.”
“You loved him?”
“He asked me to marry him and I walked away,” she said, keeping it simple. She couldn’t tell him the whole story yet.
“You loved him,” he more stated than asked. “Is he one of those regrets you’d feel if you were able?”
“Regret? No. It ended badly. My future was waiting and I wasn’t going to be a rich investor’s trophy wife. I never regretted leaving Earth at that time.”
“Then why does it hurt you so much, Ty?”
She sighed, her head on his chest, ready for closeness. “Because of the emotions I do not have, I feel others far more intensely. Anger and grief especially, but others too.”
“Which do you feel for him?”
“A whole ball of them,” she said.
“I understand you needed some space, Ty; but you gotta stop running away when it hurts. It’s a dangerous habit. You don’t have to hurt alone. Not anymore. I’m here for you now. Don’t go pushin’ me away. I won’t let you.”
“I didn’t run. I needed to be alone. I had a lovely evening,” she said. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Who taught you to dance?”
“He did. He took me to a bunch of things like tonight and he wanted me to know proper ballroom dance. So for three weeks before the first one, every date included professional dance lessons. He taught me to tango up and down the aisle between the seats on his plane. I even know the Pasodoble.”
“No shit?”
“No shit. Chen taught me some as well.”
He chuckled and reached for the phone to order a pizza, pop, and a salad with dressing on the side from a place around the corner.
“Let’s make out until it gets here,” he said, turning back to her.
“What are we? Sixteen?”
“Until you let me go all the way, all we doin’ is makin’ out with heavy petting.”
She laughed and he kissed her to shut her up.
“I think about that night often,” she said when he paused.
“Yeah, me too. I like your version better.” He pulled the robe open to kiss the swell of her breasts. “Your sex smells different from hers.”
“The rose oil from my massage?”
“No. She wore that too. Your pheromones are different. You smell better.”
He pushed her knees apart and held them wide open, his tongue tasting her musky wetness. She shrieked in surprise with a near-orgasm from the first mouth to ever touch her virginal pussy.
He paused, pulled back a little. “What’s this?”
“What’s what? It’s a vagina,” she gasped, catching her breath.
“There’s skin covering part of your opening.”
“That, big man, is called a hymen. Also known as a maidenhead. It is proof
of my virginity and will remain intact if at all possible until the moment I decide to let a man fuck me. So that means no fingers inside and no dicks.”
“Not even a dildo? Wow, you’re serious.” He kissed her thigh and licked her puss again. “What about anal? No hymen there.”
“No, but you’ll keep your dick out just the same.”
“For now. Good thing you’re not a cock tease or anything,” he said, and got down to business giving her several good cums before the pizza delivery dude knocked on the door.
He exorcised a few demons from her, taking note of what type of touch had her back arching the highest and her puss squirting the most. Until the knock on the door made him stop. He left her breathless on the bed and went out to get the food. As the door closed, he put the Do Not Disturb sign out.
“Want to eat in there or out here?” he called.
“Out here,” she said, coming out in her robe.
Box between them on the sofa, they watched Are You Being Served on PBS.
“I should turn on my phone,” he realized, reaching into his pocked. “Seven calls? What the fuck? I can’t go anywhere, can I?”
“Nope,” she replied.
“One from Roc, two from Gabe and four from Landra Ahr.”
“Surprised he didn’t just come through the car on the way here,” she said.
“He tried, I’m sure. I learned how to turn that shit off. What do you want?” he asked when Landra Ahr picked up.
“To know when you will be home.”
“Thanks, Mommy. We’ll be home whenever I fuckin’ feel like it. Did Roc or Gable want to know anything different?”
“No,” Landra Ahr said.
“Then leave me the fuck alone. I’m trying to seduce a minor here and she’s hard enough work without interruptions over nothing.”
Call disconnected, phone turned off.
“Just plain rude.”
“Yup, but I’m not a minor. I did turn 18 before I came to Earth. I’m going to take a shower.”
Another half a slice of pizza and he realized what a dumb shit he was. Tyler. Naked. With water.
Pizza dropped and the rest of the Armani suit stripped off along the way, he slid the shower door open. She looked at him with those fathomless eyes he couldn’t read. Skin to skin, he took her into his arms for kisses and tongues under the not quite hot water.
