‘I’m sorry for the mess, but what can I do for you Mr ...’ Shit, shit, shit! It had escaped me.
‘Just Penn,’ he said.
‘Like Cher,’ I chirped. I really had to shut up now.
Penn sat on the arm of the loveseat and said. ‘I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be back early September–’
‘So you said,’ I said. Duh.
‘And I wanted to ask you if you’d go out to dinner with me.’
My legs felt like they were going to buckle and toss me onto my ass on the floor. My pussy went wet, again; it seemed to do that at the thought of him. My stomach knotted up with excitement and nerves. ‘Oh, um, sure. Sure I would love it.’ I was totally abandoning my own rule, it seemed. ‘I think about you a lot, actually,’ I blathered. Oh God!
Total silence.
Why? Why had I said that? What gateway between my brain and my mouth had been breached? I hung my head, waiting to die or just melt into the ugly blue carpet I had yet to have replaced.
Then a soft laugh and, ‘So you have that problem too?’
My head shot up and my heart filled with the yellow infused sparkle of pure hope. ‘What?’
‘I’ve had a hard time shaking thoughts of you, myself.’
Before I could prod and poke him for more information, he stood and ran his hands through his dark hair. It was just a touch too long and a few rogue streaks of silver hung out along his temples. ‘But for now I have to go. I have a meeting at a gallery in about 30 minutes and it’s 45 minutes from here. My agent gets cranky when I’m late.’ He grinned and my heart twisted sideways in my chest. ‘And he’s always cranky it seems.’
‘I’ll see you in September, then,’ I said.
Penn stopped, touched my cheek, leaned in and kissed me softly on the lips. Something in that kiss did more to me than the two men I had spent the better part of a steamy, sex laden evening with. I felt like I could come completely unglued after that kiss. Just crumble at his feet and do his bidding. Instead, I kissed him back. When he left, I blew out a sigh and watched him climb into his SUV.
‘No attachments, no strings, no real feelings. No commitments, Merritt. Just fun. Just. Fun ...’ If I kept saying it, maybe my stomach would stop feeling this way and I could treat Penn like every other guy I’d met so far this year.
Chapter Eleven
APRIL PASSED IN A BLUR of sex and more sex. I didn’t let the pervasive thoughts of Penn that floated to the surface of my psyche stall me out.
I let myself sink into the sultry, lazy schedule of working all day, seeing Jeffrey and my brother sometimes and being with the boys often. Sometimes it was me and Shane, usually after a night at the Flamingo making sure my mother didn’t do any more cage climbing. Jack had been promoted to go-go dancer slash wait staff and Jeffrey had started performing Gloria Gaynor’s I Will Survive. We’d stumble home, kissing and touching and then fuck wherever we fell. More times than not, Rob would enter silently to watch. Occasionally, he’d join in. One night it was just Rob and I alone, but that felt oddly wrong, like I was cheating on Shane, so it was only the once.
April 30th we had a dinner of to-die-for Chinese and drank red wine until we were nearly lethargic. ‘We want to take you on vacation with us this year,’ Shane said.
‘I can’t.’ I said it before I thought.
‘Why not? We haven’t even told you when,’ Rob said, his face going serious.
What the hell. I had to be honest. ‘Because, your month is up,’ I said to Shane. ‘And thusly, so is yours,’ I said to Rob.
‘Month?’ They said in unison.
So, I explained. I explained Jeffrey’s plan, my agreement, a year of no strings, no commitment. Just fun and frolics and fucking. They both grinned, but under it was a sadness.
‘And we can’t change your mind?’ Shane asked, pouring out the rest of the wine.
‘Nope,’ I said, sipping from my newly filled glass.
‘Can I be Mr May?’ Rob asked.
‘I feel like that would be cheating,’ I admitted. ‘Like I was lingering. And I can’t linger.’
‘No strings,’ Rob said.
‘Exactly.’ I nodded but then pulled my black sweater over my head. My hot pink bra was shot with ribbons of lace and it was sleekly beautiful and bordered on tartish. ‘So there’s only one thing to do.’
‘What?’ They asked together.
‘Make the most of it,’ I said softly.
It was Shane who climbed between my thighs after rolling on a condom and it was Rob who covered me in kisses. His fingers sliding between me and Shane to rub my clit until I arched and gasped and begged, coming hard around a thrusting cock that seemed to need no rest or release. I laughed when Shane, whispered, ‘Chinese Fire Drill,’ and they switched places. The old childhood game taking a whole new meaning in my mind forever.
Rob ripped into a foil packet and then he was thrusting into me while Shane stood to my side, stroking his cock, pausing to run it along my lips, my nipples, my throat before I came again and Rob followed close behind. Shane coming in a thick arch of white semen and soft cries.
The night continued in the same vein until it was time for me to go. I kissed them both. The last month was one I’d never regret and never forget. But it was May now and time to move on.
‘You are hardcore!’ Jeffrey snapped. He handed me a Chai and I sipped the rich spicy liquid like it could save my life.
We walked down from STUFF IT and passed the window of a brand new shop. I faced away from Jeffrey to eye the baubles and the scarves. Truth be told, I was not entirely sure of my choice to walk away from the boys. There was nothing not to like, but it had been a fluke for me. I didn’t think I’d ever meet two men I liked enough or trusted enough to recreate it. Nor did I think I’d escape the jealousy clause again. Usually, someone got their feelings hurt, or so I imagined. ‘Because I want to do what I said. I really want to try it. No ties. No commitment. No getting hung up. I want to have fun and sex and meet new people and meet ...’ I bit my lip. Hmm. Where had this come from?
‘Meet? Who? Meet who, Merritt?’
‘Me? I want to get my head clear and figure out who I am and who I want and all that clichéd bullshit we all talk about when we’re growing up. I want to grow up!’ I said and turned to him.
He was smiling at me. A calm, non-drama queen smile. A rarity for my best friend. His lip-gloss today was raspberry. ‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah. I mean, I knew what I was supposed to do.’ I started walking and he followed me. His faded jeans fit him in a way that most women would murder someone to achieve. Bitch.
‘Man and babies, picket fences and mini vans?’ He took my hand and swung it back and forth as we walked. A few of the older ladies looked at us and smiled. A few frowned. Whatever.
‘Yes and yes and oh, my God, ick, yes! But no one told me that I would one day find–’
‘Your husband slapping sticks with the local Phys Ed teacher and trainer.’
For some reason this struck me as funny. Something that had not many months before broken my heart struck me as utterly ridiculous and hysterical. I stopped dead in my tracks and turned to him. ‘Yes,’ I giggled. ‘Yes, I mean do you have any idea what it is to walk in and find two men – hmm, never mind,’ I said. Then the giggle turned to a true laugh and I stood on the cobblestones and laughed and laughed, bent at the waist, hysterical, can’t-breathe laughing.
Jeffrey said, ‘You’re hysterical.’
‘No, it’s hysterical!’ I managed. I mean, what was wrong with him? Really. Couldn’t he see how funny this was? Couldn’t he see that I was laughing?
‘No, give it a moment,’ he said gently, touching my hair as the warmer wind of May blew down the street.
‘I’m fine,’ I said, waving my arm at him. He was crazy. But then it hit me like an out of control truck. Hit me, slammed me hard, bowled me over, stole my breath and I was crying. Standing in the up-and-coming-once-again, chic neighbourhood my grandmother had onc
e lived in and I was bawling my eyes out like someone had died.
‘See there, see how fine you are?’ Jeffrey squatted down and opened the purse that swung from my limp arm. I felt horrified, paralyzed, utterly empty. He fished around and pulled out a tissue, wiped my streaming eyes as I continued to leak out a bucketful of emotion.
‘What’s wrong with me?’ I asked him.
‘You’re moving on.’
‘This is horrible,’ I said. The deep mournful sobs had turned to hitching, hiccupping breaths and yet the tears kept coming.
‘It sucks letting go.’ He kissed my forehead and stood, taking my arm, he pulled me upright and started to walk me down the avenue.
‘What am I letting go of?’ Sounded stupid, but I was utterly clueless, this storm of emotions had caught me off-guard. My body felt drained dry and my heart was a parched empty husk that had moments before felt full and fine.
‘What you were supposed to have with Drake. What you assumed you would have. What everyone has been telling you would have since you were a little girl.’
‘Oh,’ I said.
‘You know what you need?’ He steered me across the crosswalk and waved to the van that stopped for us.
‘A shot of whisky and a dildo?’ I squeaked, trying to laugh, almost managing.
‘Well, there’s your Friday night plans,’ he said. ‘But no. You need a grilled ham and cheese with fries from Babycakes.’
‘I do. I do need a grilled ham and cheese with extra fries from Babycakes,’ I said.
‘That’s what I said.’ He got me inside and in the booth.
Our usual waitress, Janice was working. Janice walked up, took one look at me and said, ‘Extra fries, hon?’
‘As many extras as you can dig up,’ Jeffrey said and then she went to get our drinks. ‘You gonna soldier on or take a break?’
‘Soldier on. I want to follow the plan. And I want to have fun. So far I have. It’s a ridiculous amount of sex but you know there was only one guy before Drake.’
‘One?’ he yipped.
‘One. And now I want ... more than one. Sometimes at a time.’
This time when I laughed it stayed laughter. And I kept laughing all the way through the fries. Leaving the restaurant I turned to Jeffrey and said, ‘I’m coming to the show tonight. Jack called and said they’re giving him a shot on stage.’
‘You should see your brother do Cher. Seriously. I mean, all these years and I never knew he had it in him!’
I laughed. Jack as Cher? I did not want to ponder the amount of makeup it would take to achieve that. ‘Jack? Really. You have got to be ki– oof!’
I looked up into the face of a wall of a man. A lean, lanky, ropey muscles wall, but a wall. ‘Hey, watch where you’re go–’ Then he was looking at me – really looking at me – and he grinned. It made his deep brown eyes squinch at the corners revealing tiny just-beginning lines around his eyes. Even in May he was ruddy and sun-browned. His dark hair blew around his face. He put a nicked-up hand on my arm and said, ‘I mean, sorry. Sorry. Are you OK?’
‘Oh, Lord. You are a force to be reckoned with,’ Jeffrey muttered.
‘Merritt,’ I managed.
‘Merritt,’ he repeated, like he was tasting my name on his tongue. ‘Hi, there, Merritt. I’m Elijah and you are very pretty.’
‘Another biblical name,’ Jeffrey muttered and I couldn’t help but grin.
‘Hi, Elijah. Thank you.’
‘You can call me Eli. And I’m sorry I bumped into you, but really now that we’re talking. I’m not.’
Oh, he was too adorable. ‘Eli, then. Hi.’
‘So, Merritt?’
‘Yes, Eli?’
‘I’m going to gag now,’ said Jeffrey.
‘Can I have your number?’
‘I’ll do you better. Do you like Cher?’
‘Well, well, well. We have a new flavour.’ Bubbles was sporting a riotous turquoise beehive and an aqua sequined gown tonight. Her heels made me dizzy just to look at and she leaned in, tweaking Eli’s cheek. ‘Hello, gorgeous.’
Eli grinned, unfazed and said, ‘Back atcha, toots.’
Bubbles shivered and fanned herself, her false eyelashes doing a joyous dance along the tops of her cheeks as she batted them. ‘Oh, sweet talker. What’ll it be, Miss Merritt? An Italian Surfer?’
‘I’m thinking a rum and coke tonight. Extra lime. And by extra I mean like ... half a lime.’
Bubbles nodded, his eyes pinging back to my date. ‘Got it. And you? Stud muffin, what will you have?’
‘Seltzer water with a twist.’
I stopped and Bubbles stopped and I think I heard the whole bar stop. ‘Just seltzer?’ Bubbles and I seemed to say in unison.
‘Just seltzer. I don’t drink.’
‘You’re going to sit through this sober?’ Bubbles laughed. ‘Good for you, baby. Good for you.’ He sauntered off to get our drinks and sighed.
‘Gosh, are you on the wagon? Did I do bad inviting you here?’
‘On the wagon?’ He laughed. ‘Nah. I’m committing to a marathon later this year and I find that drinking makes me ... sluggish. So I just don’t. It’s no big deal. Carry on. Onward and upward. Bottoms up,’ Eli said and winked.
I blew out a breath of a relief. ‘So you are a big, burly construction worker.’
He shrugged, shot me a bicep by flexing. ‘Not so big or burly. And no crew. I am a glorified fix-up man.’
‘Hey, someone’s gotta fix it up.’
‘You said it.’
Bubbles put down half a lime cut into wedges, a tall cold glass of rum and coke and then a tumbler of seltzer with the equivalent of a fruit salad swimming in it. ‘I didn’t know what you wanted, love, so I had him put in some lemon, lime, orange and maraschino cherries. Extra. Just for you,’ Bubbles tittered like a schoolgirl and off he went.
I couldn’t help but snort. ‘Someone has a fan.’
‘God, I hope you mean you.’ But he grinned and sipped from his wet fruit concoction.
Jack was scheduled to do Cher’s Half Breedand I had to admit, I was giddy with anticipation. ‘Not me, darling. You.’ I scanned the crowd for my mother. No sign. That was good. In the past few weeks I’d received fewer hysterical phone calls from her and my brother. Things seemed to be settling down a bit.
I saw Jeffrey poke his head out and wave at us. Eli started. ‘Is that the guy who was with you this morning?’
‘It is.’ Jeffrey looked completely different in his Diana Ross wig and diva gown than he did in boyfriend jeans and a button down. Even if he did wear lip-gloss most days.
‘Wow. What a hot woman,’ he laughed.
‘You said it. Prettier than most women-women. Bitches,’ I laughed.
Jeffrey disappeared and then from the side wings came my brother. My mouth fell open and I started openly. Tall and cinched up in a faux Native American ensemble, Jack was stunning. The long, glossy wig set off his bright blue eyes and long nose. The false eyelashes made him look like a beauty queen. He wasn’t a dead ringer for Cher, but damn if he wasn’t in the running.
‘Oh, my God, Merritt, I am going to hurl,’ he said and then stumbled in his moccasins. Jack managed to right himself as he came rushing at our table like a great locomotive.
‘Um, Jack this is El–’
‘Hi, hi,’ Jack cut me off. ‘I’ll be more polite later when I’m not having a stroke. I’m Merritt’s gay, drag queen brother and I am going to have a meltdown in about six seconds.’ My brother grabbed my rum and coke and swigged it like it was Gatorade and he’d just run a race.
‘Jack!’
‘It’s fine.’ He swigged some more and then Jeffrey came tearing across the floor, the belled, feather-trimmed skirt of his gown swishing like Scarlett O’Hara.
‘Jack! Simka! Get back there this instant. You need to–’
‘I can’t do it,’ my brother gasped.
‘You can do it, girl. You are great. I saw you in rehearsal. This is just cold fee
t.’
Jack looked at his tall brown leather moccasins. ‘How can I have cold feet in these?’
Eli snorted and I mentally cursed myself for the thought just moments before that things were calming down. This was not calm. This was lunacy.
‘You know what I mean. Get your ass back there!’ Jeffrey grinned at Eli. ‘Hi there. Cloville Yum-Yum. We’ve already met, but ...’
‘Jeffrey!’ I hissed.
‘Right. Come on now, Simka. The freak out is over. Let’s go. You’re up in five minutes.’
Jack turned and for the first time I really saw horrible, naked fear in his face. ‘I can’t,’ he said on a breath. The terror in his voice was audible.
Jeffrey put his hand on Jack’s sheathed bicep, leaned in, whispered to him. I strained to hear but couldn’t. All I could hear was The Locomotionthat the DJ was blaring so loudly that people on different continents could probably hear it.
Finally, Jack pulled back and smiled. ‘OK. I can do it. You’re right. Sorry, sis,’ he said, setting down my now empty rum and coke. He motioned for Bubbles, pointed to the drink and then himself. Another. On him.
‘It’s OK. You’re OK now.’
‘He’s fine,’ Jeffrey said, stroking my brother’s long silken hair.
I frowned and stared at Jeffrey. ‘You two aren’t–’
‘Don’t even go there,’ Jeffrey said over his shoulder as he herded Jack back stage.
‘What did that mean?’ I asked Eli. ‘Don’t go there yes, or don’t go there no?’
‘I have no idea,’ my date said. ‘I am thoroughly confused.’
‘And did you see that?’
‘Yeah. He’s like the ... queen whisperer.’
I was about to say something but the announcer said, ‘Ladies and ladies and the occasional gentleman, put your hands together for a Flamingo virgin. Our very own cage-collapsing Simka doing Half Breed!’
And then Jack was gliding onstage lip-syncing Cher like nobody’s business and I felt a great warm rush of unexpected pride for my brother the drag queen.
Chapter Twelve
I JUST DIDN’T WANT TO and Eli didn’t push it. He leaned in on my stoop and kissed me under the dome light like a teenager dropping off his high-school sweetheart. I kissed him back. New, soft, warm lips to kiss. It was both a rush and deep inside a tiny bit sad. One day I’d let myself find a new set of lips that I was sure I could come home and kiss every night. But not now.
Calendar Girl - An erotic novel (Xcite Erotic Romance Novels) Page 9
