No Reservations

by Natalia Banks

  None of that was of any interest to either Lorraine or Griffin, though the spectacle of that fanciful illusion of happiness couldn’t help but catch their eye.

  There was so much to talk about, to worry about, Lorraine hardly knew where to begin. She asked Griffin, “So … we’re going to have to settle that law suit, aren’t we?”

  “I think it’s only a question of how much. Problem is, once he smells blood in the water, it could get ugly.”

  “Just make an offer with no counter. He’ll take it, a grubby little bastard like that.”

  “It’s not him we’re worried about, it’s his lawyers. Once those shysters got wind of what the case entailed, how much money there was at stake, he was able to get the best there is.”

  A handsome cab rolled by, horse huffing, the woody smell of hair and hey lingering behind it.

  Lorraine trying to lighten the situation said, “Maybe we could get a handsome cab, give tours of the city.”

  “What’ll you do while I drive?” Griffin smiled.

  “You? I drive, Grif … you’re the horse!” They both chuckled, stopping with a thick crowd of pedestrians to wait for the light to change. “Maybe we could move, start a new life … selling souvenirs from a roadside stand in Arizona or Nevada or something.”

  Griffin snapped his fingers with the wide-eyed air of inspiration. “What’s the matter with me? We’ll just ride Ashe’s coat tales. He’ll be a big Hollywood film director — ”

  “Oh, no question about that.”

  “So, he’ll set us up. One thing about us Phoenix men, we stick together.”

  “One thing?” Lorraine smiled and they neared to a tender kiss, light and loving. "What about Rachel, you think she'll mind?”

  Griffin chuckled. “With all those Grammy awards and world tours and chart-topping albums? I think she’ll have other things to worry about.”

  Lorraine chuckled with him, the two savoring the moment of togetherness, the chemistry which only they two could create, and which only they could share. The light changed and they crossed the street with the rest of the crowd.

  Griffin sighed, car exhaust heavy in the intersection. “Honestly, I could leave this town, never look back.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Of course! Sure, it’s one of the world's great cities, this is where the action is. But I’ll find a way no matter where we are, we'll find a way together. You’re all I need, Lorraine, you and the kids, some way to put a roof over your heads.”

  “That may be enough for you, but I need diamonds, Big Spender.” They laughed again, and Lorraine went on, “Maybe we go back to Denver, work with my folks at the learning center down there. Maybe I could become a teacher … ” Griffin looked at Lorraine with an expression she only saw on his face when he was looking at her. It was an impressed smile, brows arched, blue eyes twinkling. “Hey, we had a lot of fun in Denver.”

  “Yes,” Griffin simply said, “yes we did. We fell in love in Denver. You saved my life in Denver.”

  “We saved each other.”

  They stopped walking, pausing on the crowded sidewalk for another long kiss. Lorraine’s hands rested on his broad, iron chest, his tender lips possessing every bit of his strength and using none of it to a terrific effect.

  Chapter 11

  Lorraine was asleep, but she could sense Griffin stirring around her. She turned, still in that heady distance between sleep and wakefulness. “Shshshshsh,” Griffin said, very soft and low in the silence of their bedroom, “you’re still asleep, baby, still asleep. Don’t wake up, baby, don’t wake up … ”

  Lorraine processed the words, knowing their source, but her dreamlike state wavered, a bubble wobbling but unwilling to burst.

  Griffin’s unmistakable touch ignited her pussy, fingers teasing her clit out and getting her juices flowing. Lorraine’s head lolled on the pillow, eyes fluttering while her world remained in darkness. She could imagine Griffin’s face above her, she could feel his fingers and picture them in her strange dream as if it was really happening, which it was.

  “Feels so good to be asleep,” Griffin cooed, “nice and relaxed, just sleeping … just sleeping … ” His cock was a slow pressure building in her, filling her slowly, as if it weren't really happening at all. “It’s all just a dream, baby, just a dream … “

  Lorraine groaned, uncertain of her reality. Part of her knew but the rest of her didn't want to, and that part of her brain that Griffin had hard-wired to his fantasy world was in control. Reality had no hold on her or on either of them. All their problems, the mounting perils, faded into the back of her mind. That was the dream, this was the reality.

  “I wish I could be there with you, baby,” Griffin said, his fingers circling around the little muscular mound at the top of her pussy, a cluster of nerves around her precious G spot. “But, I’m thinking of you, dreaming about you just the same way you’re dreaming about me now, my love, my only true love … ”

  Lorraine’s moan leaked up, her mind reeling between the temptation of waking to Griffin’s attention and the even stronger temptation not to.

  “I said I’d always be there,” Griffin rasped, "and I will, baby, I will, I'm on my way back to you as soon as I can get there. Until then, think about me, think about my hands on you, stroking you, holding you so tight. Think about my voice, I know you love it when I talk to you, when I talk dirty to you, my perfect little sweet piece of ass.”

  Those words stirred in Lorraine’s loins as a soft groan leaked out of her throat.

  “Even now, you can hear my voice, so real, so natural, like I was right there with you. And I will be, baby, so soon …. so soon … ”

  Lorraine's eyes remained closed, recollections of Griffin’s handsome face flashing across her imagination. She couldn’t resist thinking of other parts, too: His long, athletic legs; that incredible cock and those big, perfect balls, the flavor already tickling the back of her throat; his strong torso rippling with muscles; arms and shoulders branching out from his wide, heroic chest.

  “You can’t wait until you're in my arms again, can you? You can't stop thinking about me, dreaming of the day I come home. But it's okay, baby, because you can feel me near you, you can feel my body so close to yours, so ready. God, my cock's so hard for you, even so far away, I'm always hard for you, Lorraine! And you know that, you can feel my cock dragging along your legs, your thighs. Tap tap tap, baby … ”

  Lorraine could feel his huge hammer, already hard and getting her ready for another wild ravaging. She could feel his cock, his hands on her legs, her breasts.

  “You can feel me touching you,” Griffin said, “almost like I’m right there with you, my angel, my loving little librarian, like I was lying right next to you, so real you can feel me touching you, you can feel my voice ringing in your ears … ”

  Lorraine smacked her dry mouth, head rolling on that pillow beneath her.

  “Just relax,” he said, voice low and soothing, “keep sleeping, angel, keep sleeping, dream of me putting my cock into you, you can feel it happening.” And with that, Griffin eased himself into her, the pressure unmistakable. He was so delicate, so velvety smooth, the feel of his entry so pleasing, that Lorraine couldn't stir from her sleep, and would not if she could help it.

  Griffin made it easy to remain in that dreamy distance between what she knew was happening and what she wanted to believe was happening. It was too much for her brain to wrap around, and it had to succumb to the pressures of illusion, and of intrusion. Griffin was sliding in deeper, and that pushed all thought out of her mind.

  “Imagine me going a bit faster now,” Griffin said, pushing and pulling in a very slow, easy pace. Lorraine gave herself up to the tide of pleasure passing over her, and she dreamed that she was in the shallows of some tropical beach, salty warmth rising up, her body shifting back and forth, floating, drifting, numb to respond, resplendent in her helplessness.

  Then the waves came faster.

  “It’s like I was right ther
e with you,” Griffin said as he began to pump faster, “it's so clear in your mind, so real, like it was really happening, like I was really fucking you right there, right now!”

  Griffin’s cycle increased in speed, in depth, a waggle and a shake sending reliable tremors through Lorraine's body. “Imagine me going a bit faster, eh? You ready for that, baby?” Griffin was true to his word, his slow grind increasing, faster and deeper and longer and harder, but still not stirring her from that dreamy state, mind torn, heart sure, soul committed.

  “You’re making this happen,” Griffin said, “it's all in your mind, you're that powerful, that brilliant, that you could conjure such a feeling, so real, baby, it feels so real, doesn't it?” Griffin stopped, his grind ceasing all at once. “But it's not, baby, no. I'm miles away, my angel, trying to get back to you somehow, anyway I can. God, I want to be with you so much, be inside you so bad, just the way you feel it now, just the way you imagine it, the way you're dreaming it.” Then he pushed in again. “But until then, my sweet, sweet Lorraine, you’ll just have to dream, to keep dreaming, sleep and never wake up until I'm finally with you again … sleep until you wake up with me beside you, baby, the man of our dreams, the man of your dreams ... ”

  Lorraine’s body clenched, another orgasm swimming in tight circles behind her pussy. It roiled and coiled, fast getting stronger. With Lorraine in a state of delirious near-sleep, she couldn’t exert any focus on suppressing it. It was like that sneaky orgasm knew she was compromised and took full advantage, quick to leap to the fore of her body’s awareness, blotting out her other muffled senses.

  Her body trembled, a soft cry leaking out of her mouth as Griffin slid in and out, pumping up her orgasm to overwhelming power and capacity. Lorraine’s body and mind were torn between confusion and consciousness, total relaxation and utter orgasmic bliss. She wanted to wake and turn and wrap her arms around him, and she wanted not to do it. She wanted to reach down and rub her own mound to rile that orgasm to monstrous proportions. But, her arms were numb, and the slow build of that tremendous orgasm only made it stronger, filling her lungs, drowning her heart and her brain and her soul. Ultimately, all Lorraine could do was lay there and quiver as her cum built up to epic proportions and finally a crescendo of release overtook her body.

  Even through her body-shaking orgasm, Lorraine was still locked in a nether region of fantasy and reality, slumber and consciousness, solitude and the embrace of the love of her life. And that’s where she’d remain until the sun came up, though Lorraine slept well into the next day.

  Chapter 12

  Ashe picked at his dinner, Jeremy’s famous oven fried chicken and mashed potatoes barely touched. Griffin and Lorraine exchanged knowing glances, each eating in silence. The penthouse was quiet, the other rooms empty, Jeremy out for the evening.

  Lorraine asked Griffin, “Any progress on the law suit? News from the PI?”

  Griffin shook his head. “Lawyer wants me to settle, buy him off for a couple mil. Problem is, once we make that offer, he could nail us pretty solid.”

  “How solid?” She asked.

  “Rock solid. The worst of it is what it’s going to do to the company’s rep.”

  Lorraine washed down a mouthful of mashed potatoes with a sip of chardonnay. “The PEEC project was a big hit.”

  “And a big expense. Our partners know that, especially overseas.” Another long, sad silence twisted around the table like a ghost of something not yet born. “How’s it going at the department?”

  “It’s pretty terrible, I gotta admit. They just don’t like me, they haven’t from the start.”

  “You think they’re jealous?”

  “Jealous, threatened, you name it.”

  Ashe interjected, “Then all the sudden my play gets cancelled?”

  Both Lorraine and Griffin turned to Ashe, neither with a very amused expression. Griffin said, “What’s on your mind, son?”

  “She has trouble at work and then my play got cancelled.”

  Lorraine knew why Ashe was drawing this conclusion, but it was a hard thing to admit and impossible to know for sure. “Montego Prep is a private school, Ashe. The Education Department wouldn't have anything to do with it.” She tried to reason.

  Ashe slumped, not any more convinced by the line than Lorraine was, but neither one could do or say anything about it and both of them realized it.

  Griffin said sternly, “I think you owe your mother an apology.”

  Ashe looked up from his slouched posture, pushing out a disgruntled, begrudging, “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay, Ashe. I’m sorry about your play. You know I’d do anything I could to help.”

  “Yeah,” Ashe said, “I guess.”

  Griffin looked on as Kayla shrieked and shook her head, bits of chicken going flying. It was a burst of comedy relief, but it didn’t last and a sombre mood overtook the Phoenix family dining room once more.

  Lorraine stormed into Casper Newkirk’s office, an angry finger pointing. “What have you done?”

  He was sitting behind his desk and simply leaned back. He glanced at the little chair on the other side of his desk, his wordless invitation to sit, but Lorraine just as wordlessly declined. The office smelled of his body odor and fading cologne. It wasn’t fading fast enough. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mrs. Phoenix.”

  “My kid’s school play, it was just abruptly and mysterious cancelled.” Casper just looked up with a little shake of his head, jowls wobbling. “From out of nowhere? Please!”

  “Doesn’t your son attend a private school?” He scoffed.

  “That’s right.” She said with her hands on her hips, trying to maintain her cool.

  “And what possible influence could the Education Department … public education, mind you, have on your son’s private school?”

  “You know damn well how it works, Casper. Favors, influence, one hand washing the other. It was the same when I was working for the library system; everybody scrambling to keep their jobs, no matter what it takes.” She snorted, fuming.

  “Pity for such a young and pretty woman to be so jaded,” Casper chastised. “Still, they say it’s an occupational hazard.” He stressed the word hazard and glared at Lorraine from under his brow, letting the moment and the unspoken threat land effectively.

  “What was it, Casper? A friend of yours at the IRS hit them with a tax audit? Do you have some information you’re holding over somebody’s head?” She said disgruntled.

  “Really, Mrs. Phoenix, if there isn’t anything else — ”

  Lorraine stood stunned and stumped. She was stymied, with little in the way of any alternatives.

  Only one thing occurred that would make any sense at all to either of them.

  “What if I resigned?”

  At least Lorraine wasn’t the only stunned individual in the room. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I’m clearly not welcome here, and I don’t think I can accomplish the kinds of things I want to accomplish. Maybe this just isn’t as good fit as I thought it might be when I took the job.” She pursed her lips and folded her arms over her chest.

  Casper leaned back, the springs of his chair squeaking beneath his round girth as he folded his hands over his belly. “As I said, Mrs. Phoenix, I don’t have anything to do with your son’s school — ”

  “Then perhaps you could reach out to the private sector, one hand washing the other and all that.” Casper was clearly considering it, and after the lull Lorraine made her offer clear. “That play goes on as scheduled, I’ll turn in my resignation.” With that, Lorraine walked out of the office, out of the Education Department, out of Albany for what she was sure would be the last time.

  Carmen Jenkins was bent forward in her chair, a standard issue blanket over her legs, fingers picking at a paper napkin, twisting it into a long, tight paper needle. The hospital recreation room was filled with the battling scents of urine and bleach, but that was not the cause of Lorraine’s creeping nausea. Oth
er patients sat around the room, many in wheelchairs, some staring out the windows and others staggering shuffling around the big room with tiny steps and jabbering mouths saying nothing of interest to anyone.

  It was painful for Lorraine to see her old friend and former boss so reduced, so mentally injured, and it hurt even worse to know that Lorraine had played some unwitting part in her breakdown. Lorraine could only hope that Carmen would recover on her own, but it seemed less and less likely. Carmen rocked a little in her chair, staring straight ahead and not making eye contact with Lorraine, despite her old friend’s best efforts.

  “How dare you come here.” Carmen said in a low tone.

  In a soft, gentle voice, Lorraine said, “I don't mean to upset you.”

  Griffin stood behind Lorraine, who sat next to Carmen. “We need to know how much you know about these people, Carmen,” Griffin said, gentle but firm. “How much do you know about Albert’s death?”

  “They killed Albert,” Carmen spat out, eyes wide.

  “Who did?” Lorraine asked gently aware of the fragility of the situation.

  “The school board, Lorraine! How can you doubt that?” Carmen blurted out with a fiery passion.

  “They never did find any proof,” Griffin said in a calm, cautionary tone.

  “Of course not,” Carmen said. “I thought they said you were smart.”

  “Do you know Casper Newkirk?” Lorraine asked eyes fixated on Carmen.

  “That’s him,” Carmen said, “that’s the man we met in New York. He didn’t want you to have your learning centers, he offered Albert a lot of money to stop you. And Albert tried, he warned you. We all warned you.” Carmen started rocking a bit more in her little chair, staring off. “Now you’ll see, now you’ll see what they can do.” She stuttered.