by L. A. Ritz
“Yes, everything would be perfect except now he is asking for more.” Her voice drops, so Phillip can’t hear her.
“What do you mean?”
“He asked me to go to Paris with him tomorrow.” She still can’t believe it.
“Paris!” Amber is instantly excited again. “Go. You have to go.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Really. You are going to ask me that.” Bethany wonders sometimes where her friend’s head is.
“Yes, because you don’t have your Doctor’s visit for another week. That is a week to go to Paris.”
“I have no money.” This is Bethany’s second excuse to this, though she knows exactly what her friend will say.
“I have plenty of money.”
“No.”
“Yes.” Amber insists. “You know I will win.”
“Then what about my dad.” Bethany can’t leave him for another week, not when it is so close to her leaving him for good.
“First of all, you aren’t dying next week.” Amber starts. “You are going to have a surgery that will save your life. Secondly, you beat it last time. You will beat it this time.” No one says that sentence with more force than Amber.
“It’s worse.”
“Doesn’t matter. You are fighter.”
Bethany gets a little teary eyed. If there is one person that believes in Bethany the most, it is her best friend.
“Look what you did this weekend.” Amber continues, while Bethany controls her emotions. “You are fighting, not giving up.”
“Amber, I let a stranger fuck me.” Bethany’s voice is dry.
“And now he isn’t a stranger anymore.” There is always a positive in Amber’s eyes. Bethany hears Amber take a big breath. “Here is what you are going to do. You are going to say yes to Paris. I will purchase you a plane ticket to come back on a week from today. That is two days before your pre-op appointment. You will have the best week of your life. You will explore, indulge, and have lots of sex. Then I will pick you up from the airport and drive you home.”
Bethany can’t answer. She wants that badly.
“Bethany?” Ambers voice softens. She understands that Bethany is getting upset and emotional. “It will be great.”
“And you just trust this man who wants to take me with him. You haven’t even asked about him.” Bethany is looking for some excuse, any excuse to prove that Amber isn’t right.
“Bitch,” Amber says this with endearment. “If you trusted him with your body last night, then I trust that he is a good person. You are the type of person that only lets good people in.”
Bethany takes a moment. She is almost completely convinced that she will be going to Paris now. This solidifies when Amber says, “When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade.”
“Ok.” Bethany whispers.
“Ok?” Amber repeats.
“Ok.” Bethany is strong now. She is ready for this. “But I have no clothes to bring. And no money. Nothing really.”
Amber starts going off on all the things she will pack for her from her closet and how she will drop it off at the hotel for her.
Bethany stops her little closet shopping checklist. “What about my dad?” What about her dad? She thinks to herself. Bethany should be with him at this time. She wouldn’t even know what to tell him.
“Just let him know that I took you to Paris. That you will be home by next Monday.”
After one more thoughtful moment, Bethany gives her final confirmation. “Ok.”
After hearing Amber yell her excitements into Bethany’s ear for three minutes straight, Bethany returns to Phillip. He was still sitting on the bench and seemed to be looking through things on his phone. His smile is kind when she returns. She hopes that what she is about to say isn’t the biggest mistake of her life.
“You know that question you asked me a moment ago.”
“Which one?” He drawls it out.
“About Paris.”
“Yes.” He is eager and knows that she is going to accept.
“I will go.”
Phillip grabs her hand and spins her so swift that Bethany is unaware how she is sitting on his lap. Her body is dipped and Phillip has her pinned against the bench seat. His lips are on her quicker than she can protest. There really is no reason to protest though, not when this man is kissing her with so much passion, gratitude, and enthusiasm. Bethany grasps that she will have another week of this and it is a glorious moment to have repeated.
Chapter 18
Ok?
It takes an hour to coordinate with Amber. Bethany called her three times. Each time Amber states that Bethany doesn’t need to worry about what might be in the suitcase that Bethany will bring across the ocean with her. Bethany pictures Amber sticking in no underwear, a lot of indecent short skirts, piles of condoms, and that stupid Kuma Sutra How-To book that sits on Amber’s bedside table. Bethany decides that she trusts Amber far too much. Bethany does ask for the essentials, like the passport that is stowed untouched in the glove department of her Mustang. There are also nausea pills that Bethany also stores in her car. The one side effect of all this ovarian cancer business that Bethany hates the most is feeling turned and woozy. Those pills are her life saver. Finally the last thing that Bethany needs is the letter her mother wrote her before her death. It also is kept in the Mustang. It stays folded and tucked neatly into the sun visor above the driver’s seat. Bethany only takes it out when she needs her mother the most. Bethany is going to need her mother on this trip.
Phillip waits patiently for Bethany as she nervously tramps in front of him on the phone for that hour. In between each call he calms her with kisses and caressing touches. He only asks once, “Are you sure you want to come?”
Bethany is sure. She flips her wild curls to one side and tilts his face to her bare cheek. Her mouth is close to his ear. She whispers, “Positive.”
Phillip doesn’t ask again. He just lets her be and before the sun starts to set, Bethany is done communicating with Amber. Amber will be delivering the suitcase to the lobby of the Four Seasons shortly. There is only one thing left for Bethany to do and it is something Bethany can’t do with the company of the man beside her.
Bethany has to tell her father that she is going to Paris for the week.
Mark Harte is a stubborn, loving contradiction. He married the most hippie-liberal, free spirited woman he could find. Yet, he is a man of traditional manners. He wears work jeans and button-downs on most days. He wakes up before sunrise and works straight till six o’clock, no matter the day, no matter the weather. He cried when his wife died. He cried when his daughter got cancer the first time, and then, the second time. The second time was only a couple of weeks ago, she had been feeling unwell. They took her in for a check-up, the tears started before the doctor even confirmed it.
Mark believes his daughter is going to fight this and win. He does not think it is just fate telling them that Bethany is supposed to die. He sees the cancer as something that is attacking his only daughter. The cancer is a horrid, devilish, thing that preys on worthy and perfect beings, for no other reason than to destroy. Mark Harte believes in fighting. That is one reason why Bethany will do everything she can to stay alive, for her father.
At that moment, though, Bethany is doing something for herself. So, why Phillip is on the phone arranging the flight so that she can come along, Bethany is in the hotel hallway working up the courage to call her father. And then she hits send.
Her father picks up on the third ring. “Hey Bethy. Amber getting you into trouble?”
Bethany scoffs unnaturally. “Oh, you know. Screaming rock bands. Diving with killer whales. Eating twenty pounds of clam chowder. Only the worst.”
Mark Harte’s laugh is warm and deep, yet simply short. “I am sure. I can only imagine.”
Bethany pauses. She is not sure she can do this. “So, speaking of imagining.” She takes a deep breath. “Amber convinced her father to
pay for us go to Paris. Tomorrow.” Bethany squeaks out, “Can you imagine?”
Bethany is imagining all sorts of things her father is thinking at that moment. He doesn’t say anything. So she rambles on. “We were talking about it and how I wanted to go. Then Amber asked her father and he said he would pay for us. You know, it was sort of my dream. And well, we are going to be back next Sunday. I know I was supposed to help you with harvest this week, and well… be with you.” Bethany has a hard time explaining this and yet she continues. “But I want to go.”
Her father is quiet. It is the longest six seconds of her life. She doesn’t want to betray her father. She feels like she is betraying him by leaving him in this week. “Dad?”
“Ok.”
That is all he says. Ok. No scolding. No worrying. No emotion at all.
“Ok?” Bethany questions.
“Yes. Ok. I want you to go.”
“You do?” Bethany is surprised. This is a better response than she could ever imagine.
“Yes.” Her father sighs. “I was worried that I had too much to do this week. I still have twenty acres to harvest in four days. I got to pay for your treatments somehow. And when you get back next Sunday, I should be done.”
“But you aren’t mad that you don’t get to spend this week with me before…” Bethany stops herself from finishing her sentence.
Mark knows what she was going to say too. “Don’t you continue that sentence. You will be sick for a little bit, and I will be there. But you will be well again and you will have to help next harvest, no matter what. I am not letting you out of it.”
Bethany can’t believe this. She thought she would have to fight for this, but he is practically forcing her to go. So in the words of her father, she repeats, “Ok.”
Her father has never been one on details and lingering. So, she tells him that Amber is planning everything and they will be leaving in the morning. She does hate lying to her father, but she cannot tell him that she is leaving with a man she met this weekend. That is a definite no. Even at the age of twenty-two, she is still very much her father’s daughter. The phone conversation is not a long one and she promises that she will email him the details. They say goodbye. Bethany does her best to keep her emotions in check and now the last obstacle to her traveling to Paris is out of the way. Bethany only has to wait and she gets to wait with the most perfect man ever.
Chapter 19
Could It Be?
Sheldon Cooper is Bethany’s favorite TV character. The dynamic between him and Penny is much more interesting than the other characters, even if Penny marries a different man and never had that kind of relationship with Sheldon. The chemistry is just there. And the chemistry between Bethany and Phillip is really there. Because they don’t spend the night fucking, making love, or canoodling under the sheets. No, Bethany and Phillip spend their last evening in Seattle eating really good Thai take out and watching reruns of, none-other, than The Big Bang Theory on TBS.
The two new lovers are already content just being in each other’s company and doing nothing but vegging out in front of the TV. There is the random question. “What district do you live in?”, “Can we walk to the Eiffel Tower?”, or “Will there be a store to buy cereal at?”. For the most part though, Bethany is sure that Phillip will take care of her. She also wants that surprise of the unknown. Knowing too much can be overwhelming. Phillip lives in Paris, he knows Paris.
So, Phillip and Bethany watch their TV, and finish their Thai. Then they both call it an early night for an early flight.
The plane leaves just after eight in the morning. Because it is international, they have to be there by six. It takes an hour to get there and another hour to get dressed. So the alarm is set at four a.m. Of course, Bethany is up at three. She is wide awake and Phillip is sleeping next to her. He is curled into her body, just like a baby spooning her chest. Well, his head is spooning her chest and his eyes are level upon her left nipple. If he opened his eyes, that would be all he would see, just one perked up nipple. Bethany wishes she had put on her t-shirt last night, but Phillip insisted that she sleep naked. He only insisted this because Bethany insisted that he sleep naked. Now Bethany can’t go back to sleep. She is tuned up to go, and she is turned on for sex.
Bethany remains still, or tries to be. She doesn’t want to wake him up to early. She breathes as softly as she can, it all comes out unnaturally. If she breathes slowly her chest bubbles up too much and his head shifts. If she takes shorter breaths, her boobies jiggle. Then she tries to readjust, but all that does is put his cheek on her nipple, and now his twenty-four hour after-shave is tickling the fuck out of her. She is horny as fuck too. The scratchiness of the hairs feels amazing. Bethany’s only choice is to lie there and take it.
The stiff as a log thing is working… until Phillip shifts. His head nuzzles her breast more. His lips are completely touching her nipple now. His outward hand reaches up and touches her right breast. But of course, it is not just a graze. He takes a hold of her in a full-on palm, boob grasp. Bethany groans loudly. She just can’t take anymore. Phillip has to be messing with her. So she calls his name.
“Phillip.” She whispers loudly.
Nothing.
“Phillip.” She uses her softer voice.
Still nothing.
“Phillip!” She all but shouts.
He doesn’t move, but he does wake up. “What?” He moans.
This frustrates Bethany because of course when he speaks it vibrates off the top of her nipple. She can’t help but whimper just slightly. Then she sucks it up and says, “You’re tickling umm… my…” She sighs and continues, “-boob.”
Of course, Phillip opens his eyes. He only has a view of her chest. She can’t decide if he is just staring at her or if he is still a little disoriented, but this ogling last about a minute.
“What are you doing?” She asks him.
“Looking at your tits.”
Bethany has had enough. She pushes him off of her, pulls up her sheet, and turns to the side. “Go back to sleep.”
He is laughing, how can he not? “What’s the matter?”
She grumbles. “Nothing. We still have an hour.”
He doesn’t take that and turns her back over. “Why are you so grumpy?”
She is trying to make a face of irritability, but of course she isn’t really mad. She is just over-sensitized right now. “Nothing.” She repeats.
“Can you not sleep?” He is being too obvious and he knows what is wrong.
“No, I can’t.”
“Are you… excited for the trip?” He questions slowly.
“Yes. But that is not why I can’t sleep.” Bethany cannot believe him and his nonchalance.
“Then why can’t you sleep?” He is really dragging it out now.
Bethany blurts out, “Because you have been fondling my boob with your face for the last twenty minutes.”
You would think Phillip would start laughing, or the very least tease her some more. Instead, he raises his eyebrows and says, “Then let me fix the problem.” He pulls her sheet down and immediately begins kissing on her neck.
Phillips destination is clear. He kisses across her neck, then shifts down and kisses across her collarbone. When he is sure he has kissed that latitude, he moves over to her shoulders. He sucks and nibbles upon the top of her breast. His tongue leaves lashes of wetness over the swells. He dips in between the valley and grazes his teeth along the line between.
Bethany’s hands are already lost, as they try to navigate between grasping her pillow above her and touching him as much as possible. His fingers are expertly maneuvering her nipples, twisting and pinching them just enough to make her crazy. Both of the lovers are grinding their lower halves into each other. They are itching for contact in the most crazed of motions, humping whatever thigh or hip they can contact.
Perhaps skipping sex last night was a bad idea. Or perhaps waking up with each other is the real motivator. When spending all night
touching and cuddling, their unconscious minds go on high alert, and become aware that the person who charges their body is within a few inches to being physically linked and internally coupled. Sex is a wonderful thing. Bethany would have been sorely stupid to have missed it, especially with Phillip as her lover.
This union continues beyond the breasts. His fingers have been replaced with his tongue and her nipples are receiving their favorite toy. While his mouth stays busy, his hands move to her hips and then her thighs. He checks her for readiness. She has been wet and needy since waking up thirty minutes ago. Maybe even longer. Phillip was prepared this time and moved all the usable condoms to the nightstand drawer beside the bed. Note that some of the condoms that Bethany had purchased were not usable as they were either too small or just weird enough that neither wanted to attempt it. A special heating potion condom purchased at a bar does not seem applicable or desirable.
Phillip is quick to get the condom on. He is even quick to line up to her. But he uses a slow controlled movement to enter her. His body feels so right entering her. She stretches and accommodates him. She experiences the brink of pain before reaching the most delicious of pleasures. He kisses her before he makes the first move. His hands move from her hips and to her own hands. They clutch each other, each of her fingers are interlocked between each of his. Then he makes love to her.
The thrusts are slow and steady. He doesn’t rush into the first orgasm. He is making sure she knows that this is more than just short-term lovers in a hotel bed. The slide of his penis, the ridges and curve, blend and caress her inner walls, sending messages through her nerves and straight to her heart. He kisses her again. Her lips are receiving the signals too. Mine. Mine. Mine. He is claiming her with each thrust, with each touch of the mouth, with each press upon her breast, and with how he looks down upon her.
They are back to how they started- her underneath him. The traditional. The missionary. The man lies over woman and is face to face with her. Phillip looks down at Bethany with something resembling love. Bethany takes it, even if it was just supposed to be the weekend. Even, if now, Bethany has another week. Bethany takes her orgasm. She comes with everything she has and gives it to him. Even if it means she is giving him her love.
