by Dee Mann
"What's wrong?" she asked breathlessly.
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.
"We're doing it again," he said softly, his voice quaking from the effort of suppressing his need for her.
She looked up at him, into his eyes.
"We're doing it again," he repeated, and then, in answer to her unspoken question, "We're putting the pleasure first."
He couldn't believe he was actually stopping them but felt her arms encircle him and squeeze as she nodded.
"You're right. You're right. After all I said, after all I blamed you for things, I couldn't even control myself for an hour or two. One kiss and all I wanted was to have you inside me again."
"That's true. But in your defense, you were kissing me, and how could any mere mortal be expected to control herself when tasting the lips of a love god."
She smiled, but it died quickly.
"Is this what our life will be together. Uncontrolled passion all the time?"
"I sure hope so."
He broke the embrace and led her by the hand to the sofa.
"Or, maybe not all the time. But enough of the time."
They sat quietly, her head resting on his shoulder, his arm holding her close.
After a minute, he said, "I don't ever want to lose the way you make me feel when we're together. It's all that keeps me going when we're apart. Just knowing that I'll see you again in a few hours keeps me smiling all day. And the thought of touching you…well…there are times during the day that an image of you will pop into my head, an image of you in the shower, or lying in bed, or walking across the room in your underwear, and I'll get so hot I can't concentrate on my work. Lord help me if I ever have to stand up during one of those episodes."
She laughed softly and smacked him lightly on his thigh. "Is that all you think of me?"
"No baby. You didn't let me finish.
"There are other times, when something will remind me of you, of something you said, something you did that made me feel proud of you, and for a few seconds, the whole world fades away and all I can see in my mind is your face smiling at me. And let me tell you it can lead to some embarrassing moments when it happens during a meeting."
Again he heard her soft laugh, but this time felt her hand caress his chest.
"And then there are the times I think of you for no reason at all other than I love you so much. That only happens a few dozen times a day."
Lisa lifted her head from his shoulder and kissed him on the cheek. Her eyes were moist as she told him how much she loved him, too.
"But things have to change, Rob."
"I know. And they have. That's why I stopped us before. Do you think I would have done that, could have done that, three weeks ago? Right then I wanted you naked more than almost anything in the world. The one thing I want more, though, is to never, ever have to live without you again."
Lisa disengaged herself and sat up. She turned on the sofa to face him, searching his eyes as she crossed her legs and leaned back on the armrest.
"But what can we do, Rob? What happened a little while ago has made me realize how unfair I was to you. We were the way we were because I let us be."
"Maybe. Or partly. But it was mostly me being afraid of what I knew in my heart I really wanted. We were having fun, Lisa, and I didn't know how to move beyond it. Remember that old song by the Eagles, Life in the Fast Lane? In a way, that was us. We were rushing down the freeway and I was too blind to see the exit. You tried to show me at least a half-dozen times, and each time I…"
"You're right," she said, interrupting. "You did what you did. But I let you. And when it got to be too much, I simply took the exit by myself rather than fight for what I really wanted."
There were tears in her eyes again. "If you hadn't done what you did today, I would have walked away from us, Robbie. I would have let myself blame you for everything and walked away. And I think I would have regretted it for the rest of my life."
The tears rolled silently down her cheeks. Rob reached over to wipe them away.
"Stop," he pleaded in a whisper. "Please don't cry. It doesn't matter who did what. That's all in the past. What matters is now, tomorrow, and all the other tomorrows after it. What really matters is us, that there is an us, and that we make sure they'll always be an us."
8:37 PM
When Jillian and Jenna arrived at the restaurant, everyone else was already seated.
Thursday night dinner with the girls had started several years ago, when Jillian, Jenna, and Liz were sophomores. At first, it had been the three of them and Mary Louise Beaumont, a genuine southern belle and friend of Jenna's. Over the years, women had drifted in and out of the weekly gathering which usually numbered eight to ten.
They took turns selecting the restaurant and this week, it was Gloria's turn. No one ever had to wonder what they'd be eating when it was Gloria's turn. She'd grown up on the coast of Maine and loved seafood of all kinds. Her favorite place in Boston was the Legal Seafood at Park Plaice. Gloria insisted the food at that Legal's was "a whale's tail better" than at any of their other locations around town, although no one else could taste any difference.
It appeared most of their friends been waiting for awhile. Gloria, Holly, Shandra, Marie, and Maggie were each working on their second drink while Liz and Marissa had only one half-full glass each in front of them.
All eyes turned to Jillian as she and Jenna approached the table. Before she could even remove her coat, she was peppered with questions about Paul. Obviously, Liz, Shandra, and Marie had been comparing notes and filling in the others.
"Please!"
She held up a hand as she took her seat.
"I just finished my yoga class and must remain focused on my center for a while. My thoughts have to remain relaxed and pure."
This elicited a round of raucous laughter from the whole table, but especially from Jenna.
"Girl, are you forgetting I was there with you. The thoughts you had were anything but pure and the only center you focused on was between your legs."
"Jenna!"
Jillian felt her face start to flush yet again as the laughter renewed.
"Don't play innocent with me, girl."
She proceeded to relate what had happened during yoga class.
"And then Jilli says ‘I am not that kind of girl' and Maureen pats her on the shoulder and says, ‘Of course you are, honey. We're all that kind of girl for the right guy.'"
Laughter rang out again from her audience.
"Well, she's right about that," Maggie said. "Of course, if a man can walk and brushes his teeth he's the right one for me."
Maggie was, by far, the most sexually liberated of the group. She was twenty-nine, soon-to-be-thirty, and considered Sex and the City's Samantha Jones a role model. She once confided that by the time she had turned twenty-four she'd lost count of the number of men she'd slept with.
Although she played well the part of the slut who'd screw every man in sight, she was actually quite choosy about who she let share her bed. So much so that she could honestly say she'd only had one bad experience in the fourteen years since giving her virginity to Billy Fontaine, the boy who had lived across the street.
"Well I think it's the most romantic thing I've heard in a long time," said Holly.
She was twenty-six and the only married member of the group. Although happy in her relationship, a part of her missed the excitement of those chance meetings, first kisses, and new loves. She regularly lost herself in romance novels, much to the benefit of her husband, Jamal, who was always game for any fantasy his wife might want to act out.
"So do I," Marissa agreed, feeling a tinge of jealousy at Jillian's good fortune.
Marissa, a senior at Northeastern University and the youngest of the group at 22, was between boyfriends. She had joined them about eight months ago after a work-study stint at Metro Magazine led to a regular part-time job and a friendship with Marie.
"Where's he tak
ing you?" Holly asked.
"I don't know. When he asked, I told him food was good and after that to surprise me. So I guess we'll be having dinner somewhere."
Shandra had the next question. "Are you planning to do the I'm-not-too-hungry-I'll-just-have-a-salad thing? I know I wouldn't be able to eat if he's really as great as you're making him out to be."
"More important, though," Marie interjected before Jillian could answer, "is…what are you going to wear?"
"Oh! You're right," Jillian said, "I haven't even thought about it."
"What about your red pantsuit?" Liz offered. "You look great in that."
"Yes," agreed Jenna, "or maybe that long black skirt that's slit to the thigh. You could wear it with that lacy white top you keep saving for a special occasion."
The conversation became almost frenzied as the women discussed clothes, shoes, accessories, hair, nails, make-up, what to eat, how to eat, what to talk about, and so much more that after ten minutes of it Jillian's head was spinning.
8:50 PM
Paul was blushing. He'd been blushing on and off since they'd left DHL and each time Priya noticed she broke out in another fit of giggles.
"You're loving this, aren't you?"
"You bet! I can't wait to see what happens tomorrow at work. You better get a handle on your imagination or you'll have to make up some pretty interesting explanations."
Paul groaned. "I know, I know. But every time I look at you I see you…you know."
"Naked on a bed having fun with lefty?"
She watched his already red cheeks burn scarlet.
"Come on, Priya. You have to stop that."
"All right, all right. I'll stop."
She sounded more contrite than she looked.
"I'm being mean and you've been so sweet tonight. I really do appreciate you listening to me, you know. It really did help to hear a man's view."
Earlier, as they walked the half-mile to the restaurant, they talked all the way. The conversation continued during dinner, with frequent breaks for Priya's deliberately embarrassing innuendo, and worse.
Now, as they enjoyed coffee and dessert, Priya was sure her decision to trust Paul had been correct. Over the course of the evening, she confided much of her past, including the men she'd dated and how she felt about meeting, and ultimately losing each of them. She spoke of her loneliness, her difficulty in making female friends. It seemed as if there was nothing too personal to discuss.
As she sipped her coffee, thinking, Priya appeared worried.
"Paul, did I mess things up between us tonight telling you about…?" She lifted her left hand. "I'll never forgive myself if I let having a little fun wreck a really good friendship."
"No, you didn't wreck anything."
"But now you'll always have that image of me in your mind and…"
"Priya, if I tell you something about myself, about guys in general, will you promise not to hold it against me?"
"Of course."
"No, I mean, you have to actually promise. Seriously."
"Okay, I promise not to hold against you whatever you are about to say."
"Right. Well then…Priya, almost every man you meet imagines you naked. Many probably go home at night and dream about you. Or worse, if you know what I mean."
It was Priya's turn to blush.
"That first day, as you struck that pose, I guarantee all three of us were imagining you standing there au naturel. I don't think any of us do it any longer, but once in a while I still wonder. I can't help it. Men can't help it. You're an exceptionally beautiful woman.
"You have this amazing face and an even more amazing body to go with it. A man would have to be dead not to notice you, not to want you based only on your physical attributes.
"But if a guy is lucky enough to get to know you it's even worse! If he finds out how bright, and funny, and talented you are, how decent a person you are, well, he'll imagine himself with you even though he knows he'll never have a chance.
"Those guys who dumped you recently are idiots, Priya. They're little boys with raging hormones and no brains. They scored big by convincing you to go out with them and then all they could think about was a quick piece of ass."
He stopped and shook his head. He appeared to be considering something.
"The only reason I'm telling you what I'm about to tell you Priya, is because you trusted me so much tonight I know I can trust you in return."
Priya's eyebrows arched as her head tilted slightly in curious anticipation.
"Do you remember about two weeks after you started working with us, there was a period where I kept having to leave early, or had some appointment during the day."
When she nodded, he continued.
"I was interviewing for another job. I wanted to leave Davis Phillips so I could ask you out. I was so enamored of you I was having a hard time sitting in the same room and not staring all day. I didn't get the job and I did get over the crush, but that's how much you affect people."
"My gosh, I never realized. I never noticed even a funny look from you."
"And that's the way I wanted it. Especially after what you did and said that first day. But it illustrates the point I've been trying to make this whole time. We can suppress it, we can even hide it well, but men are men and we cannot help wanting a beautiful woman. It doesn't matter that we're in love with someone else, we still feel the urge. That's why so many men cheat on their wives and girlfriends. They feel the desire and go for it. That doesn't excuse them, of course. But those jokes about the little head leading the big head are often true, Priya. Fortunately, they're not always true."
"I can't believe this." She held his eyes. "Are you telling me that all the men in this room right now are fantasizing about doing me?"
"No, of course not. Not all the men. Odds are some of them are gay."
She burst out laughing and reached over to lay her hand on his.
"You, too?" she asked.
"Nah. Right now I'm still focused on you and lefty."
Again she shook with delight.
When the laughter subsided she told him, "All this laughing has made me need to pee. Will you excuse me for a minute. Why don't you see about getting the check."
8:54 PM
The date-talk had shifted from the practical to the hypothetical. Speculation about where he'd be taking her and how they'd get there had grown so fantastic, Jillian was desperate to move the chatter away from her and Paul. She turned to Holly and asked, "So how did you get Jamal to let you out this week."
It was a running joke that Jamal had to be bribed to let his bride out of the house for her night with the girls. Each week, Holly would come up with one outrageous answer or another.
"I told him if he let me go I'd bring you all home tonight for a nine way. The poor guy couldn't even stand up to give me a hug when I left."
"Holy Mr. Happy, girl, you mean that man of yours could satisfy all of us?" Maggie was almost drooling at the thought.
Holly's wicked smile and raised eyebrows started a round of comments that had patrons at nearby tables wondering if they were dining in the company of a group of porn stars.
Speculation about Jamal's length, girth, talent, and ability was still going strong when a party of six across the restaurant rose to leave. On the other side of the now-vacant table, previously hidden from her view by the diners, sat a guy and the most beautiful Indian girl Jillian had ever seen.
Oh…is that him? It looks like him from the side. What's he doing here? With her! Are they on a date? Look at her…she must be a model or something…or an actress…maybe it's not him…maybe its just someone who looks like him from the side.
She shook her head slightly as if to clear it, willing the guy to turn so she could be sure. The stunning girl she could see full on. When she laughed at something the guy said, then reached over and laid her hand on his, she actually became more beautiful.
Jillian's throat was suddenly dry and her chest felt strangely empty
. Again the guy said something and again the girl laughed.
Are they just friends? Business associates? No, they seem too close, too intimate. But it can't be him…it's just a side-view look-alike.
At that moment, the woman rose. Jillian saw the man turn his head to follow her as she walked away.
Oh lord, it is him…getting cozy with…a centerfold or a cover girl or…why would he be chasing me if he has her? Why would he call me…send me flowers…maybe…maybe…
She saw Paul catch the eye of the waiter and make a check mark in the air with his finger. Oblivious now to the discourse around her, she continued to stare at him, her mind racing with questions, for the few minutes it took for the waiter to bring the check and take his credit card.
Liz, who was sitting across from her, glanced over and was startled to see Jillian staring over her shoulder, the color drained from her face.
"Jilli! What's wrong? Are you sick? Are you…"
"It's him," she said, her voice not much more than a whisper.
Liz couldn't hear her over the conversations. She quickly shushed everyone.
"What'd you say, Jilli? I couldn't hear you. Are you okay?"
Everyone's attention focused on Jillian, who was still staring at Paul. The girl was returning to the table.
"It's him," she repeated. "He's here." She paused, then added, "With her."
Everyone followed her gaze in time to see a gorgeous woman rejoin a man at a table across the room.
"Who's here?" Holly asked. "You mean the guy over there with the Playboy model?"
Liz suddenly realized what was happening.
"That's Paul, isn't it? That guy with the knockout is Paul."
Jillian nodded. She watched the waiter return with the credit slip. Paul signed it and pocketed his card and receipt.
Why is this bothering me? What does it matter if he's here with someone else? We've never gone out. Just talked a few times. I have no hold on him, no rights to him, no reason to feel betrayed. But I do. I do. He said all those things to me. And the Callas.
"That's Paul?" Marissa asked. "Wow, he really is cute."
