Behind the Curtain

by BETH KERY

  He winced. He looked like he was in considerable pain.

  “I’m healthy too. That’s not what I’m worried about. What about—”

  “You won’t come in me,” she interrupted. Part of her couldn’t believe she was saying this. But it had been what he’d said earlier—in addition to a whole hell of a lot of lust, of course. “I won’t get pregnant. I want to feel what it’s like without any barriers between us too. I always have, Asher.”

  A muscle ticked in his lean cheek.

  “I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop, once I’m inside you. I’ve never done this before . . . let alone with you,” she thought she heard him mutter under his breath. Yet she couldn’t help but notice that the whole time he spoke of his uncertainty, he stared down hungrily between her thighs.

  “You’ll stop,” she whispered, putting out her arms for him. “I trust you.”

  • • •

  He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve it, but he saw the truth of her words shining like a beacon in her green eyes. She trusted him without a doubt . . . trusted him to taste heaven and then walk away.

  The problem was—the thing he didn’t want to think about at that moment—she hadn’t been correct about what he’d wanted to do to her in those golden, tense seconds. Not entirely, she hadn’t been.

  If she’d accurately guessed his fantasy, she wouldn’t be allowing this.

  The impulse that had come over him had been completely irrational anyway, the crazy impulse of a savage, the residue of the caveman that usually slumbered deep in his twenty-first-century male brain.

  As he came down over her, he honestly couldn’t have said if she’d made a mistake in trusting him or not. He ached so much. He only knew he needed her more in that moment than he’d ever needed anything. This was the kind of sexual hunger that could turn a man into a lunatic . . . or quite possibly kill him, if it wasn’t pacified.

  He guided his cock to her liquid entry. He opened his mouth to tell her it wasn’t too late to change her mind, but nothing came out but a groan at the sensation of her channel squeezing his cockhead. Concentrated excitement tickled at the base of his spine, and he abandoned his feeble attempts at reason.

  When it came to Laila, his need had always been overwhelming.

  He sank into her slowly, grinding his teeth together at the exquisite sensation. She hugged him so tightly . . . like she’d never let go. She was so warm and wet and sweet.

  “Laila,” he muttered in agony as he pressed his balls tightly against her outer sex and she encapsulated every inch of him. He glanced at her face. She stared up at him, her pink lips parted in wonder, her cheeks flushed and glazed with perspiration.

  “This is how it’s supposed to be,” he said. She just nodded, her lush mouth trembling.

  Holding her stare, he began to dip his cock in and out of her. He was deliberate. He forced himself to absorb every sensation. Every stroke felt like it would be his last. He balanced precariously on a ledge between agony and bliss.

  She began to move in synchrony with him in that liquid, sensuous roll of her hips that he loved. She lifted her head off the pillow and stared down between their bodies, watching them fuse. He followed her gaze, gritting his teeth hard at the erotic vision of his naked cock penetrating her, her juices glistening on the naked shaft. The silence seemed to surround them, embrace them, interrupted only by Laila’s soft whimpers. For his part, he held his breath. He had some vague, irrational idea that if he sucked his lungs full of air, he’d combust into a million flaming pieces.

  He came up on his knees on the couch and opened his hands at the back of her thighs. He lifted her legs into the air, urged them wide and began to thrust. She stared up at him as though mesmerized, her firm breasts bouncing slightly as his pelvis smacked into hers.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he said. Distantly, he realized he sounded a little angry. She disarmed him so easily, turned his entire body into a single, quivering, exposed nerve. He realized he could feel her shaking, feel her trembling with his hands and even his pounding cock. She was on the edge. He craved her release, but dreaded it too. He knew he couldn’t survive, naked as he was. Armorless. He’d burst into flame the second she started to come.

  But a heaven like this wasn’t meant to last.

  He held her hips tightly and thrust hard, causing her body to jerk.

  “Jesus,” he groaned miserably. He reached with his thumb and rubbed her lubricated clit. He felt her surge against his fingertip. A huge shudder went through her. He knew he should withdraw, but then he felt it: her heat pouring into him, the exquisite, tiny, rippling convulsions of her vagina as she climaxed. Instead he pumped into her rapidly. It was like fucking fire . . . like rushing between the closing gates of heaven. His balls felt like they were caught in a vise.

  He pulled out of her, a vicious roar ripping at his throat. A fog hazed his consciousness for a moment. When he came back to himself, he was frantically pumping his cock. He shuddered again, and another white, ropy strand of ejaculate jetted onto Laila’s smooth belly. The vision struck him as intensely erotic, and yet wrong somehow.

  He resisted a wild, primal urge to plunge back inside and leave his seed at the deepest reaches of this woman’s body.

  • • •

  He blinked dazedly at the sound of the house phone ringing. His head went up. His face had been planted at the juncture of Laila’s neck and shoulder. Their pressing bodies were wet with his semen.

  He jerked up at the realization.

  “Damn,” he muttered, staring down at her damp belly. Even her lower breasts glistened with his ejaculate. Are you out of your fucking mind?

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice low and a little rough. She lifted her head from a couch pillow when she noticed his anxious expression. She glanced down at her wet stomach. The phone had stopped ringing, but then it started again.

  “None of it went inside me. It’s okay, Asher.”

  “It doesn’t take much,” he stated grimly.

  He stood rapidly from the couch, the abrupt action making him feel a little light-headed. Or maybe what had just happened, that inexplicable, intense rush of primal possessiveness, was what had left him dizzy in its wake. He jerked up his pajama bottoms.

  “Let me get you something. Don’t move,” he muttered, stalking toward the hallway. He wouldn’t allow his brain to focus on what he’d just done . . . the crazy things he’d just been feeling and thinking. He returned a few seconds later and handed her a towel from the bathroom. She sat up.

  “Aren’t you going to get that?” she asked him uneasily.

  He blinked, breaking his mesmerized stare from her naked body gilded with sunlight and his semen.

  “Yeah,” he muttered thickly, making a beeline for the phone. He needed to rein in his brain . . . bring himself back into the present. Into reality.

  Because he’d sure as hell checked out of it during those moments on that couch with Laila.

  • • •

  Laila watched him as he picked up the receiver. His expression as he’d stared at his semen on her body had alarmed her a little. He’d been shocked at what they’d just done . . . at having sex without using protection.

  She was pretty surprised herself. But her disbelief didn’t begin to approximate what she’d seen on Asher’s face just moments ago. It had been something close to horror. He’d been stunned that he’d allowed himself to be so vulnerable with her, that he’d let his guard down, given the inevitable impermanence of their affair.

  She heard him curse. She finished drying herself and stood, pulling Asher’s bunched-up T-shirt down over her.

  “No, it’s okay. You can send him up.” Asher glanced back at her. “I just completely forgot he was coming by, that’s all.”

  “That was the doorman,” he said a moment later as he hung up the phone. “Rudy’s downstair
s. He’s on his way up.”

  She blinked. “Not Rudy, Rudy.” He nodded once. “Rudy Fattore . . . from Crescent Bay?” she asked in amazement.

  “He’s from Los Angeles, nowadays. I canceled dinner with him the last few nights because—” He gave her a swift glance, and she understood he’d canceled because he’d gone to see her at the club both nights. “I told him I wasn’t feeling great, and suggested he come by this morning. I forgot about it. With everything.” She saw his gaze shoot to the couch behind her. His mouth tightened. “I would have made another excuse just now, but he flew in from L.A. just to see me for a few days. I didn’t want to—”

  “No, it’s all right. Of course he should come up. I’ll just go and shower, if that’s all right?” She edged toward the hallway. She felt awkward, beyond the unexpected situation of Rudy Fattore suddenly springing out of her past, just like Asher had. Something seemed wrong with Asher. He was regretting the intense intimacy they’d just shared. She just knew it. She hesitated. “I’d like to see him again. Is it . . . okay if I come out after I shower?”

  “Of course.”

  She nodded once, her uneasiness escalating. She started toward the hallway.

  “Laila?”

  Her heart jumped and she turned around anxiously.

  “Do you remember how Rudy wanted to be a celebrity photographer back in Crescent Bay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, he became one. A pretty major one, actually. He’d love to get a photo of Yesenia. That’s why we first showed up at the club on Thursday night,” he explained tensely.

  “Oh.” She glanced nervously toward the foyer and the front door. Rudy would arrive any second.

  “He won’t get that Yesenia and Laila from Crescent Bay are the same person.” A loud knock resounded from the front door. She jumped. “And I’m not going to tell him,” Asher continued in a firm, hushed tone. “So don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll just tell him we met up accidentally yesterday. You’re an account manager for Microsoft, just like you tell your parents.”

  “Where?” she whispered.

  “Where what?” he asked, looking around when Rudy knocked louder.

  “Where did we meet?”

  He glanced back at her.

  “The subway, of course,” he replied with a small smile.

  • • •

  She felt self-conscious walking out into the living room fifteen minutes later, fully dressed after her shower. But she’d forgotten Rudy’s no-nonsense friendliness and charm.

  “Well, will you look at that,” he said, spinning around when she said hello. “It’s Laila Barek. I don’t believe it.”

  She laughed. “Didn’t Asher tell you I was here?”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t believe him. I just figured he’d grown a little delusional in his old age, wishing up some old fantasies from his past,” Rudy said bluntly, approaching her. Laila put out her hand to shake in greeting, but Rudy wouldn’t have it. He gave her a big bear hug, making her shriek in surprise. He lifted her feet several inches off the floor and swung her around. She snorted with laughter, noticing Asher’s mildly amused, forbearing expression over Rudy’s shoulder. “Look at you. You grew up good,” Rudy told her, giving her a frank assessment once he’d set her back on the carpet. “Asher says you live in Chicago now?”

  “Yeah. With Tahi. You remember my cousin Tahi, right?”

  Rudy’s expression flattened. He looked very much the same to her, with the exception of a few added pounds, a slightly receding hairline and his expensive-looking clothing.

  “Tahi is here? In Chicago?”

  “Yeah. We have a place on the Near North Side.”

  “Is she still single?” Rudy demanded.

  Laila nodded, grinning.

  “Well what are we waiting for?” Rudy asked disbelievingly, spinning on his heels to look at Asher. “Get your clothes on, Ash. We’re gonna go find that girl and have ourselves some fun.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Although Rudy’s plan sounded like a good time, Laila had her doubts as to it panning out. She tried to text and call Tahi while Asher showered and dressed, but her cousin didn’t respond immediately.

  “She’s probably getting ready or something,” Laila explained, wondering privately if her cousin had a date that Sunday.

  “No problem,” Rudy insisted once Asher had rejoined them, looking mouthwatering in a pair of jeans, casual boots, a button-down shirt, gray hoodie pullover sweater and a rugged brown jacket. “We’ll just go over to your place and hunt her down.”

  Laila gave Asher a doubtful glance.

  “Will Tahi kill us for barging in on her?” Asher asked her with a small smile, seemingly reading her mind.

  “I don’t think so,” Laila replied uncertainly.

  “Because if not, I’d love to see your place,” Asher said.

  She couldn’t refuse him after he’d said that. She couldn’t refuse him much of anything, apparently.

  They drove to her condo in Rudy’s rental car. Rudy protested when instead of getting in the passenger seat, Asher got into the backseat with Laila.

  “What am I, your chauffeur or something?” he complained. Asher didn’t bother to reply, just put his arm around Laila and pulled her against him. Rudy rolled his eyes in the rearview mirror.

  “Jesus. Some things never change,” he said in a long-suffering, beleaguered tone before he started the engine.

  Laila was a little worried as she unlocked their front door. What if Michael was there with Tahi? That would be awkward.

  “I’ll just go and look for her—” she told Asher and Rudy as she led them into her living room.

  “Tahi!” Rudy bellowed, making Laila start before she ever got to the hallway. “Get your butt out here, girl.”

  Laila heard something drop heavily onto the floor in the vicinity of Tahi’s bedroom.

  “Tahi, it’s me. Everything’s okay,” Laila called anxiously, all too aware of how shocked Tahi would be hearing a man yelling at her in their condominium. A few seconds later, Tahi came rushing into the living room wearing a robe with a towel wrapped around her head.

  “Laila? What’s—” Her brown eyes grew to the size of saucers when she focused on all three of them standing there. Rudy started toward her.

  “Rudy Fattore?” she exclaimed. A huge grin broke across her face. Rudy grabbed her hand.

  “None other. Come on, woman. What are you doing? Put on your dancing shoes. Let’s go have some fun,” Rudy urged. Much to Laila’s amazement, the two of them started a two-step at the exact same moment. Tahi laughed out loud as Rudy spun and dipped her so energetically, her towel fell off her head.

  Laila glanced up at Asher, her grin widening when she saw the amusement and warmth gleaming in his eyes as he watched the other two. For a moment, it was like nothing had changed since that summer eight years ago.

  And yet . . . everything had changed. Now they were free . . . free to spend a sunny autumn day together. Free to dance. Free to laugh. She put her arms around Asher’s waist, hugging him close. He held her tight in return. Turning her nose into his sweatshirt, she inhaled his scent, feeling his hardness. His strength. She listened happily to Tahi and Rudy laughing and catching up in sporadic, breathless phrases while they kept dancing. Asher’s hand cupped the back of her head, and she looked up at his handsome face.

  Free to love?

  A lump formed at the back of her throat as she stared into his eyes. His head dipped, his mouth brushing hers. Maybe? At least for these sweet, precious moments they were free . . . perhaps even for that.

  • • •

  That Sunday was one of those days that would remain forever vivid and happy in her memory. It was a beautiful October day: crisp and cool, but warm in the sunshine. The trees in Lincoln Park were a riot of yellow, gold, red and orange. They had
lunch at Zizi’s and then walked over to the zoo. Afterward, they strolled through the park and came upon a little Oktoberfest. A band was playing oompah music interspersed with some modern covers. Asher and Laila sat in the grass and watched as Rudy led Tahi in a bouncy polka.

  “Rudy better watch it, or he’s going to yank her arms off,” Asher joked.

  Laila grinned. “I’d forgotten how much fun they had together in Crescent Bay. I haven’t seen Tahi smile and laugh so much in years.”

  He took her hand in his and rested it on his jeans-covered thigh. He wore a pair of sunglasses, so she couldn’t see his eyes. “You’ve been smiling a lot today. Just an observation.”

  “That’s because I’m happy. I’m with you,” she murmured. His sunglasses blocked much of his expression. She, on the other hand, knew her heart was on display in her eyes. She couldn’t help it.

  His smile faded slightly and he leaned forward. Their lips met and clung.

  “What do you say we ditch those two and go back to my place? I don’t like sharing you. I want you all to myself,” he muttered next to her lips a moment later.

  “No, we shouldn’t.” She noticed his frown and laughed. “You said you’ve hardly seen Rudy since he’s come to Chicago. It would be rude.”

  “I only have so much time here, Laila. I care about Rudy a lot, but I won’t let him stand in the way of us being together.” She leaned back a few inches, studying every precious line and rugged angle of his face. What he’d said, and the seriousness with which he’d said it, had sobered her. “I suppose I’m being selfish. Again,” he said.

  “No, I wasn’t thinking that,” she whispered.

  “Will you spend it with me?”

  “What?”

  “Will you spend as much time with me as you can before I leave for London?”

  She hesitated. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to—she wanted to be with him with every fiber of her being. It was his putting it so explicitly into words. Maybe she’d been imagining it would be easier if they’d just fallen into it all, spending every hour they could together impulsively, just letting it unfold without a plan. That way, she wouldn’t have to deliberately think about how it would feel when they had an ocean separating them.