“You hit the jackpot, Aunt Ash. Come look!”
Sure enough, in the middle of the living room, were three big boxes, and one tiny one. Val looked at her expectantly. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” answered Ashley, completely truthful, but she liked surprises, the good ones, not the bad ones—she wasn’t stupid. This looked to be a good surprise, and she hoped against hope that the surprise provider was the one man who hadn’t called. If he hadn’t called and sent her stuff instead, well, she would be big and forgive him.
“Can I open one?” asked Brianna.
“Sure,” Ashley replied, hoping it wasn’t anything unsuitable for an eight-year-old, or more likely, something unsuitable that Brianna hadn’t seen yet.
Brianna tore into a box and pulled out a small LCD television, then a DVD player, a can of buttered popcorn, and one gift-wrapped box, labeled, Do Not Open Until 11 p.m.
Brianna was entranced. “Who’re they from, Ashley?”
Ashley made a goofy face as if this was no big deal, but Ashley was entranced as well. “A friend.”
Brianna wasn’t swayed, neither was Val. “A TV is always a big deal.”
“It’s a little TV. Almost tiny.”
“Can I have it?” Brianna chirped, in her extra-angelic voice.
“No,” Ashley said, clutching the package close, choosing now to impart discipline, mainly because David made her headily selfish.
Brianna scowled, not used to Aunt Ash saying no. “Please?” she asked, blinking her big puppy-dog eyes ever so sweetly.
Ashley stood firm. “Sorry, kid. This is all mine. Someday you’ll be grown up, and you can selfishly deny the small children in your life. It’s the circle of life. Get used to it now.”
Brianna made a face, but she knew she was beat. “Fine.” She stomped to her room with extra force. That little bit she had inherited from Val.
Before the really difficult questions began, Ashley gathered her boxes. “I’m going to go try this out,” she said, scooting the tower of cardboard down the hallway.
Whistling to herself, she cleared a spot on her dresser for the TV and DVD and stared way too long at the single gift-wrapped package. There was a hesitant knock at the door, and Ashley stowed away the gift, surprised that it was Val, and not Brianna. Hesitant knocks weren’t usually her style.
“So, quite a haul there…” Val started, waiting expectantly for Ash to chime in with the answer.
“It’s not a big deal. A bet I won a few weeks ago. I had forgotten,” Ashley lied like there was no tomorrow. Once the truth about David was out there, there wasn’t much she could hide from Val, and for a few more days, a few more weeks, maybe a few more months, she wanted to keep her and David’s relationship simple and reduce the chance for failure. Having Val know that David lived in New York increased the failure-quotient possibility by a factor of a gazillion.
“You were never a good liar, Ash.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Lying, much?”
Ashley stared at the three boxes, and knew that it was the moment that she had dreaded, but it was the moment she couldn’t put off any longer. Val should know, and hopefully, if there was a merciful God, it wouldn’t be a problem. “It’s from a man. I’ve been seeing him for a while.”
Val rolled her eyes. “That’s it? Why didn’t you say something? I think that’s awesome. You need to get out more. Get laid. Relax. I’m very happy for you.”
And wow, that was so much easier than she had expected. “Thanks.”
“Tell me about him,” Val said, pulling up a chair. “What’s his name, what does he look like, and most importantly, does he fully understand the nuances of a man’s pinnacle role in a woman’s sexual fulfillment?”
“David. He’s tall, brown hair with a cowlick in the back. Good eyes, smart eyes. Nicely built, and yes.”
Val laughed, and it was so nice to hear her laugh. “Sox or Cubs? Which is it? If he goes for the Sox, I’ll have to change my mind.”
“I know he’s not a Sox fan. Not sure about the Cubs, though.”
Her sister shrugged it off with a wave of the hand. “Well, I like his taste in presents. Now Brianna can watch cartoons and I can come back here and watch my movies with you.”
Oh, peachy. Ashley smiled. “Sounds great.”
Val stood up, she knew about David, and all was still right with the world. One day at a time, and today had been a great one. “You don’t have to hide these things, or skulk around. Honestly, I’m good, and I’m glad that you’re good, too. It’s nice we can all be at a good place, together.”
“It is nice,” she agreed.
“Thanks for the help yesterday, sis. I’m so clueless about these things.”
“You’re not that clueless, Val. Sometimes you know exactly what you’re doing.” Her gaze lifted, met her sister’s evenly. “You have to start taking charge. I won’t always be there to bail you out.”
Immediately Val panicked. “What are you saying, Ash? Are you deserting me now? Thirteen months sober and time’s up, I’m on my own—”
Ashley held up a hand. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
“You’re giving me a heart attack,” Val muttered. “On some days, I think I’ve got everything under control, and then, it’s like the devil whispering to me. You’re my role model, you know? I look at you, and think, if I screw up, Ash’s going to be mad, and it helps me walk the line. You’re my rock.”
Ashley withheld her sigh, resigning herself to the role of the rock. “You’re doing great.” Then, because even rocks needed their alone time, she rubbed her eyes. “How much longer before dinner? Maybe I’ll take a nap. I’m beat.”
Val was not fooled. “Phone sex with the new dude, right? You don’t need to protect me. When do I get to meet him?”
“Soon. I think he’ll be here for the show.” She hoped.
“Okay, as long as he treats you right.”
“So far, so good. Call me when dinner’s ready.”
“Thanks, Ash. Every night I tell God I don’t deserve you, but I’m so very glad you’re here.”
AT ELEVEN O’CLOCK, her cell rang, just like she knew it would. It was David, mysterious giver of presents.
“Hello,” he said, his voice filled with anticipation. He was waiting for her to acknowledge his generosity.
“Hi. How was your day?” It was torment mainly because she liked to know she was keeping him on the edge. David McLean, on the edge, was pretty much the most fun she’d had all day, and today had been a great day.
“I had a good day. Yours?” Now, anticipation was morphing into something more challenging. Avid curiosity. Ashley nearly laughed.
“Good,” she told him calmly. “So, anything new?”
“No. You?”
Oh, he was near to breaking. She could hear it. Just one more minute. “How was work? What city are you in?”
“A large metropolis known as Manhattan.”
Finally, she stopped, because it seemed cruel to go on. “I got the boxes.”
“What happened to soft-hearted Ashley? I miss her, she would never tease me like this. So, did you open them?”
“Only the ones I was supposed to,” she answered primly.
“Obedient little minx, aren’t you?”
“Not that obedient. Don’t get crazy.”
“So you opened the little one?”
“No,” she admitted, since deep in her heart she was an obedient little minx.
“Ha. You can open it now.”
“What’s the magic word?”
“Please.”
She smiled and tore off the paper, finding her very own copy of a Halloween DVD, the original. “That’s so sweet. It’s not every man that gives a woman a movie about a knife-wielding serial killer.”
“That’s your bloodthirsty taste, not mine.”
“Still, I think it’s nice. Thank you.”
“Well, go ahead, put it in the player.”
&n
bsp; “I’m not going to watch it now. I’m going to talk to you.”
“No, you can watch it. I owe it to you.”
“That’s no fun, David.”
“No, I bought a copy for me, too. We can do movie by phone. I’ve never seen this.”
“You’ve never seen Halloween? That’s un-American.”
“I actually purposefully avoided it up until now because I consider myself a sensitive man.”
Ashley smothered her giggle. “You’re really going to watch it?”
“I am. For you, my darling, anything.”
She put the DVD in the player, and pushed the play button. “I want you to know that I told Val about you today. She took it well.”
“I told you. You should listen to me more. I’m always right.”
Ashley popped the lid on the popcorn as the eerie theme song filtered through the room. “I know. Okay, we’re on….” The credits flashed by, and the opening scenes began to show a young couple making love, caught in the throes of forbidden teenage passion. Ashley had forgotten about the opening of the movie, and she coughed twice.
David, of course, was not as discreet. “Oh, now wait a minute. This is so unfair. I have to sit here and watch someone else get laid? Oh, not the shirt, not the shirt, she’s taking off the shirt, Ashley. This is completely unfair. I’m alone here, and while I love my hand, it’s to be used only in case of emergencies. This should not be an emergency. I’m doing this for you.”
Slowly she lifted a piece of popcorn to her mouth. “Shh…They’re about to get whacked.”
“Really? Good. There is some justice after all.”
One more reason to love David McLean. “You talk during movies, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t. Not usually. I’ll shut up now.”
THERE WERE THREE LONG, torturous weeks before she could fly out to New York, in which time she had:
1) Outlined and communicated the show’s challenges to Horatio, Mariah and Enrique, who were “stressed,” “wowed” and “underwhelmed,” in that order.
2) Lined up ongoing coverage from Chicago Today and Chicago This Morning, Chicago Tomorrow and Chicago At Night.
3) Increased sales at the State Street store by an eye-boggling thirty-three percent.
4) Got Val on a budget.
5) Helped Brianna with her school project on global warming and catastrophic climate change—i.e., a tornado in a plastic soda bottle.
6) Watched Friday the 13th, parts 1, 2, 3 and 4 remotely with David.
7) Had unsatisfactory phone sex on what was becoming a nightly basis.
David was right. A hand could only go so far. Ashley had upgraded to a vibrator, a turbo-charged device with seven attachments, which did nothing to alleviate said frustration. So by the time she got on the plane to New York her entire female parts were in such twisted misery that she didn’t need the bunny slippers. Amazingly, severe sexual frustration and lurid fantasies could kill most phobias, or at least push them aside in favor of bigger, rawer, more stimulating thoughts.
The flight was total misery when she imagined him naked, pounding into her, over and over. If she kept her thighs clenched tight enough, it was almost—almost—enough. By the time he picked her up outside the arrivals gate, she was a package of C4 just waiting for the right fuse.
Her hands jerked him close, planted a long one on him, and soon, he was getting the vivid picture that her tongue was painting in long, meaningful strokes. She could tell because he was expanding nicely between her thighs. Men could be so shamelessly easy, a completely hypocritical thought, but she was too sexually frustrated to care about being honorable. There was a time for honor, and a time to get laid.
“I need sex, David. I’ve sat scrunched in that tiny seat, and all I wanted was to have you naked, buried between my legs, hammering inside me, over and over and over and over….”
The very smart man stared, and then took a big, cleansing breath. “I have an idea,” he said, grabbed her hand and pulled her down three flights of stairs. Eventually, they were in the long hallway of an international terminal filled with passengers.
“Where are we going?” she needed to ask, not seeing how this was going to help her painful situation. “Isn’t there a bathroom or something?”
“Security,” he answered. “Trust me.”
After passing El Al, Aeroflot, Aer Lingus and some other airline she didn’t recognize, they were at the end of the hall, a lone gate proclaiming Pan Pacific. The kiosk was deserted, a high wall keeping the gate partly out of view.
His mouth took hers, and he lifted her on the ticket counter, but Ashley wasn’t convinced.
“Are we alone?”
“As good as it’s going to get. Pan Pac, they tanked.” His hands climbed under her shirt, shoving her bra aside. “Overpriced. Price of fuel killed them,” he said, and then his mouth settled on her breast.
“What about cameras? Aren’t there cameras here?”
He lifted his head. “I don’t know. I don’t care. Do you care? Please don’t care.”
She smiled wickedly and he lowered his head. From that moment on, Ashley closed her eyes, her blood pumping to the even pulls of his mouth, his tongue. Her hips started to clock in rhythm, and he spread her thighs, pressing two fingers inside her.
Oh, yeah.
She grabbed his jaw, pulled his mouth against hers and locked her legs against his waist, pressing, rubbing, doing whatever it took to make her body feel better. He groaned, angling her legs down until she was poised right…right…there.
Magically, efficiently, gloriously he had brought a condom, and with one hard thrust the world turned bright rainbow colors.
“I missed you,” she mumbled at one particularly poignant thrust, and David grunted in acknowledgment. Sometimes words weren’t necessary. His hands slid beneath her ass, pulling her off the counter, their bodies coming undone, and she moaned until he turned her around, pressed her stomach against the counter, and oh, oh, oh, this was so much better. So perfect. He was hard and thick and she could feel his body hot against hers, his skin slick with sweat. In the distance, the announcer was cancelling someone’s flight, but here, Ashley was starting to fly.
His hands slid up, cupping her breasts, squeezing her nipples tight, not gentle. The blunt shove of his hips was not gentle, but the hard bursts of pleasure were killing her in the best way possible.
“There. Faster. Need to do. Faster.” Her voice was almost to breaking; Ashley was almost to breaking.
“Faster works,” he murmured against her neck, and that was the last rational thought she had. Her hands dug into the smooth plastic of the counter, finding nothing to grip but a hard ledge, and she held on, absorbing the rippling power that was breaking her in two.
Her eyes drifted closed and she could feel his hands, his cock, holding her, filling her, and just as her orgasm was about to…there, she shoved her hips back, forcing him deeper into her womb.
For a minute her body absorbed the shock waves. He covered her with himself, his mouth pressed tiredly beneath her ear. His chest heaved in great waves, and she smiled, exhausted. Marvelously sated, but exhausted.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” he whispered, his breath slowly adjusting to normal. When the last of her climax faded, and her legs could actually support her weight, she turned.
Discreetly, she adjusted her skirt, and tucked her hair behind her ear. David was fixing his clothes, but the shirt, it still wasn’t right.
Ashley reached out, tucked in the side, then admired her work. “It was too obvious,” she said.
“Men know anyway.”
“Really?”
“Trust me. Guys know. Where to?”
“Your apartment,” she stated firmly.
“This is new. Sex at the gate, sleeping at my place…” He took her face in his hands. “From bunny slippers to a dominatrix whip. Could be fun.”
Ashley wagged a schoolmarm finger at him. “Don’t get crazy.”
“This isn’t my crazy face. This is my optimistic face. So why the change, assuming you don’t have peekaboo leather hidden in your carry-on.”
“State Street is up thirty-three percent over last month. I’m basking in the glow of my own success. I felt you deserved to bask in my success as well.”
“I’m completely unsurprised.”
She liked his unsurprisedness, the way he was looking at her with what a less confident woman might consider pride. “Yes, I’m completely unsurprised, too. Let’s go home. You can pleasure me more.”
LATER IN THE AFTERNOON, they took a cab over to Brooklyn and David watched Ashley work Enrique over with disturbing enthusiasm. There was something new about Ashley today. Something that kept drawing his eye. She was more sure of herself, she didn’t have the shell-shocked post-divorced look anymore—one that he suspected he still carried around inside. Even Enrique was sucking up to her, and when she told the designer about the deadlines and shipping arrangements for the show, Enrique began talking about his newest idea, a liquid jersey dress with a keyhole twisted-bodice, whatever the hell that was.
When Ashley nodded and smiled, Enrique sighed.
Yeah, David knew how he felt.
After they left the store, Ashley’s fingers curled over his.
“He’s eating out of your palm. If your top had been cut half an inch lower, you could have turned him sexually.”
“Are you jealous of a gay man? That’s so sweet.”
David gritted his teeth. “It’s not jealousy. I understand how the male brain thinks, what its priorities are.”
“Even the homosexual male brain?”
“They have a dick, they have sperm. Some truths are universal. And don’t call me sweet.”
She didn’t call him sweet, but her smile said it. Honestly, he didn’t mind. “We going to walk across the bridge, or take a cab home?” Home. He liked the way the word rolled off his tongue.
“No walking. We’re cabbing it, today.”
“Feeling wimpy?”
“Nope. Just happy.”
IT WAS SOMEWHERE long after midnight, and they were still awake. The Ring DVD was playing, but David didn’t really care who got killed or how much blood was spilled. There was no sight that could be better than the one before his eyes. Ashley Larsen in his bed. He liked the feel of her there, the new scents that came with her. She was leaving on Sunday, but the pictures in his mind, the memories in his brain, would stay.
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