Messalina: Devourer of Men

by Zetta Brown

  “The Next Day”

  I wake up the next morning not knowing what time it is. When my eyes focus I see the window and sunlight, but still don’t know where I am.

  Déja vú? This has happened before, hasn’t it? I decide to carry out the dream scenario and shift to touch myself.

  Yes! I got it! The dull but telltale, “freshly fucked” ache between the legs. This is great!

  Smiling smugly, I run a hand over the swell of my belly and rest it on top of my pussy only to meet Jared’s hand already there. His leg lies over mine and I turn my head to the left to see him asleep on his back, one arm covering his eyes. Sleep makes his face look even paler in contrast to the dark stubble of his morning shadow.

  His chest rises and falls in deep, even breaths and his nipples are two rosy pearls standing at attention, making me want to tease them with my tongue. But I resist and let my gaze continue its journey down, following the faint line of hair that divides his torso in two and creates a slight whorl around his navel. That’s when I see it.

  Lying dormant, but intimidating nonetheless, is the mighty organ that commands as much respect as the master who wielded it so easily. An active evening has not diminished its size much despite lying limp against Jared’s thigh. At rest, his cock has a soft pink cast and sleeps like a baby, completely the opposite of the dusk-colored alter ego when preparing for battle.

  His cock must’ve suspected my contemplating it, because it twitches and jerks in my direction. Jared sighs and shifts closer to me.

  He flexes the fingers of his right hand, giving me an intimate squeeze. I prop myself up on my elbows to get a look at the man’s handiwork. The colors are still bright, but the silhouetted woman diving between my breasts and the “flames of passion” emanating from between my thighs is smeared beyond recognition.

  With another flex of his hand between my legs, his fingers start searching, snaking through the soft grass of hair until they find my entrance. I lie down, raising my right knee, and arch my back slightly to give him access. We both moan as his fingers reach their target. I place my hand on top of his, pressing it closer. Again, I look at Jared and see he no longer has his arm over his eyes, but they’re still closed.

  And he’s smiling.

  He strokes me, playing me better than a virtuoso. Soon he has me lifting my hips off the bed to let his fingers go deeper. For several minutes this continues until I can’t take it anymore, but instead of letting him get a quick orgasm out of me, I roll onto my stomach making his hand fall away.

  He reacts quickly by climbing on top of me and pushing my hair out of the way to kiss the back of my neck. His cock is awake, too, and I feel it press the base of my back. He lifts up slightly to push his penis down until the tip nudges my opening and starts to go in.

  “Wait,” I say, holding up a hand. “Before you go any further, what’s my name?”

  “Evadne!” He laughs incredulously.

  “Just checking. You may proceed.”

  He can’t see my grin with my face buried in the pillow. Still chuckling, he enters me smoothly and penetrates deep, making me catch my breath.

  “Just checking,” he mimics, kissing my neck again.

  His arms encircle me, one going around my waist, the other just above my chest and around my shoulders. He squeezes me tight, as once again, he stretches me to my limit. He sets a less urgent pace this time and I’m grateful. I can’t believe how sore I am. Even his steady, slow movements make me wince and he notices.

  “You alright? You want me to stop?” He kisses my shoulder.

  “Good God, no,” I moan and he tightens his grip on me and I relish being crushed into something soft and yielding by the firmness of a man’s body. My excitement builds as we slowly rock along. I grip my hidden mouth around Jared’s cock and he growls like a prehistoric beast when he comes. He bites my earlobe and then whispers.

  “Good morning, Eva.”

  * * * *

  It’s mid-morning when we finally roll out of bed and I take the opportunity to see what’s left of the designs painted on my back in the bathroom mirror. Jared had created an ouroboros, a serpent eating its own tail, in black, red, and yellow. It reminds me of a Maori image. It’s abstract, attractive, and when I remember how quickly he created it, I whistle.

  “It’s lovely. Shame I have to wash it off.” I’m still looking over my shoulder at my reflection when he rises from where he sat on the edge of the bed to come near. His hands stroke down my back, his fingers tracing the snake in its coiled design.

  “You’ll never be able to reach.” His eyes meet mine in the reflection and their soothing, hypnotic color engulfs me. I fancy I can see into him, way beyond the surface. I don’t think I was meant to see that far, because he breaks our gaze to kiss the top of my head. When I try to hug him, he grabs my hands and steps away.

  “Come on,” he says. “Let me help you.”

  * * * *

  There’s no telling how much water we wasted showering together. After twenty minutes we decide to do some bathing. Later, standing in front of the vanity, Jared wipes the condensation off the mirror and I dry my hair. I’ve wrapped a towel around me. He doesn’t bother with such modesty.

  Standing beside each other at the double sink, we brush our teeth in tandem. It’s a bit awkward because this is a new level of intimacy for me. When I get ready to spit, I look up to see him watching me. I stop. So does he.

  “Considering how intimate we’ve been,” he struggles to say, “Why feel shy about brushing your teeth?”

  “Well,” I say, smiling back, “It’s the spitting that I find a bit rude.”

  “That’s nothing.” He turns on the faucet. “You should hear me being rude after eating refried beans.”

  I try not to laugh but my mouth is ready to burst with toothpaste, saliva, and all the other things that come with tooth brushing—and he’s staring at me again.

  “What’s the matter, Eva?” He wriggles his eyebrows at me.

  “I want to spit.” My voice is garbled.

  “So spit.”

  “No. You first, then look away.”

  “Embarrassed? C’mon, girl, spit!” Then he gives me an evil leer. “Or do you prefer to swallow?”

  My mouth is burning and I want to laugh and cry. Instead I whimper. “Jared . . . ”

  “OK, we’ll go together on three. One . . . two . . .” He bends over his sink and I copy him. “Three!”

  I spit. He doesn’t, so I remove the wet towel covering me and slap his bare, wet ass.

  “I see you prefer to swallow.”

  * * * *

  Once dressed, we go downstairs to The Terrace Restaurant. There aren’t many people about. I give Sidney a wave as we go through the lobby and he gives me a smile and nod of approval.

  “Making friends already, I see,” Jared says and I smile.

  Jared has the physique of a basketball player, tall but sort of beefy too. Today he wears a black blazer, white shirt, and jeans with cowboy boots. He’s stylish and casual, but it’s hard not to notice him as soon as he walks into a room. Right now is no exception, so I just stand beside him and bask in his glory, trying not to look self-satisfied.

  The hostess leads us to a table and a few minutes later a waiter takes our order.

  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave you again after we finish,” Jared says halfway through our meal. “But don’t worry. There’s someone I want you to meet. In fact, she agreed to kee
p you entertained today.”

  “Is that so?” I say, cautiously. “That’s mighty generous of her.”

  “She’s that kind of gal,” he says and winks.

  I try to put my next question as casually as possible. “Is she an ex?”

  He’s putting marmalade on a buttered point of toast, but I see him trying to suppress a smile.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh.” I reach for the pepper mill. “Maybe I’ll get an unbiased opinion of you out of her.”

  “I doubt it.” He takes a bite of toast and chews slowly before leveling his eyes on me in the same predatory way that nailed me hours before. “I can guarantee excellent testimony.”

  * * * *

  When Jared tells me the name of his friend, I couldn’t believe it. Talley Monroe, mystery writer and New York Times bestseller, lives in the University Park area of Dallas. I’ve read and enjoyed her books.

  And she is Jared’s ex.

  The street Talley lives on consists of old trees and a hodgepodge of homes representing various eras, starting with the Victorian. Most of them are genuine whereas others have the ersatz antiqueness of a 1890s house built in the 1990s.

  But Talley’s home is a genuine A-frame structure from the 1930s with dove-gray painted brick and white trim. A small, curved, gravel drive and grass so green it looks painted complete the picturesque setting. As soon as Jared pulls the rental car into the drive, the front door opens and Talley Monroe steps onto the porch. We get out of the car.

  “Hey, Miss Firecracker!”

  “J. D.! You bastard, c’mere!”

  I will put Talley in the tall, blonde, Scandinavian goddess category. She wears flat shoes but stands nearly eye-to-eye with Jared. Her long, sand-colored hair is pinned into a loose roll. Two platinum- blonde highlights frame her face and complement her tanned skin.

  The soft pink blush on her cheeks comes from a healthy complexion and not artificial means. Her eyes are pale blue, almost gray, but not icy, they exude warmth similar to the kind I get when Jared looks at me.

  She wears a white scarf around her neck, loose white pants, and a pale yellow tank top showing off well-toned arms. I make it a point to appear confident in my navy-blue pedal pushers, pinafore top, and espadrilles, but I feel all that’s missing is an all-day sucker stuffed in my mouth as I meet the darling of the country club set.

  Jared and Talley make an attractive pair. They hug and kiss, but it’s Talley who notices me first.

  “This must be the poor girl who has to put up with you now.”

  She nudges away from Jared to reach out to me. Her large, soft hand envelops mine and it’s cool despite the sticky weather.

  “How do you do?” I smile.

  “‘How do you do?” she teases. “You’re just so proper, ain’t you, girl?”

  “I try to be.”

  “Yeah. In public, at least.” Jared snorts. “Get her in a dark theater and she goes wild.”

  Talley grins. “Well, there’s no need for all that. Here in the South we just say, ‘hey.’ Hey, Eva.”

  “Hey, Talley.”

  “The girl catches on quick. I like that.”

  “She’s a doctor.”

  “You can’t be a doc of psychology; otherwise you’d steer clear of him.”

  I give a small chuckle, not really sure whether to take her seriously or not.

  “You two come inside before we all melt.”

  Jared shakes his head. “No, Talley, I can’t. I got a meeting at the Prestonwood Country Club in about thirty minutes.”

  Talley’s delicate lips turn into a frown. “For God’s sake, Jared. It’s Saturday. You bring this pretty lady all the way down here and you have the nerve to go do business?”

  She gives my hand a squeeze and pulls me close to her so we present a united front against him.

  “Yeah,” I chime. “The nerve of him.”

  “Honey, you’ll find Jared has more nerve than a bad tooth.” She casts a disapproving glance at him. “But we’ll forgive him this time.” She wags a finger in his face. “I’m surprised you’re not locked up in the hotel making this girl ride that monster of yours.”

  My heart stops and I feel the tops of my ears get warm with embarrassment. It’s bad enough to have Jared’s ex-girlfriend as my chaperone for the day without her referring to him and me in bed.

  “Aw, c’mon, Talley. Leave me alone. It was she who begged me to stop.” He winks at me.

  I can’t hide my disbelief, but he continues.

  “You’re right, though. If it was up to me,” he says, pulling me to his side so unexpectedly I feel like a rag doll, “we’d still be joined at the hip.” He looks at his watch. “I gotta leave.”

  He tilts my chin up and plants a kiss on my lips. His tongue takes possession of my mouth with such ease and command anyone would think we’ve been together for ages. When he pulls away to end the kiss, he snares me with those piercing violet eyes and says, “Take good care of her, Talley. Make sure she has a good time.”

  “Of course, J. D.”

  He reaches a hand down to squeeze my bottom and lowers his head for another kiss. When I kiss back, he makes a sound of approval.

  “All right, you two. Break it up. The last thing I need is a visit from my holy-roller neighbors.”

  He kisses the tip of my nose. “I’ll be back by four.” He heads for the car. “Eva, you be good!”

  “Yes, Daddy.” I stick my tongue out for good measure. As he drives away, I turn to my hostess. I don’t know what to say, but I’m determined not to act like some jealous female because of the awkward situation. I shrug. “Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

  “Aw, now I wouldn’t say stuck.” She links arms with me and we walk indoors.

  Stepping into Talley’s home is like stepping into a Mediterranean dwelling with arched entryways and marble tile. A domed skylight in the entryway makes the space bright and cool, and relaxes as it illuminates the muted pastel colors of sand, coral, and azure.

  Several objects are displayed on pedestals and pillars: Grecian amphoras, fragments of bas-relief, and parchment. The walls have frescoes depicting classical themes of feasts and festivals reminding me of what I always thought ancient imperial villas would resemble. An abundance of green plants and ivy, some with fragrant flowering blossoms, add splashes of color and a light, sweet scent to the air.

  The sound of running water makes me take a few more steps inside until I see a sunroom with an indoor stream, complete with fish, housed by smooth, flat stones. In the center of some strategically piled rocks sits a Grecian temple serving as the source of the waterfall.

  Talley, noting my interest, stands beside me, bends over, and explains, “If you get real close, you’ll see I’ve rigged it with lights and an altar, complete with a statue of the goddess.”

  “Which goddess?”

  “Whichever one I feel like worshiping at the moment.” She smiles and stands straight. “At night, it serves as a nightlight and glows with altar fires.”

  The stream culminates in the center of the room but is rigged to go under a pair of double doors and into the backyard, where it meets another water garden with more fountains and waterfalls. And you needn’t worry about missing the journey of the fish, because the tiles on the floor in front of the French doors are transparent.

  I notice two cats, a calico and a gray longhair, watching
the fish from their perch, a slab of sandstone jutting out alongside the stream at the base of the waterfall. Every now and then, a bit of water splashes up and the cats shake their heads with annoyance, but they don’t move.

  “That’s Clio and Electra,” informs my hostess. “Those two are crazy. They’ll sit there for hours batting at the fish, sometimes catching a few. On a good day, I get the fish back in the water in time.” She frowns. “Other times, I’ll be walking along and step on something crunchy only to look down and see a half-eaten fish under my foot.”

  I laugh—until I see something small and pink scamper into the cracks between the stones. “What the hell was that?”

  “What was what?”

  “I thought I saw something beat a quick retreat down there.” I move to the stream for a closer look. “Something with legs.”

  Talley shrugs. “Probably a gecko. Or a salamander.”

  I bite my lip. Obviously the woman doesn’t mind having small reptiles running around her house. I decide to watch my step. Frankly, I’m surprised Talley would have all this water around her in a climate so humid and I tell her so.

  “Hey, I’m from Louisiana,” she says. “Near Lake Pontchartrain. This ain’t nothin’, girl.” She looks at me. “Would you like something to drink?”

  I follow Talley into her kitchen and sit at the island bar as she gets out the glasses. Her windowpane cabinets display all of her plateware, most of which are painted in bright, primary colors and geometric designs.

  “I’ll make us some adult lemonade.”

  She pours two tall glasses of lemonade and splashes in a shot or two of whiskey. Me and her are gonna get along just fine.

  She cuts a few sprigs of mint from the window box before joining me with a plate of sugar cookies.

  “Tell me something, Eva.”

  “What?”

  “How did Jared really get you to come here with him?” She starts to laugh a deep chortle, the type that surrounds a joke told in bad taste. “He said it was for sex.”