Destiny Plays

by Leslie Pike

  “Oh God! Oh God!” she screams.

  “Who?”

  “Oh, Christos! I’m coming!”

  I lightly tap tap tap her G-spot until her juices wet my finger. I want her to remember who made her feel like this. When her orgasm stops, she gets up on her elbows and looks me in the eye.

  “Incredible. Unbelievable,” she says through heavy breaths.

  I slide on top of her. “Need a break?”

  “Hell no.” She rolls me back over and sits on me. Pussy against cock. She moves. It’s as if she’s hearing some sensual music only she’s privy to. Her hips roll independent of the top half of her body. I can feel her lips as they part every time she rolls right to left. My dick wants to lift towards her like a divining rod. She unravels the last remnants of her wedding hair. It falls loose and shiny over her shoulders, one thick curl making a perfect half circle around her nipple.

  I roll her over and take her hands, pinning her wrists above her head. “No more pre-show.”

  Lifting myself, I take ahold of my dick. The juices on her lips make a good welcome. But she’s tight, no matter how wet she is. Her eyes widen but she lifts herself towards me, working to take me all in. Breasts press against my chest, and I feel her aroused nipples. Crazy beautiful. It’s crucial I go slow here, but the more I try the harder it gets.

  “Relax, baby. Just relax,” I say. Keeping ahold of her wrists with one hand, I try to guide myself in with the other. “That’s it. You got it. Just a few more inches.”

  “Let go of my wrists,” she says.

  I do, and she grabs me by the shoulders, and pulls herself up to meet my final thrust. Oh fucking God. I’m in.

  “I want . . . to hold onto you.”

  She takes my kiss and I forget every other mouth that my mouth has ever touched.

  Chapter Six

  Kate

  I’ve been awake for ten minutes, just watching the sheet rise. Lovely. He must be having a great dream, but it couldn’t possibly be better than last night’s show. I’m in a kind of sex-induced haze that I never want to be rid of.

  Very carefully I lift the cover and throw it off the both of us. Now there’s a sight. He’s an example of a well-chiseled sculpture. The arms. Oh God. If I was another kind of woman, I’d get my phone and take a picture. I would have ethics, damnit. What a man. Top to bottom hot. It’s funny, but I’d never met my match before. Some men have had the stamina, some the imagination, but no one had both. No one had the size. Add to that the most important piece of the puzzle that for me has been missing. Even when we’re simply having a conversation, it’s all about the indescribable feeling I have when he’s near. I’m afraid to put a name to it. The bar has been raised ridiculously high.

  He moans softly, and his hand touches himself for a few beats before it falls to his side. That’s my cue. I turn gently towards him and lean in till my mouth is right above the mother lode. Sticking out my tongue, I light as a feather lick the tip. It almost imperceptibly moves in my direction, attempting to meet the source of its pleasure.

  I put my lips around him and suck gently base to head. He’s with me now, legs stretched to their limit then spread. I accept the silent invitation and climb between them.

  “I was just dreaming of you doing that,” he says opening sleepy eyes. “Give me a kiss. Down here.”

  I give him only what he asks for, one kiss down there.

  “You don’t have to take my request so literally,” he chuckles.

  “Oh, you want more?”

  His head raises and his face gets serious. “Yes. I want more.”

  Careful, Kate. Don’t read too much into that.

  “Okay, back to your original plan,” he laughs, closing his eyes and dropping his head back down.

  I take hold of my prize. That’s when I feel something jump on the bed and hear Christos’ annoyed voice.

  “What the fuck?!”

  Lifting my head I see United has brought his favorite friend an offering. He sits close to the pillow, and he has a dead mouse in his mouth. Christos reaches behind and bangs on the headboard. He yells. “Get down!”

  That momentarily spooks the cat, and he drops the mouse directly on Christos’ face. I think it rolled over his mouth. Ohhhhh no.

  “Shit!”

  United resumes his composure, stretches, then jumps to the floor leaving his unappreciated present feet up on the sheet.

  “He was bringing you a gift,” I say under my breath.

  Christos gives me a pointed look but keeps his mouth tightly closed as he heads for the bathroom. Mouse cooties cleanup I suspect. I want to laugh, but press my lips together and hold back.

  I hear the water running and gargling, gargling, gargling.

  “I think you got it!” I call stifling my laughter.

  “Do you have an extra toothbrush?”

  “Under the sink. Blue canister. Toothpaste’s in the drawer.”

  Grabbing about ten pieces of Kleenex, I dispose of the little mouse. Poor guy. The sheets get stripped and thrown in the hamper. I get my short robe, slip it on, then walk back to the bathroom.

  “Did you have to?” he says, noting my attire. “We’re not half finished.”

  “I don’t want you to get tired of seeing me naked,” I tease.

  He laughs and takes me in his arms. “Tired? No, that’s never gonna happen.”

  “Want to take a bath with me? I’ve got this big old fashioned tub, and I need someone to wash my back,” I say kissing his neck.

  “I’m your man.”

  “Are you?” Oh god, why did I say that? But he doesn’t flinch. I haven’t scared him a bit.

  “This thing that’s happening here, you, me. I’m all in,” he says.

  His face is so serious and for some stupid reason I suddenly feel a kind of shyness, just like a young girl would. “Me too,” is the only thing I can get out.

  Both of us are surprised, I think, by what just happened. I look down before he can read the excitement I feel.

  “This is gonna be our first bath together,” Christos says, lifting my chin and looking deep within my eyes.

  “Think you’ll like it?” I say.

  He raises an eyebrow. “Naked you, in the water? Yes, Kate, I’ll like it.”

  Three hours later, I watch from my balcony as he drives away, back to the City. How many goodbyes did we say and how many kisses interrupted the leaving? My mind is crowded with images of the last twenty-four hours.

  After our bath, we pushed back breakfast plans because of what we discovered. Apparently making the bed in the nude is the wrong way to control the libido. Bouncing boobs, stolen kisses and me bending over picking pillows up was enough to get Christos hard again. Once aware of my effect, I knew I could make things worse.

  He called me a beautiful prick tease for my efforts and punished me with a spanking over his knee. We couldn’t stop laughing though. He said he didn’t think that was how it was supposed to work, which made me laugh more. Then he kissed the red marks clear and rubbed my backside with body lotion. Now that was erotic.

  We wrapped ourselves in my pareos and I danced for him and with him to the songs on my playlist. He asked to hear me sing again. As we laid on fresh sheets, I sang my favorite song, “We’re All Alone”. It had just started raining, and the sound of the drops on the roof were perfect accompaniment to the lyrics. Never did the words mean so much to me. He listened with his eyes closed and when I finished, he told me he’ll never hear that song in the same way again. I melted.

  We made love. This time we took our time, and for me it was filled with an overwhelming sense of destiny. We hardly spoke. There was no need for words because everything was said with our eyes and hands, our bodies. It was beyond language. It seems too soon to be experiencing these feelings, but in truth I’ve waited forty-two years.

  The ringtone of my cell pulls me from paradise. I walk back inside and grab it from the dresser. It’s Christos.

  “Come back. You’ve bee
n gone long enough,” I say.

  “Is ten minutes too soon to miss you?”

  If he could see me right now, he’d think I’m an idiot, smiling ear to ear.

  “I forgot to mention Thanksgiving. My folks are having a thing on Thursday. Want to join me?”

  “I like things. Yes, definitely.”

  “Ask your aunt if she’d like to come. Was she planning anything?”

  “She doesn’t like to cook, so we were going to have turkey burgers and watch a Ray Donavon marathon.”

  “Now I see where you got your cooking genes,” he chuckles.

  “I have other more important talents.”

  “That’s one hundred percent true. Umm . . . I need to say something about that. I wanted to say it when I was there but didn’t have the balls.”

  “Say it now.”

  “I don’t want you to be with other men. I realize we hardly know each other and I shouldn’t be saying it, but I can’t get it out of my mind. I couldn’t share you. It has to be just me now. Is that something you could live with?”

  He says it with a confidence that lets me understand he’s not bluffing. I feel the same. The thought of him being intimate with another woman sickens me.

  “It’ll be just you, Christos. And I expect the same in return. Just me.”

  I can almost see him nodding his head in agreement. I know he’s smiling too.

  “Good. I’ve never been in this situation before, Kate. Everything about it is different.”

  “It’s a little scary,” I say.

  “Yeah. But in a good . . .”

  I hear the static of a bad connection then the disconnect. Damn! My heart’s beating through my chest as I absorb what just happened. This brand of happiness is new to me. In my entire adult life I’ve never been exclusive with a man. Well, not that they knew it, anyway. Many times I’ve had one sexual partner, but not because it was demanded or expected by either party. The men I’ve been with mostly were actors or musicians or crew members. Fuck buddies or quick and hot romances. We were like-minded. No promises were made, ever. Traveling from town to town and only settling three months out of the year doesn’t make for lasting relationships.

  But now there’s Christos, and the world has changed. It’s both broadened me and been made so much more intimate. There are new standards and expectations. How is it that we both came to the same conclusions? And what happens when my two month hiatus is over? I’m leaving St. Helena in weeks.

  What’s his plan? What’s mine?

  The sound of the creaky front door opening captures my attention.

  “Katie, I’m home!” Auntie calls.

  Oh good. I need my most trusted counselor. “I’m coming down!” I answer.

  I throw on a pair of jeans and the closest T-shirt and head for the stairs.

  “Welcome home. Did you have fun?” I say taking the stairs barefoot.

  She’s looking up at me with a shit-eating grin on her face. “I can tell you did.”

  It’s no surprise whatsoever that my face is giving me away. A blind man could sense what’s radiating from me. “Oh yeah.”

  I jump from the last step and give Auntie a hug as she looks through the mail. “You wouldn’t believe my story if I told you. Which I’m not,” I say.

  She just stares at me with a crooked grin. And waits.

  “Okay, maybe I’ll tell you a little bit.”

  Then I proceed to tell her everything. The wedding, our escape to this house, the power of our connection, the entire story minus the sexy details. That I summed up with a “The man is unbelievable” review.

  “What’s going on here?” she says pointing a finger at my face.

  “What?”

  “Something’s different. Did he screw the cobwebs away?” She laughs.

  “Maybe. And there’s another thing.”

  Her face is wearing the pleasure she feels for me. “What’s that?”

  “He told me he was only interested in us being exclusive. Nobody else.” I squeak the last two words out in an excited telling.

  “Is that something you want?” Auntie says.

  I just nod my head. I see the shock on her face.

  “Never thought I’d see the day.”

  “Me either.” I smile.

  “You’ve always been a free spirit. But, honey, let me tell you, when it’s right there’s nothing confining about it. You find your freedom together. Your uncle and I did.”

  This is the first time in years I’ve seen tears in Auntie’s eyes. It’s been over two decades since he passed away. But he still holds her, even after death. I wrap my arms around her. “I know how much you loved each other. Your love is why I believe in love at all.”

  She hugs me tight then breaks away.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been given a more beautiful compliment.”

  “It’s true.”

  She sits on the bottom step and pats the empty space next to her for me. This is where we’ve always rehashed our life stories.

  “But let’s talk about you. What the hell are you going to do when you leave? Long-distance romance?” she asks.

  I toss the idea around in my mind for 2.1 seconds. “I can’t see that working. And I haven’t thought of an alternative yet.”

  Auntie’s ringtone interrupts the conversation. “Let me see who this is.”

  She takes her cell out of the back pocket of her jeans and looks at the screen. Eyebrows raised she turns the phone towards me. Christos is calling.

  “I gave him your number Halloween night when my phone went dead. I put his in yours! Answer it! But don’t say you’re here yet,” I whisper.

  “Why are you whispering? He can’t hear you,” she laughs.

  I grab her arm. “Put him on speaker.”

  She nods her agreement and puts a finger to her lips, making sure I stay quiet.

  “Hello?”

  “Anne, it’s Christos.”

  “Oh, hi. This is a surprise.”

  “Kate gave me your number in case I couldn’t get ahold of her. Hope you don’t mind me calling.”

  “Of course not. But I don’t know where she is. I’m not quite home yet.”

  “I’m not calling about that. I wanted to invite you to join my family for Thanksgiving. Kate and I talked about it earlier today, but I thought I’d extend the invitation myself.”

  Auntie gives me a thumbs up and a nod. She mouths the word classy. As he begins to meow, I hear United as he descends the stairs. With every step closer, it gets louder. Shit, I think he hears Christos’ voice. Auntie Anne is pointing and pitching a thumb, trying to get me to grab the cat and take him out. Meanwhile she’s still attempting to carry on the conversation. As he passes me I try to pick him up. He sounds a warning for me to back off.

  “Well, that’s so nice of you. And of your family. I’d love to come. Can I bring some wine?”

  “Kate said you’re a great cook. She volunteered you for the dressing. There’ll be fifteen of us.”

  Auntie and I look at each other in shock. I shake my head and mouth the words, “No, I didn’t!” She throws her hand up and purses her lips as if to say she’d like to kick me in the ass.

  He waits a few beats then starts laughing. “United! Hi, boy!” he calls to the cat. United answers with a long cat yowl.

  We’re busted.

  “You two are trouble together,” he says. “And Kate, I know you’re standing there right next to the cat.”

  I punch my aunt in the arm and we have a three-arm silent slap fight where nothing connects. Finally, I cop out to Christos. “You don’t know everything. I happen to be sitting.”

  Good thing he finds me charming. That’s what he said when he called me Monday night. I was trying to dance around the fact that I’d enlisted my own aunt in my escapade. I couldn’t really explain why I did it. Next I’ll be writing our initials in a heart. I told him he was having a strange effect on me and that I’m feeling and acting like a schoolgirl with her first
boyfriend. I almost said first love, but thank God at the last second my brain cells rebooted and I self-edited.

  A few days apart seemed like a doable thing. He left Monday and would return to pick me and Auntie Anne up on Thanksgiving. Time alone to think. But that’s not how these last seventy-two hours have gone. It’s been hell. He said he got work done but I’m not sure when that happened. We were on the phone at least three times each day and then there were the nights. It’s amazing how turned on you can get a hundred miles apart with just the right words. We’re two magnets aligning, and nothing will stop the pull. That’s the unvarnished truth.

  Chapter Seven

  Christos

  “Let’s pray,” says my mother.

  All fifteen of us around the dining room table take each other’s hands. Only one of us is missing. Dion’s begrudgingly spending the holiday with his girlfriend’s family in Aspen.

  My father speaks up. “Who’s turn is it to say the prayer?”

  I lean in to Kate. “One of the kids always says the prayer at Thanksgiving.”

  “Not me,” Gregory says firmly. “I’m not saying it.”

  Robert shoots his son a look that quiets him. “Nobody’s gonna force you say it if you don’t want to. Relax.”

  Under Lana’s breath I hear the word teenagers.

  “Come on, someone just say the friggin prayer. I’m hungry,” says Nikos shaking his head.

  Max and Robert think their uncle’s funny as hell.

  “Maybe it’s our Boo’s turn!” my mother suggests. “She can say the little prayer she does before bed.”

  Boo buries her face in Lana’s sleeve. I guess that’s a no.

  Max raises his hand. “I’ll say it.” He keeps his head up and his eyes open. “Thank you God, for this food. Especially Nonna’s turkey. It looks really good. Thank you for our people family and our animal family. And thank you for new friends Kate and Anne. Amen.”