by BWWM Club
“Not yet,” Leila said resisting his urgent pulling.
“Please!” he pleaded his eyes wild. Leila felt like a god, able to grant or take away desires simply by staying still or moving.
“Condom,” she said. She wasn’t drunk enough to have unprotected sex with a stranger…even one with whom she’d taken extensive blood tests just a few days ago. He gestured frantically at his wallet that was sitting beside the empty pizza box. She reached for it, peering at the slits in search of what they needed to get this show on the road. She pulled it out and handed it to him since she was no good at unwrapping the tightly sealed prophylactic. He tore into it like it had tried to kill his mother and then he was pulling it on while panting like a thirsty puppy. As soon as it was done he grabbed her hips and eased her all the way down until his balls were flush against her hips. Leila leaned down over him and took his mouth again, swallowing Jonathon's cries of near-painful pleasure as Leila fucked him with her tongue and he surged ever more passionately into her with his dick. Jonathon reached between their bodies to caress Leila’s clitoris until she tensed, shook and shuddered above him. He arched under her, feeling his whole body loosen with surrender as shudder after shudder of pleasure shook through his body. Jonathon wrenched his mouth away from her as the shock waves immobilized him, soft strangled sobs punched out with each thrust. Leila pushed up on one arm so she could watch his face as he came undone, mouth open and slack, eyes half-lidded and unseeing, skin flushed and radiant. She went still, shaking as his frantic thrusts hit their mark every time. She watched as Jonathon's body reacted without conscious thought. She saw the tension building in Jonathon's face so that he was suddenly gasping, clenching his jaw, throwing his head back against the pillow, exposing the long, tight muscles in his neck and shoulders, and it was the most beautiful thing Leila's ever seen, watching her husband come -- all the years and years of imagining this moment and it just doesn't compare to the reality of Jonathon letting it all go for her, because of her, he was wedged so deep inside her -- and it was that thought --- her husband is wedged inside her… That's what sent Leila's own orgasm surging through her, tearing out of her like the white heat and momentary blankness of an exploding star, or death itself. She was breathing hard as she came down, opening her eyes to gaze down at Jonathon's face, still out of it in the haze of his afterglow.
*****
She woke up the next morning with the worst hangover she’d ever experienced. It was like twenty eight construction workers simultaneously hammering away inside her head while they wolf whistled thirty women walking by one at a time while simultaneously shining a bright light into her sensitive eyes and churning her stomach with wet cement. She barely made it to the toilet in time. She didn’t want to open her eyes to look too closely because the bathroom window was letting in too much light, but she suspected she’d left her small intestine in the toilet. She crawled miserably back to her bedroom, where Jonathon lay sprawled all over her bed. He’d already colonized the little space she’d left unoccupied when she dashed to the bathroom. She sighed tiredly, not having enough energy to push him away so she shuffled across to her mother’s room and flopped back down on the bed, curling miserably into herself and chasing the escape of sleep. Luckily, she was just still drunk enough to find that blacking out wasn’t much of a chore.
The smell of coffee permeating up her nostrils woke her up some time later.
“Rise and shine princess,” a loud grating voice said. She flapped her hands in a quelling gesture without opening her eyes. Hoping the voice would take the hint and stop talking.
“Come on, it's almost mid day. Don’t you wanna visit your mama today?” the voice insisted on carrying on speaking much to her chagrin. She burrowed deeper into the pillow, trying to hide from it.
“Leeeiiiillaaaa,” the voice said, whining her name in a way that made her want to murder him.
“I’m sick,” she groaned.
“You’re hung over. And I have hair of the dog. But you have to lift your head if you wanna feel better,” the voice coaxed.
“Go away,” she tried.
“No,” it said and Leila cracked one eye open to glare at him. Jonathon stood in front of her, dressed in sweat pants and nothing else, smiling at her with way too much cheerfulness for her psyche to take.
“I will murder you,” she told him.
“You’d have to get up out of that bed first,” he said smugly.
Leila groaned and burrowed deeper into the bed. Suddenly, she felt it dip and there was a heavy weight above her.
“Come on Leila, get outta there. Come play with me,” Jonathon wheedled from somewhere way too close above her.
“Gerroff me,” she ordered.
“You’re not the boss of me,” he said.
“How old are you? Eight?” she complained, going so far as to uncover her face to glare at him. Jonathon grinned widely at her.
“I got you to open your eyes didn’t I?” he said smugly.
Leila stuck her tongue out at him. Jonathon got off her and reached for her hand.
“Come on,” he said pulling her from the bed. “I got a really delicious pot of coffee brewing. It’ll be worth being vertical I promise you.”
Leila just whined in reply as Jonathon pushed her out the door.
“Did we just have our first fight?” he said as he propelled her along the corridor.
Leila rolled her eyes.
*****
“So I got married this weekend, what did you do?” she told Martha on Monday morning as her assistant handed over her coffee, almost causing her to drop it.
“What?”
“Yep. Married. You?” Leila was trying her best to be super casual so that Martha didn’t freak out. She didn’t think she could survive a freak out. She was barely holding it together as it was. Life was happening too fast; she needed someone to stop the world so she could get off.
“You got married?” Martha asked as if she’d said she visited Mars during the weekend.
“Yes,” Leila held out the ring on her finger for Martha’s inspection. It was nothing ostentatious; in fact, it was easily overlooked if one wasn’t paying close attention. It was an antique silver ring inlaid with an emerald jewel in the shape of a star and inscribed on the inside with the phrase ‘Semper Fi’. There were Celtic patterns inscribed in the silver Jonathon hadn’t explained but they made the ring seem more magical than it really was…obviously, since it wasn’t magical at all.
“Its beautiful,” Martha said in awed and breathless tones.
“Well,” Leila shrugged shyly and was surprised to find that she was blushing. “Yeah.”
She extricated her hand from Martha’s grasp and turned to business. “So what’s my schedule like this morning?”
“Oh ummm…it's fairly clear. I believe you said you had a lot of paperwork to catch up on.”
“Yes I do. Okay then, get me some coffee would you?” Leila said sitting down.
“Okay. Will do,” Martha said walking to the door, where she stopped to regard Leila shyly. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Leila replied and smiled.
*****
The office was abuzz with the news of her nuptials. True, she hadn’t told Martha not to tell anyone. Still it was a nuisance. Said nuisance factor was multiplied by ten when Jonathon stopped by to take her out for lunch. She could smell the excitement as she walked across the office with him by her side, hand casually linked with hers. She didn’t know when exactly they became a couple that held hands but it didn’t seem awkward.
“So, what is it you want to tell me?” she asked as the waiter went off with the menus, having taken their orders.
“I talked to Mrs. Renfield and she refused to sell,” Jonathon said.
“Oh. Well there’s a surprise,” Leila replied sarcastically.
“Yes well…then your ex boyfriend came by as she and I were talking and we got to talking and long story short, he agreed to sell us his place.”
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“What?!?”
“Yeah. And he apparently is getting ready to go on some world tour so he wants the deal concluded as fast as possible. We’re signing papers tomorrow.”
“But…he lives opposite us. We can’t exactly meld two apartments that are across from each other!”
“True, but then we don’t really have to do we? I got to thinking about what your mother said – about us living together – and I have to concede that sometimes I can be irritating to be around. I’m a spoiled brat; I readily admit. She doesn’t need that. But you don’t need to be away from her. So how convenient would it be for us to be just across the hall?”
Leila stared at him with her mouth wide open, wondering what to object to first.
“He’s not my ex boyfriend,” she said at last.
“What?”
“Carlyle. He and I have never…you know.”
“Oh. Well, his loss.”
“And I don’t know if living opposite Mama would work. What if she needs something during the night?”
“Did you forget the full time nurse we’re hiring?”
“Mama is never going to agree to be treated like an invalid, let alone live with some stranger in her house.”
“Okay then, plan B; she has a nurse in the day time, and at night we can set up one of those monitor things people use to keep tabs on their babies.”
Leila laughed, “Oh you naïve thing you…I’d like to see you propose that to Ma and see how far you get.”
“Well then what? You suggest something then.”
Leila sighed. “I actually live with her so she has the impression that she’s keeping tabs on me not the other way around. She’ll want to work for as long as she can so forget about the daytime nurse thing. She’s an EMT; she won’t tolerate having some nurse coming to take her temperature and tuck her into bed…”
“Soo…? What then?”
Leila shrugged. “I guess…we let her live. It's her life after all; we provide what tools we can to make it bearable, and if she needs help, I guess she’ll ask.”
Leila felt quite bleak just thinking about it.
“We’ll stay close. I promise you. Dinner with her every night and everything.”
“Yeah sure. I guess that will have to work.”
“It will work. I promise you,” Jonathon covered her hand with his.
Leila widened her lips at him and made as if to smile. He wasn’t fooled but he let it pass. He did keep her hand in his though; even as the waiter brought their food and they ate.
*****
The entire office seemed to be awaiting her return from lunch, full of questions and exclamations. Leila fought her way through them, confirming only that yes, Jonathon Leary was her new husband, before shutting herself away in her office and trying to work.
She tried really hard not to think about him and their so called marriage. Judging from the way she ached in places she hadn’t been aware existed, and the way Jonathon had began looking at her from Sunday morning, all softness with a twinkle in his eye, she had to assume the consummation went well. She’d been too hung over on Sunday to really think about it and there had been no repeat performance attempted. This morning, she had woken up early and left the house before Jonathon was even awake. They’d slept in the same bed and when she awoke she found that she’d been ensconced in a cocoon consisting of his arms and legs. Still, it was all platonic and nothing worth writing home about…
The thing was, what was the road map forward for this arranged marriage. There was a cut off date to it, she knew that; two years hence. She didn’t know if knowing the limited time only nature of their relationship was a good thing or bad. For one thing, she didn’t want to invest too much emotion in something that was supposed to be businesslike. On the other hand, lines were already blurring pretty fast. Someone needed to write a book titled, The Idiot Guide to Arranged Marriages…hallo Emily Post or whoever. Martha Stewart maybe, or that Patti Stanger chick who ran the millionaire matchmaker site. Leila sighed, pushing everything to the back of her mind and getting on with her work.
Chapter 8
“Hello darling, why have you disappeared on me?” Jaime Leary’s voice came down the line, piercing Jonathon with guilt. He’d totally forgotten to update his mother on events.
“I’m sorry mom. I got caught up,” he apologized.
“Caught up with…?”
“I got married.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, James called to ask me about ‘this woman your son married’ as he put it.”
“Did you tell him?”
“I said if he wants to know, he has your phone number.”
Jonathon laughed.
“So what else are you so ‘caught up’ in?” Jaime asked.
“Nothing just marital settling down things. Finding a place to live…you know, the usual.”
“The usual?”
“Yeah.”
The silence got a little thick.
“Ma?” Jonathon prompted.
“No, I’m just wondering what you’re not telling me,” she said.
“Nothing ma. Leila and I are getting on famously. Her mother is in the hospital but she should be getting out soon and I’m signing a contract tomorrow to get me an apartment. Or rather Leila an apartment. It's gonna be in her name. I haven’t told her yet.”
“You sound very excited about your new life.”
Jonathon shrugged even though she couldn’t see him, “Its okay.”
“So when are you hosting your mother for dinner in your new place.”
“Anytime. When are you in Atlanta next?”
“When you invite me.”
“Okay. I’m inviting you. Let me just get some furniture in the place and you’re my first guest. I promise.”
“Alright. Don’t be a stranger.”
“I won’t.”
*****
Jonathon realized he had relocated to Atlanta when he got a call later in the week from his grandfather, inquiring when exactly he intended to be back in New York so that James could invite them for dinner.
“We live in Atlanta, James,” he said.
“What is that supposed to mean? You can’t live in Atlanta, it isn’t at all strategic.”
“It's where my wife lives and works. I can work from anywhere. It seems the logical compromise.”
“Aren’t there any jobs in New York she can do?”
“Her family is here.”
“Your family is in New York.”
“Yeah well…”
“What does your mother have to say about this?”
“She asked when I’d be inviting her for dinner in my new home.”
“I see. And when do I get an invitation?”
“Soon James. Give me some time to get furniture together,” Jonathon said.
“I shall be in Atlanta on Sunday. I shall see you and your wife then,” James said. He hung up without saying goodbye, which was par for the course for him.
Jonathon sighed and pressed the end call button on his phone, throwing it on the couch. He leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling in irritation. Raychelle was supposed to leave the hospital this weekend, it was not a convenient time to be having interrogatory sessions with James. He heard the front door open and glanced at the clock. He looked the other way, smile at the ready as Leila walked in.
“Home time already? It feels like you just went to work,” he said holding his hand out for her to take.
“Yeah that’s coz you have nothing to do all day but watch daytime soap operas. It tends to make the time fly by.”
“You calling me a bum?”
Leila laughed. “If the shoe fits,” she said with a shrug.
“Well as a matter of fact, I’ve been very busy. Renovations are almost done. We can move in by Friday.”
“That’s great. Sheila offered to pack for me in return for an introduction to one of your friends. So choose the nicest and invite
him over for moving day.”
Jonathon smiled, “Is that an order?”
“Yep,” she said discarding her shoes and flopping down on the couch. Jonathon handed her a drink.
“So how was work darling?” he asked.
“Great. We’ve started the moving process to the premises you gave us…super fun.”
Jonathon laughed, “I’m not feeling the love.”
“That’s because its not here. Its hiding behind the utter exhaustion of packing files.”
“Aww, poor baby. Good thing you don’t have to cook for your husband. I’ve made some tacos for dinner.”
“Whoot? You cook?” Leila was genuinely shocked.
“Hey. I feel judgment coming off you in waves. Why wouldn’t I know how to cook?”
“You spoiled brats rarely do,” Leila said with a teasing duck face.
Jonathon took it as an invitation and leaned in to plant one on her. She pulled back looking startled. “I thought we weren’t doing that,” she said, the last word on a higher note like it was maybe a question.
“I’m sorry. Did I read you wrong? I thought you wanted me to.”
“You thought I wanted you to what?” she asked.
“Kiss you,” he said staring into her eyes, his own glazed with desire.
Leila grimaced and shrugged, “Well I didn’t.”
“I apologize then,” he said still staring at her with the same expression.
“Okay,” she said softly. “Well then, let me get cleaned up and we can eat these so-called tacos you made.
“Yeah. Lets,” Jonathon said watching her as she got up and went to wash up and change. Leila took a deep breath, reminding herself that this was not happening.
*****
“Does consummation count if you’re drunk and you can’t remember anything but the highlights?” she found herself asking after her third taco and second glass of wine.
“I wouldn’t have taken you for such a light weight; you only had four glasses of wine that night,” Jonathon teased.
“I had two glasses of whiskey while I was changing,” Leila told him.
“Oh…in that case here’s to that Black Irish liver,” he said toasting her with his glass.
