Deleted Scene
I was mesmerized for so long, I didn’t realize when it became late evening. I went into the bathroom, showered off most of the paint and put on a pair of jeans and a sweater. I didn’t know what was in Zeke’s pipe, but it left me with bizarre, confused impressions of the finger paints coming to life and swarming over my body, causing me to climax in ways I never thought were possible. And my body was completely painted. It was also tingling with that particular hunger a girl sometimes gets when there’s been great oral sex but no penetration.
I tried to track back, but the last clear memory was my conversation with the doctor. I was going to have to keep an eye on Zeke. I suspected he was more of a free spirit than I could handle. Fortunately, sobriety hadn’t fared very well with anybody. Some of the party makers had gone home, but most were either passed out in the house or camped out in the yard. I did a quick check to make sure they were still alive, then covered the naked ones with blankets.
I found Briana among the survivors. She had also been liberally painted, but only remembered going out to the garage with Burke. When I asked her if she remembered a body painting orgy, she laughed. “Those must have been some really good drugs. You were hallucinating.” She drew us both a cup of coffee. “Wow,” she said. “Who would have thought old timers could get down like that?”
“How did they make it out of the sixties?” I asked, holding my head with both hands.
“Who said they did?” She found a left-over piece of chicken and picked at it. “You still mad at me?”
“For what?”
“I’m still going to try and get the doctor. C’mon, Jenna. He’s the kind of available bachelor women dream about, even if he is a sourpuss. Until he stakes one of us out, he’s fair game to both of us.”
“Oh, he is. He is. He’s a red-blooded, heterosexual male, and the average woman he gets to see unrobed is over forty. And I don’t give a whit about your sob story about the lady doctor of his life. You know what I think? She was a mean, cold, cynical bitch, and her joints were all angles. She gave up Seattle and a sizzling hot date for San Diego? I wouldn’t. Maybe for Paris or the Bahamas, but San Diego?”
“It was to advance her career.”
“There. That’s just what I’m saying. If you had someone who makes plenty of money and is smoking hot like the doctor, wouldn’t you be satisfied with your career? You’re going to move because, oh! You can become a big chef in San Diego instead of a little chef in Seattle. Would you move for that?”
“Well, if I had him…”
“Exactly. And you know, I don’t think San Diego is as cool as Seattle. I like it here.”
“I do, too. That’s why we need to start taking our lives here more seriously. Briana, we need to start making money so these mortgage payments don’t drown us. I still have a balance to settle with my attorney but he’s willing to hold off until the house is paid for…”
“There are options. You could re-finance.”
“Yes, I know I could, but that’s not the way. Create more debt to get out of debt. It doesn’t work. You just keep paying and paying. This is our chance to get ahead. We need to do this.”
“I’ve been thinking about that.” We looked up to see Linda in the doorway. She was slightly disheveled, but well covered with a thick, fuzzy robe. Jack Jones was standing beside her, looking as spry as he had when he first joined the party. There probably wasn’t a psychedelic drug on earth powerful enough to knock him down, since he already was a walking psychosis.
“I could kick up some extra bucks giving the men haircuts on my days off. You could work as a manicurist. You’re good at it.”
“That’s good,” agreed Briana. “But Burke gave me another idea. I know you don’t like him,” she said hastily when she saw me screw up my nose. “But he knows some things. He knows the community. His mom has already passed away and his dad has a care taker come in three times a week. He orders his meals from the senior services, but he doesn’t like them. Won’t eat them. There are a lot of people like that around here. They never get out much. Hardly go to the grocery stores. Don’t cook.
Burke said it wouldn’t take very much to turn your Bronco into a delivery service. Everyone loves your food, Jenna. They’ll buy from you. You could turn your kitchen into a place of business.”
I guess I’m not very quick witted. It took me several minutes to digest this information and examine its feasibility. In the meantime, Jack was already enthusiastically examining the feasible parts. “You’re an accredited chef. It will be a snap for you to get your food license. We’ll have to do a little renovating for the kitchen to pass inspection…” He was on the verge of sitting down with the rest of us for coffee, but now jumped up and looked around, examining every nook and cranny of the kitchen.
“There’s insurance,” I reminded him. “That’s expensive.”
He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Never let it be said that Jack Jones was too much of a cad to invest in the future of three beautiful princesses.”
I gave him a suspicious look. “You profited tonight.”
“What goes around, comes around sweety. You girls can put on a hell of a party, but when it comes to food, you have us all by the balls. If you want to start a catering service, I’ll invest in it. You’ve earned it.”
Chapter Forty-Six
If it had been just me, I would have plodded through the same way I had done with the house; listening to my attorney’s advice, checking websites for additional info, doing the math over and over with my not very clever thought processes. I would have talked to everyone and meditated, before making a move, but it wasn’t just about me.
It was a whirlwind. Jack brought a couple of carpenters in and a plumbing expert; all of whom looked like they were in their retirement years. They worked three times faster than any young handyman I’d ever seen however, and did a job on the kitchen and dining area that should be featured in Homes and Gardens. It was squeaky clean, with stainless steel sinks that slurped up every bit of carelessly left debris, and silent pipes sunk deep into the walls. There were oak cabinets and bins and broad counter tops, all snuggled around the not-quite-so-modern stove and refrigerator.
It only took Burke three days to convert the Bronco into a food wagon. He cleaned out the back and placed a collapsible set of trays that could be disassembled and removed with ease, or so he said. Once it was in place, I never tried changing it. It was a guy thing, and now that we had our male crew, I let the guys do it.
He pimped out our ride. As a favor, he put new seats in front and back. They were a plush, burgundy color, with matching colored leather wrap. He also added hand grips and steps, making it easier to get in and out for both elderly companions and three big girls. This wouldn’t have been quite so necessary, but he had also replaced the Bronco’s wheels with slightly larger ones; jacking up the suspension to accommodate them. It was easier on the carriage, he said. Remembering its sobs when we’d hit some especially critical bumps in the road, I believed him.
The weather changed. The leaves turned bright yellow, then fell to the ground, squashing together under steady rains. We bundled in hooded jackets and laced up boots to go for walks, watching our breath form steam clouds in front our faces. The doctor had put his lawn mower away and had started jogging each morning. I watched from the kitchen window, while I began the breakfast preparations for the day. Sometimes I thought about putting on jogging shoes and bouncing alongside him. A bounce is what it would have been. My bosom plays the percussions for Star Spangled Banner just at a fast walk.
It was nippy outside, but wonderfully warm and cozy inside. The visitors that had once occupied our front porch, now migrated into the dining area, where they spread the latest rumors, or talked politics, or said anything else that came to their minds. My catering had extended to a coffee shop service. I bought another table for the dining area, moved back the furniture in the living room, shrinking down its size, and began making fresh breads and
pastries on a daily basis to sell to my in-house community.
Sometimes the doctor came in, always taking a chair at the end of the far table and asking only for coffee. I was always so busy in the kitchen, it was Briana who would end up waiting on him and sitting down to chat, leaning her arms against the table and pushing back the chair so that her butt made a wide U-turn between her arched back and her legs.
He would talk with her a bit, then leave for that dreary clinic filled with test tubes and aging flesh. I wondered what he did in the evenings when he came home, when both our days were finished. Did he look into my yard the way I looked into his? He hadn’t talked to me since the block party, which made me wonder what really happened.
Nobody at all was very helpful in that respect. All Liz remembered was that it was raining flowers. Melanie talked at length about a psychic energy field that had channeled their minds into one. Jack Jones and Linda – well, they had their own link going on and it was rather physical.
Zeek asked why I worried about such things. “Body paint that sexually assaulted you? It sounds like repressed sexual desires.”
Zeek’s diagnosis sounded spot on. He had stretched an arm across my shoulders while we munched popcorn in front of the television and watched superhero movies. When I cuddled with him, I sometimes felt like a big mama with an affectionate youngster. It wasn’t a turn-off though. It was part of his charm. He managed to open up the nurturing side in women. No woman could stay mad at him, no matter what he did, because it was all done out of affection.
His hand strayed down my shoulder, rubbing my arm. “I like the way you feel. You’re so soft in all the right places. It makes me want to cozy down with you all night.”
I reached across the coffee table and grasped the bottle of wine, pouring us both another glass. “You feel pretty nice, too.”
“Are you feeling lonely tonight?”
“A little bit.”
“Me too.”
“Why don’t you get a real girlfriend?”
“I don’t know. Fear of commitment. Falling in love is scary, Jenna.”
“I know it is.”
“You’ve got the hots for the doctor. It’s got you all wound up inside.”
“He doesn’t even notice me.”
“Oh yes, he does. I’ll tell you the truth since you’re my snow bunny. He was hurt, really crushed when Julia left him. I think he planned to marry her.”
“What was she like, this Julia?”
He shrugged. “Not my type. She was pushy. She had this attitude that she was always right. She had biceps! They popped right out at the sleeves, especially when she got mad, and she had a quick temper.”
“What did he see in her?”
“Oh, she looked good to some men. She was the right shape and size, with straight brown hair cut straight across and off the neck. But it wasn’t her looks that attracted him. I think he believed her. He believed in her superiority and believed he could prove himself worthy of her.” He chuckled without humor. “She took him for a ride. She’s not the kind of woman who loves anything except herself.”
“That’s sad.”
“There’s a lesson involved. Never let anybody make you believe they are better or smarter than you are.”
I looked at him with amusement. We had run out of wine, so I had gotten up to grab another. He took my arm. “I mean it, Jenna. If the doctor ever makes you feel less than who you are, run away quickly.”
“I don’t think that will be difficult since he doesn’t pursue me.”
We were halfway through the second bottle. We could no longer remember whether we were watching Iron Man or Captain America. Zeek said drowsily, “I did fall in love once.”
“You did?”
“Several years ago. I thought she was the girl of my dreams. I thought she was perfect. She was bright, bubbling, big blue eyes, great smile. She loved animals and rock climbing. I was really going to settle down, work a steady job. I was planning to marry her, but she left me. She just left, went out to the country with another man, bought five acres of land and raised goats and pigs. Now they have two kids. I didn’t know that was the life she wanted. I should have asked.”
“I’m sorry.”
“We’re both in the pits tonight, aren’t we?”
“Sort of.” He had laid his head against my chest, and I wrapped an arm around his neck, ruffling his silky, medium length hair. It was cut back from his ears, but his bangs still flopped to one side.
He nuzzled me. “I love your breasts. They are magnificent. They are the most beautiful breasts in the world.” He unbuttoned my blouse to display them, locked in a front-snap brassiere. “They are a complete work of art, perfectly matched, perfect in color.” He unfastened the snaps and smoothed back the material, his hands gliding over my breasts, then moving up to pull the blouse away from my shoulders.
“I love your skin, so creamy, so soft. I love how smooth it is.” He sat back to admire the unveiling. “Just look at these. They are amazing.” He cupped his hands around my breasts and squeezed. My nipples leaped immediately to attention, and he tried one out while twirling the other between his fingertips. “You know,” he said, his voices deepening into a sexy growl. “I’ve never seen your twat. What color is it? Is it blonde? Red? Brown?”
“Strawberry.”
“Really? Can I see?”
“Zeek,” I said with a giggle, a little hot and bothered, as if he couldn’t tell how much I wanted him. “You’re going to have to fuck me if you do because I’m getting really aroused.”
“Show me,” he said hungrily. “I’ve got a condom. Come on…I want to see you. All of you.”
He stood up again to unbutton my jeans and slide them down past my hips, his hands wandering down my legs until he had released the last bit of cloth from around my ankles.
“It really is… red!” He cried with wonder. He touched the hair on my cunt, so confidently, so in control…I couldn’t help but shudder. “It’s not coarse. It’s kind of like a little bright patch of sheep wool.”
He groomed through it with interest, until his fingers found the slit and buried deep in it, swimming in the fluids.
“Uhhhh…” I cried softly, feeling every inch of his fingers.
“You’re pretty hot alright. You shouldn’t wait so long to fuck. There’s always someone willing to love you. Fuck you. Make love the way you want.”
He removed his pants and grasped his manhood, nuzzling his cock against the furry patch. I squirmed and sighed a little louder, feeling the intensity.
“Patience, sweetheart.” He ran his palms down my full body again, starting at the arms, slipping up over my tits, trailing down my belly, then splaying his fingers wide as he circled my thighs and opened them wider. He eased the shaft in slowly, widening the lips of my cunt and playing with the clit until I felt his pubic hairs tickle it, then rub hard against it.
“Oh my God…shit…” I sighed, shutting my eyes and feeling it all over my body.
He collapsed on top of me, grabbing my tits at the same time and squeezing the tips between his fingers.
“Ohhh my God!” I cried helplessly, as he firmly inserted his hard cock inside me.
“Mmmm…” he grunted, letting his emotions spill out just like my wet pussy. He fucked me a little firmer, building up some more rapid movements.
“Yes…like that,” I muttered, holding him close and wanting him deeper. Not just deeper into my pussy, but deeper into my soul. I breathed all over his face as he fucked me with his long cock, wanting to own him all, possess him fully.
I grabbed his butt and pushed down hard, slamming him into me. Fuck, I still remember how it felt, taking that dick and cooing with every inch that slid further inside me. I moaned medium at first but then to a louder, longer pitch as I felt my clit explode over and over.
“Oh I’m going to cum…” I groaned as he pulled out, rubbing his hard dick all over my clit and then back into my steaming cunt. “Make me cum…” I said
again, squeezing him internally and taking him in fully.
“I want you to cum,” he said looking into my eyes and melting me inside and out.
I let him fuck me some more and wiggled my way into an orgasmic peak.
“Yes…” I groaned, feeling the urge to push out overcome me, my body caving into my carnal desires. “Ohh fuck! I’m cumming!” I said, unleashing my fury all over his cock, wetting him, exploding on him and holding onto his ass so tightly.
“Mmmm me too!” he whispered right before unleashing a hard exhale, just as he let his cumshot go, deep inside of me. My mouth dropped as I felt every spurt of his manhood penetrate me, my voice muttering the first syllable of his name, my heart pounding away at the feeling of surrender.
A long wordless moment passed as we both recovered from the rush.
“I guess we did both need that,” I admitted.
“Yeah, that was a pretty nice cookie, wasn’t it?” He put his clothes back on while I slipped into my house coat. “What are you going to do about the doctor?”
“I don’t know. It’s kind of nuts, isn’t it? The only time I have off is in the afternoons and I never see him then.”
“You should get out more. Have you really seen Seattle? It has a lot to offer, including lots of cute guys.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Night clubbing. You and me. You look for guys while I look for girls.”
“I might take you up on that.”
“You should.”
What I really needed was a little less Briana competition and a little more Briana helping us to make money. She had her list of favorite people who consumed huge amounts of free coffee, received an enormous number of samples from their baked goods, and added a general drain to our budget. She insisted they were valuable and we would be glad they were around when we needed them, but the only value they had so far had been in replenishing beer stocks and handing out cigarettes.
Room Service Page 64
