He’s being sarcastic, of course.
"Oh, yes, but that's part of the charm, right? Rainy, foggy day in London, maybe stop into the Charles Dickens museum. Get a copy of Sherlock Holmes."
"Charles Dickens didn't actually write Sherlock Holmes."
"I know. I'm just naming things that are British."
He laughs and I laugh along with him.
I like having this banter and the ease of it.
We've had a lot of pressure in our relationship so far and suddenly it feels so easy.
Is this what it would be like to be with Dante in real life, to live with him?
To go out to dinner? To travel?
Yeah, I guess so. I mean, that's what it was like when we were in the Hamptons together.
"You know, that was probably our first weekend away, officially," I point out.
“Sorry, I kind of sprung my whole family on you.”
“No, not at all. I loved meeting them. They’re a part of you.”
When we get to the room and drop our bags, I wash my face at the sink and he brushes his teeth. It's all very domestic and comfortable at the same time. I feel like we've been a couple for a long time, but it's romantic and kind of sexy.
After taking off my clothes, I change into the robe hanging on the back of the door. When I come out of the bathroom, Dante pulls me close to him.
Grabbing my belt, he kisses me, and I run my fingers up and down his chest. Every muscle is exaggerated and yet in perfect proportion.
He is already taking off his shirt. I know this is going to be our last day together, so that's what makes tonight even more sexy.
Dante has lit a few candles and the house lights are dimmed. He kisses me softly, at first, but then passionately. He finds my mouth and buries his fingers in my hair. He runs his tongue up my neck softly and then his hand slides down to my breasts, cupping one.
I feel my nipples getting hard. Suddenly, I take a breath and my chest tightens with anticipation.
He slides his hand in between my thighs and I open my legs, just a little. He kneels down and kisses me, opening my robe more, exposing my breasts.
"You look beautiful," Dante says, pulling me by the hand and sitting on the bench at the bottom of the bed.
"Take off your robe," he whispers in my ear, and then sits back. Suddenly, I feel very self-conscious.
"No, I can't.” I shake my head.
"Please."
"Why?"
"Because I love you, because you're the most beautiful woman in the world, and I want to look at you."
"I'm not a piece of art."
“Yes, you are."
He waits. I hesitate and then something comes over me.
I pull the robe away and let it drop to the floor. I straighten my back and pull in my stomach, but then I feel a little bit nauseous.
I'm keenly aware of just how imperfect my body is. And yet, the expression on his face, I can tell that he's not aware of any of these things. He seems to want me for me, and that makes my whole body ache for him.
“Okay, enough.” I reach down to grab my robe, but Dante stops me.
He pulls me closer, intertwining his fingers with mine. He tugs a little and I fall on top of him. I feel the hardness of his body underneath mine, our legs and arms intertwine, along with our tongues. Our mouths search for each other’s.
Even though we're already kissing, everything becomes messy. At some point, I pull off his boxer briefs and a bit later, he flips me over onto my stomach.
He kisses my back, and then the nape of my neck, going down my spinal column.
I arch my butt and he grabs on to both cheeks, squeezing tightly. His fingers spread my legs out and push my butt up in the air. He finds his way inside of me, massaging both clitoris and deep within. I'm on display in the most exposed way, and yet it's both sexy and incredibly arousing.
Then he surprises me by sliding his finger inside my ass.
"Is this okay?"
"Yes," I mumble into the pillows.
"Open your legs wider," he instructs. And I do as he says.
I grab on to the pillow with both hands. He slides something hard inside of me.
When I look back, I realize that it's not his cock. It's something else, a vibrator that he had shown me jokingly earlier.
I like it in there. It fills me up. When he turns it on, my whole body vibrates. He continues to tease my clit. And his finger in my ass makes me feel like he's piercing me wide open.
Every part of me is plugged, except for my mouth that suddenly feels very vacant.
"I want you to orgasm," he says and before he can finish that request, I do.
I've already been close and he pushes me over the edge. The vibrator continues to buzz as waves of pleasure rush through my body, and I mold and muffle myself with the pillow.
Afterward, I can barely feel my legs and I tell him to climb on top of me and I don't have to ask twice.
My body reaches peak relaxation as he pushes himself in and out of me, and I grab on.
And just as he orgasms, I feel the second wave come over me, but it doesn't quite reach.
"That was sexy," he says, pulling out of me. I only briefly remember the condom, but luckily he didn't forget.
"That was more than sexy," I say, lying in the glow.
I close my eyes and grab onto his hand, intertwining our fingers.
"I love you," I whisper.
“I love you, too.”
12
Dante
Lying together afterward, I look into her eyes and I wonder how I got so lucky. It's not just that she's so good in bed. It's more than that. It's the way that our bodies connect and our minds seem to just get each other.
Yet, there's this nagging feeling that remains. I can't stop myself from thinking of all the things that could have been or probably should happen.
I have no right to be here with her.
I have no right to lie to her about my past, about the reason why we ran into each other in the first place.
And yet, here it is.
I know that were she to ever find out, she'd probably never want to talk to me again. That would be it, the end of our relationship. For that reason and that reason only, I can't bring myself to push her away.
I never knew that we would have this kind of connection. In fact, I've never had this kind of connection with anyone in my life.
My brother has always been my brother; someone there, mildly annoying, who understood where I came from and what drove me and what caused problems in my life, mainly our parents.
He had similar struggles and that's what connected us to each other. We both hated our dad but strived for his acceptance, and didn't want to admit that. And when it came to our mother, things were even more complicated.
Lincoln found Marguerite early in life and at first, I thought that relationship would never last. There's no way that anyone would put up with my brother for that long. But as time passed, I realized that I was wrong and that it was me who was the fool. It was me who kept going on these dates and finding these women that I had nothing in common with. And the sex wasn't even very good.
With Jacqueline, the world is opening up.
She hasn't been many places and I want to show her the world, but I want to also experience all of that again with someone, through brand new eyes. I never thought this would be possible.
Yet here she is, lying in these sheets before me, her eyes closed, her arms tucked under her pillow, her hair tossed over the pillow. She breathes steadily.
One breath in, one breath out.
When I move my body just a little bit, she shifts as well. She's a very light sleeper. I have learned that.
I, on the other hand, will fall asleep and it will take the loudest alarm clock to get me up.
I tell myself to be quiet. I tell myself to give her a chance to rest. She has an early flight in a couple of hours to a new city, and she hasn't been on a plane in a long time. I worry about her now
.
When I proposed that she apply for this position, I was only looking at what I needed. Now, suddenly the possibility is becoming very real.
What if this isn't the best thing for her?
What if something goes wrong?
What if they were to uncover who she really is?
Would that put her life in danger?
I don't know the answers to any of these questions and I worry, staring out at the blank wall in front of me, thinking of all the possible answers.
I have to get a few hours of sleep, but I can't relax. Instead, I grab my clothes and sneak out. I bring my laptop, phone, earphones, as well as shoes and workout gear. It's a lot to take moving around like a ninja in a dark room, hoping not to wake her.
Luckily, it's a suite and once I'm outside the room, I flip on the light in the corner, knowing that it won't bother her.
There are floor-to-ceiling windows and I look out into the distance at the world that is still asleep and won't be fully awake for some time now.
The lights are on in only a few windows at the hotel I can see from here. There's no one walking the street below but there are a few cars, probably taking people to early morning flights.
I open my laptop to do a little work, the work that I've neglected over this long weekend, but my mind doesn't focus. I need to get some exercise. I decide to go downstairs to the hotel gym. All nice Marriotts have them and they typically only get busy around five in the morning and in the evenings. It's only three.
I take my iPad, lace my shoes, and bring the room key. The gym is expectedly empty. There are treadmills in the corner, weights at the other end, and a row of elliptical trainers. I get on the treadmill.
I walk first on a steep incline, a ten percent grade, setting the speed to 1.5, then 2.5, then 3. I try to do some work, go through my emails, but my mind doesn't focus so I put on an audiobook and turn up the speed to run.
I haven't run in a while and I feel it in my bones and muscles. My hamstrings ache, but I push on. I grabbed a little cup of water when I came in and I force it to my lips to hydrate. It's nowhere near enough, but it feels good running down the back of my throat. I run for a long time this morning. I lose myself in the story and vary the speed, taking small breaks here and there, but I keep running.
My body starts to feel engaged, energized. I know that in five or six hours I'm due for a crash, but I couldn't sleep anyway. Why not take advantage?
I have suffered with insomnia for many years. I've taken medications, a variety of pills, and about two years ago, I weaned myself off. Slowly but surely, the pills are sinister. You take them to get rest. It's not as perfect as a real night’s sleep, so you wake up a little groggy every day. But after a while, you can't not take them.
It becomes an addiction. I relied on them for a while and then quit cold turkey. Not being able to hold on and go back, I tried different brands but they all had the same effect.
Eventually, I managed to quit. Since I continued to gamble, my insomnia wasn't that much of a concern. In fact, being able to stay up late without stimulants is a big positive in casino life. You can imagine everybody else who was downing their 5-hour Energy drinks and their tenth cup of espresso. I would just be able to stay up naturally, powered by my own inability to sleep and rest.
I probably aged a decade during that time. I tried to drink a lot of water, to stay in shape, to keep myself hydrated. I didn't smoke cigarettes like everyone else, but the insomnia was threatening me. I just couldn't deal with it anymore. Depression set in, and after losing a lot of money, I had a hard time moving forward.
I told Jacqueline about this last night. She listened carefully, nodding her head, reaching over and intertwining her fingers with mine.
I didn't need her sympathy. I just needed her to understand where I was coming from. We need to know our history in order to make sure that we don't repeat it.
This morning's run makes me so weak I want to lie down on the floor and never get up.
But after ten minutes of catching my breath, I realize that it's exactly what I needed. I am spent and exhausted to the point of actually being able to sleep. I don't bother with the shower, but head straight upstairs and climb into bed as quietly as possible. Jacqueline tosses around a few times, but then she turns away from me and I close my eyes and drift off.
A few hours later, a loud alarm clock blares on her side of the room and it takes me a good few beeps to actually force my eyes open.
13
Dante
The sweat from the run had dried leaving my skin covered in a thin layer of residue. My head throbs and I wish I could sleep for hours longer. Jacqueline rubs her eyes and raises her arms over her head. When the sheet falls down exposing her breasts, she quickly pulls it back up, slightly embarrassed. I reach over and pull it back down and pull her back toward me.
Then I kiss her.
"What's that for?" she asks.
"Just a good morning kiss," I mumble and press my lips toward her again. She kisses me back.
Her mouth is parched, and I'm sure that mine is, as well.
"Oh my God. I'm sorry, but I have to brush my teeth.” She pushes me aside.
Pulling the sheet around her, she heads to the enormous marble bathroom with a huge Jack and Jill sink with two big mirrors in the middle.
I stare at the deep soaking tub in the corner and I regret that we didn't take advantage of it last night.
I look at the time, and there's no way that we can manage anything but a quick shower. I give her another quick peck on the back of her neck as she brushes her teeth vigorously, her mouth full of toothpaste.
Jumping into the shower, I make it as quick as possible. The cold water feels good against my skin, waking me up. I put a little bit of shampoo, followed by conditioner, through my hair, let it run over my body, and quickly get out in less than three minutes.
"How about I join you in there?" Jacqueline says, looking disappointed, but still with the sheet wrapped tightly around her.
"I just wanted to give you as much time as possible. We don't have that much time.”
"Oh, yeah.” She makes a sad, pouty face.
I also arranged for my flight last night. I'm headed to Salt Lake City, leaving her to go to Seattle by herself.
We haven't fully made our plans, and I may fly up to see her in Seattle afterward, depending on how my meeting and her interview go.
I brush my teeth, facing out from the sink, staring at the water washing down her beautiful body. She prefers water about ten degrees warmer than I do and steam quickly starts to billow out from the top.
"You're going to fry in there," I say, starting to laugh.
"I'm good. I like it nice and hot."
When she emerges, her cheeks are bright red and her skin is activated, but she looks happy.
"I'm surprised it doesn't put you to sleep," I add. "I force cold showers on myself just to get me moving in the mornings."
"Yeah, well, you're used to waking up at this ungodly hour," she says with a smile. "I need every comfort that I can muster just to get me through the day."
Jacqueline grabs the bathrobe from the back of the door, but then changes her mind, adjusting the position of her towel instead. Her makeup bag is out in the living room, and I follow her out, unwilling to put up with the heat for much longer. It’s only a matter of time before my pristine white dress shirt gets sweaty yellow pit stains.
"You know, I thought that we had so much in common, but now I realize that we do things very differently," I say, picking up the phone to order our breakfast.
Half an hour should be plenty of time to get downstairs to the van that will take me to the terminal.
Jacqueline sits on the edge of the bed with her leg tucked under her butt, applying makeup while peering into her compact.
"You know, you could use the mirrors back there, except that you fogged them up,” I say.
”Ha, ha, very funny.” She rolls her eyes in my direction. "No, th
e light isn't that great in there."
She points her face at the sun. I watch as she makes an expert line over her eyelid and then fills it in with shadow. Her cheeks are still red, but as the minutes tick by, they return to their natural pale color, enough so that she actually adds some rouge right at the top.
She remains in nothing but a towel the whole time, and it takes everything within me to not rush over there and pull it off of her.
I tell her this in not so many words, and she warns me back, "We don't have time."
You always think that right before a long separation you're going to have these moments of togetherness where you really connect, or at least that's what happens in the movies, right?
But in reality?
In reality, your girlfriend sits on the edge of the bed, applying foundation, and you scroll through ESPN on your phone, not wanting to open your work laptop until absolutely necessary.
With all the time that I have spent traveling, I've become kind of an expert at last-minute work. Now it's finally going to come in handy.
Before, I would do work around the clock; in the hotel room, at dinner, lunch, whenever I could. I billed the hours, and that was it.
But now with Jacqueline in my life, I’ve found another way to maneuver around it; sitting at the gate, on the airplane, while she takes a nap, when I have even ten or fifteen minutes when I excuse myself to use the bathroom. I take a dump for about five, and the rest, I reply to emails and do everything else that's absolutely necessary to keep me from getting fired.
Cedar and I are staying in touch. He's actually happy with my work. The last time we spoke, he told me so. That makes me smile because I'm doing approximately a third less than I normally would, but as long as he's happy, who am I to complain, right?
"How do I look?" Jacqueline asks, coming out of the bathroom after drying her hair and then curling it.
"Wouldn't it curl if you were to just air dry it?" I ask, clearly showing my ignorance on the subject.
"Yes, somewhat, but all the curls would be in all different directions, and the bottom parts over here would be especially tight, and the top would be somewhat frizzy.”
Dark Sins Page 7
