by Jamie Knight
Maybe if we pretended to be together, I could get a better sense of if that was what Chris wanted.
Chapter Six - Chris
I decided on Koran. It was a bit of a risk. Chinese probably would have been safer, but I knew a really great Korean place near the hospital and while my grasp of all dialects of Chinese was loose at best, I had a pretty strong command of Korean. I liked to know what it was that I was eating.
I set out of the office earlier the usual, much to the shock of everyone there. This being a rarity on par with Halley's Comet.
“You feeling okay?” Aden asked.
“Better than ever.”
“What?” Aden asked, hearing Camilla snicker.
“Nothing,” his fiancée said.
“What the heck is going on!” asked a perplexed Aden as I reached the elevator.
“Remember when you told me to decide how I feel about Shae?”
“Yeah.”
“I did.”
The elevator closed before he could ask me any questions, and I was able to laugh at the dumbfounded look on his face.
Almost whistling as I made my way to the car, I hopped in and took off, the first chapter of Men Who Hate Women, released in the US as The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, starting up on the stereo. The smooth Swedish verbs flowing out like water.
There were no ambulances out front, so I pulled into the front loop, hoping to heck that Shae would be ready. She only had a staff meeting at work, so she was able to go out to dinner. Turns out, I knew her pretty well even after such a short time, and it was less than a minute between the engine dying down and Shae getting into the passenger seat.
“Naughty boy,” the nurse teased, doing up her seat belt.
“I have my moments,” I said, pulling out of the ambulance driveway just slow enough not to get a ticket.
Parking at the restaurant was pretty easy to find. It was still pretty early in the day, and most of the commuters on the road were more concerned with getting home than where to go get a bite to eat. The post-Lunch drop, as my brother liked to say.
“Where is everyone?” Shae asked.
“Trying to get home without getting shot.”
“That's pretty dark,” Shae said.
“Yet sadly true. I've learned how to avoid confrontation at a young age. Part of how I've lived so long.”
“How old are you?” she asked, looking skeptical.
“Thirty-one, but that's beside the point.”
“No, I would say that's very much the point actually, particularly considering that I'm a year younger than you. I don't feel like I'm about to keel over.”
“Well, no, but women live longer.”
“Not that much!” she laughed.
“Agree to disagree,” I said, unable to keep from smiling.
“Was that a joke?”
“My stars and garters! I do believe it was!”
I held the car door open for Shae. I knew it wasn't needed, but I still liked to do it. Going so far as to hold out my hand to help her up out of her seat.
“Why, thank you, kind sir,” Shae said, not mockingly.
“No problem at all,” I hummed, feeling a spring in my step.
Given our choice of tables, we took one near the window, so we could keep an eye on the setting sun and the Vegas lights. The waiter came by with a menu for Shae before heading back to the kitchen.
“Where's yours?”
“They know what I want,” I explained, leaning back and putting my arm along the top of the booth.
“How?”
“I always get the same thing.”
“Of course, you do.”
I considered asking what the heck she meant by that but realized that I knew full well. It wasn't exactly comfortable for Shae to figure out my oddities, but I assumed it would have to happen sooner or later, and in a way, I was glad that it seemed to be sooner. The more comfortable she got with me, the more natural this all would be.
“I can't read this,” Shae said, looking over the menu.
“Oh, right, sorry, I forgot to ask for the English version.”
“You read Koran.”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
She shook her head slightly. “What's good?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“Well you clearly eat meat, pork anyway. Do you like spice?”
“Some yeah, not a lot, though.”
“Allergic to shellfish?” She shook her head. “Good.”
“You have some suggestions.”
“Three, all of which are about the same price.”
“Okay, get whatever you think I'd like.”
“That's a lot of trust,” I pointed out.
“I know.”
The actual eating part of the outing went reasonably well. Shae really liked what I ordered for her and had eaten most of it before I had really started. Her chopsticks skills were truly impressive. For a while, I wondered if I might have to get her a fork. Turned out, she was a lot more worldly than I had assumed. I made a mental to avoid embarrassment in the future.
“So, what are we going to tell your family?” I asked, distracting her attention from the food.
“Could we tell the truth?”
“Odd, but let's roll with it. We met at the office?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, we did really. Granted, I was stalking you at the time, but still.”
“Don't say that. You were perusing me for sure, but the feeling was mutual.”
“It was?” Shae asked, seeming taken by surprise. A pink blush covered her cheeks.
“Of course.”
“Camilla helped.”
“We can work that in, too. I mean, we first met when Aden invited you to the office party, and Camilla helped you get closer to me after. It is pretty romantic when you think about it.”
Shae smiled and looked down at her plate. “I guess, yeah. Okay, what else?”
“Well, we're engaged, obviously.”
“That will make my mom happy,” Shae admitted, playing along.
“And buying a house together.”
“Wow, big commitment.”
“We're ready for it, I think. I mean, we're already picking out baby names.”
“W-we are?” Shae asked, sounding shocked.
“Yeah. I was thinking Bridgit for a girl and Logan for a boy.”
She was practically grinning at this point. “Those are really nice, actually.”
“I know.”
“Don't forget Jeepers. We also have a cute little kitty.”
“Indeed!”
It went on like this for a while, weaving quite the life together for ourselves. One I couldn't help but want for both of us. It sounded so lovely. Not just for me but for Shae as well. I really did want her to be happy. I wasn't really ready to admit it, even to myself, but I loved her.
“Would you like to see my place?” I asked, opening the door for her as we got to the car.
“Sure,” Shae said, without a hint of hesitation.
We listened to the radio as I drove home. I figured Shae wouldn’t enjoy the Swedish book, at least, not yet. The ride felt comfortable. Nothing was forced.
As I unlocked my front door, I realized it was the first time I'd had a woman, or really anyone, in my apartment since I'd moved in. Not that it was a stereotypical bachelor pad. I had figured out years ago that I didn't do well in disorder. As such, my apartment had reached an IKEA level of aesthetic organization.
“These are beautiful,” Shae said, looking at my wall of advertising art, ranging from 1890 to 1945.
“Thanks.”
“Are they originals?”
“Oh no, just lithographs.”
“What's that?”
“Somewhere between an original and a print.”
She gasped and pointed. “Is that an ad. for—”
“Heroin. Yup, developed by Bayer, the aspirin people, to get people off of morphine. It was actually an official brand
from 1898 to 1918.”
“Wow. Bet they leave that off their 'about us' page.”
I laughed. “I would imagine, yeah.” I crossed the room, putting my hands gently on her shoulders. “Would you like a drink?”
“Sure, do you have any beer?”
“Um, no. I don't actually like beer. I’m a self-proclaimed wine snob.”
She laughed. “Have anything red?”
“Pinot Noir or merlot?”
“Um. The first?”
I grinned at her. “Coming right up.”
Pouring out two glasses of my favorite merlot, I joined Shae on the couch, handing her one of the glasses.
“Is this one of your favorites?” Shae asked, after her first sip.
I nodded. “It’s the only way to impress a lady.”
It felt good to be so close to her. I tried to separate my emotions from sex, but it was challenging, particularly with Shae. I wanted to put my arm around her but really didn't know how she would react. The last thing I wanted to do was make her feel uncomfortable.
“I wonder how Jeepers is doing,” I said, trying to keep things light.
She giggled. “Honestly, I have a different pussy in mind.”
“Huh?”
“Sorry, I-I'm really excited,” Shae said, whispering the last part and leaning in to kiss me.
“You are?” I stuttered.
By way of proof, she gently took my hand and slipped it down the front of her skirt. My fingers slid up against her warm folds that were damp with desire. “Oh.” I pushed one up inside of her pussy, feeling the hot, soft walls quiver with anticipation. The feeling made me gasp. Shae was ready to go.
Immediately, so was I.
“Bedroom?” Shae asked.
“Are you sure?”
“Definitely.”
“This way,” I said, gently slipping my hand from her pussy.
Shae was down to her panties by the time we got into the bedroom, apparently quite skilled at shedding her professional clothes.
Evening things out, she slipped off my suit jacket and started unbuttoning my shirt. Kissing her way down from my neck to my belt, she started unfastening my pants, sliding them down easily.
My cock was hard when she pulled my boxers down, not hesitating for a moment before taking it gently in hand. She had seemed a bit nervous the last time, which was understandable. She was pretty tiny, and I was more than endowed. This time, Shae seemed to have gotten over her fear, soon sucking my fully hard cock like her life depended on it. Loving the feeling, I took a gentle hold of her ponytail, guiding her and limiting her head movement.
Getting me to fill her mouth with cum, Shae swallowed it all down, maintaining eye-contact as she did so. It was extremely hot. Taking her by the shoulders, I helped her to her feet. Shae's hand was still holding my cock while I was kissing her passionately.
“Want to lick me?” Shae asked, breathlessly against my lips.
I nodded emphatically, too excited to speak. Shae lay down at the edge of the bed, opening her legs wide in welcome. Taking her lightly by the ankles, I got onto my knees and gave her a long slow lick along her sweet, pink pussy lips. Shae moaned her approval, and I kept going along the same theme until she literally vibrated as she came.
Kissing my way along her soft, warm body, I worked my way back up to her mouth, kissing her lips deeply. I was in position to slide my cock inside her.
“Ready?” I asked.
“Yes, please!”
Consent given, I slid the head of my cock against her pussy before easing it in her, getting in about halfway before she started to look uncomfortable. I eased back a bit, Shae's entire body relaxing as though breathing a sigh of relief, letting me know that my first instinct had been correct. Giving her a moment to get used to the feeling, I started to move, working in her slowly. Shae's pussy tightened around me, seeming to not want to let go. The longer I pumped, the more relaxed Shae got, letting me pick up speed, building up to a steady, moderate rhythm. She moaned and gasping with delight as I fucked her.
She felt so good it didn't take long for both of us to cum. I slipped two fingers inside her to assist with her orgasm while getting my cock to her mouth to deliver a second helping of the cum she honestly seemed to love.
Massaging her pussy while she came down, I repositioned Shae so I could get on the bed next to her. Kissing lovingly, we embraced until we fell asleep.
Chapter Seven - Shae
Time is an imprecise thing. Physicists and philosophers have been working on the time question for centuries and have still barely started to understand it. It seemed unlikely then that any one of them could explain to me how three weeks, nearly a month, could go by so damn fast.
Once out meet-cute was set, Chris and I kept dating, and fucking, casually for the next three weeks until the reunion. Each passing day seemed like another tick of the Doomsday Clock. Not only because I was basically marking time before I had to see Ellis again, something I swore I would never do, but also because I had no idea what would happen with Chris when it was over. Would we stay together? Or get more serious? Break apart entirely?
One thing I did know was that it was starting to feel a lot more than casual. I couldn't stop thinking about the fictional life we had built together, particularly the house and the kids, and it seemed more like a possibility. I only wished we were on the same page in terms of our relationship and not in what seemed like a Friends-With-Benefits situation. It just felt like we were so in tune. I was happy where we were but saw the potential for so much more.
Change came on quick, as was often the case, and unexpectedly. I just thanked my lucky stars that my bedroom had an on-suite. I doubted I would have made it down the hall if push came to shove, which it just had. Last night's midnight snack was liberating itself from me. I was ridiculously hungry recently.
Jeepers showed his support by meowing as loud as he could and scratching at my leg through my sweatpants while I was doubled over. It was the third time that week. I would have loved to pretend that I didn't know what was happening, but I had been a nurse too long to not recognize the signs. My mind spun, trying to figure out how it had happened. Chris and I hadn't really used condoms, but we had also been pretty careful. Except when I had been on top and hadn't been able to get off him in time. That would be it. He had cum in me.
Hauling myself up from the cold porcelain, I shambled into the bedroom and tried to make myself look halfway presentable to polite society. I had the day off from the hospital, a rare mercy indeed, and there just happened to be a big box drug store on my block. I knew better than to trust any single commercial pregnancy test entirely, so I got four from different brands, the consensus being the final proof. I got a bit of a sideways look from the clerk, but he held his tongue, leaving the jokes no doubt rioting in his head unspoken.
I stared at the positive results, my mind reeling with what to do. Should I tell Chris? Would he be happy, or would it scare him away entirely? He had been the one who brought up baby names, seeming to have given it some thought. Though that could have just been him getting into the act. He was nothing if not organized. I wanted to tell him but didn't want to risk losing him and decided to keep it quiet for the moment.
Chris was early to the coffee shop, coming as a surprise to no one. Already sitting with a large hot chocolate, going over a binder of art drafts because, of course he was.
“Hey,” I said, sitting down across from him.
“Hey,” he replied, leaning in to kiss me, putting the binder safely away first.
“What did you want to see me about?”
“I have something for you.”
“Oh?”
Conjuring an elegant, ivory-colored envelope, seemingly out of nowhere, he handed it to me, his face unreadable.
“What is it?”
“Open it and see.”
I did as instructed, carefully slitting the side of the envelope with one of the two knives already set on the table, not want
ing to completely destroy something so beautiful and pulled out two opera tickets.
“H-how?”
“My mother is the lead, she gets them for free,” Chris said casually.
I admired his modesty. If my mother was a headlining opera star, it would likely be one of the first things I would say when meeting someone new. I knew a bit about his family, mostly how he didn't connect to them, but this had been the first time he'd mentioned that his mother was an opera singer. I couldn't help but wonder what his dad did. It would be pretty funny if he was a conductor or something.
I'd never been to an opera before, let alone in an opera box. When we went later that day, Chris even rented those little opera glasses and dammit if I didn't feel like a princess! I had thought I had left such notions long behind me, but apparently, it took someone like Chris to remind me of it.
The performance was gorgeous and moved me in ways I didn't think possible. Since the divorce, I hadn't really had time to indulge myself. I was mostly just trying to keep my head above water. It was a bold move, but I reached over and squeezed his hand. An act of intimacy to be sure but one that felt right, and he didn't seem to mind, gently squeezing back.
The intermission came, and we went down to the lobby for over-priced food and drink, Chris paying for everything I wanted. I was a bit embarrassed to be treated like that, but he pretty much insisted.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“It was amazing!” I enthused mouth full of fancy canape.
“I'm glad you like it,” Chris asked, seeming embarrassed.
“You don't?”
“Sure, I do. It is excellent. I just don't seem to feel the same soul-shaking reverence that most people seem to.” He grimaced. It was like he was bracing for impact like he expected me to mock him for not getting into the show or try to educate him on the wonders of music. Something I was pretty sure he would have heard a lot from his family.
“It's okay, people react differently to different things,” I said, gently squeezing his am.
“Don't I know it. My parents are music people, then again they had my brother to dote on, look at him now, one of the main vocalists in Dante Street Massacre,” he said, looking at the floor.
