started asking for more? How many things could leave her lips that would make me want to put my face on hers? She couldn’t stay so attractive for long. She’d burn herself out soon enough, but for the time being, I could not have created a more flawless woman.
I felt bad about bruising her, but I hadn’t done half the damage her ex-boyfriend’s piece had done. What a dick. And as soon as I saw that guy, what he’d done, and the way he looked at her, I wanted her for myself. I knew she was going to ask for exclusivity, I could see it in her face, and once I saw that piece, I was ready to give it to her. The thought of her getting hurt bothered me. It wasn’t her personally as much as it was wrong to make their private business so public. It wasn’t that hearing her cry made my fist clench, or that I felt as though I saw some shameful part of her she’d wanted to keep hidden. It was an overall, amoral wrongness. Could have been anyone, and I would have been just as mad.
Well, maybe not as mad.
Damn. I should have taken her home. I had a weird compulsion to reach out to her.
—Thank you for tonight. I’ll call you during the week to check on that baseball—
—You’re welcome—
A flat, emotionless response. Odd. I regretted letting her out of arm’s reach.
—Speaking of…They’re playing the Mets the day after I get back—
—Ok good night—
I sat back. Not even a joke or wisecrack. I shouldn’t have cared, but I did. My phone dinged again, but it wasn’t Monica loosening up. It was Jess.
Interesting that Erik wasn’t there. He usually followed her around like a little beta puppy. Exactly what she needed. Half a man. I took a calming breath and called her.
“Jess.”
“Jon. Where are you?”
She didn’t sound good, and if I judged the whooshing background right, she was already home.
“Coming up LFB.” Our shortcut for Los Feliz Boulevard, from when I was whole and had someone to make up little acronyms with.
“Are you alone?”
“Lil is driving. What’s wrong, baby?” I could have guessed it was Erik, but she’d never admit it.
“Can I see you?”
I looked at my watch. My plane was scheduled out of Santa Monica at six. I could make it if I left Venice by four. If history was any indication though, I’d be out of there in an hour. I wished I could tell her no, but we had too much history, too much intimacy to just turn my back. So I let Lil take me home, then I got into the Mercedes and went to Venice.
Again.
***
Jessica lived on the beach, as her publicly sunny demeanor demanded. I parked and walked up the long stairway to the back, where the pool overlooked the ocean. The furniture was gone, as was the barbecue. She stood alone at the half empty bar with her glass of white wine, still wearing her flowing white dress. It outlined the shape of her body in the breeze, making me think immediately of pulling her legs open, but gently. That brought my hot little goddess back to mind, because with her, gentle was optional. I should have nailed her in the car, bruises or no. I wasn’t any less aroused than her, and now I was in a dangerous position. I wanted to fuck. I had a weight at the base of my cock that needed to drop, somewhere, somehow.
“Jess,” I said when I could see her puffy eyes. “Wasn’t there a party or something? After the opening?”
“I couldn’t take it any more. Smile, talk about popsicle sticks and culture’s effects on childhood memories. Smile. Answer process questions about keeping dead trees alive. Smile again. How are you?”
I snapped a glass off the rack, and Jessica poured me some wine. “I’m fine, really. You called me over here to ask me how I am? It looks like I should be asking you the question.”
She barely paused before getting to the point. “Erik.”
“I thought you were engaged.”
“So did I. Do you want to sit?” She indicated the indoor patio behind sliding glass doors.
The thought of going inside and lounging on a
I felt bad about bruising her, but I hadn’t done half the damage her ex-boyfriend’s piece had done. What a dick. And as soon as I saw that guy, what he’d done, and the way he looked at her, I wanted her for myself. I knew she was going to ask for exclusivity, I could see it in her face, and once I saw that piece, I was ready to give it to her. The thought of her getting hurt bothered me. It wasn’t her personally as much as it was wrong to make their private business so public. It wasn’t that hearing her cry made my fist clench, or that I felt as though I saw some shameful part of her she’d wanted to keep hidden. It was an overall, amoral wrongness. Could have been anyone, and I would have been just as mad.
Well, maybe not as mad.
Damn. I should have taken her home. I had a weird compulsion to reach out to her.
—Thank you for tonight. I’ll call you during the week to check on that baseball—
—You’re welcome—
A flat, emotionless response. Odd. I regretted letting her out of arm’s reach.
—Speaking of…They’re playing the Mets the day after I get back—
—Ok good night—
I sat back. Not even a joke or wisecrack. I shouldn’t have cared, but I did. My phone dinged again, but it wasn’t Monica loosening up. It was Jess.
Interesting that Erik wasn’t there. He usually followed her around like a little beta puppy. Exactly what she needed. Half a man. I took a calming breath and called her.
“Jess.”
“Jon. Where are you?”
She didn’t sound good, and if I judged the whooshing background right, she was already home.
“Coming up LFB.” Our shortcut for Los Feliz Boulevard, from when I was whole and had someone to make up little acronyms with.
“Are you alone?”
“Lil is driving. What’s wrong, baby?” I could have guessed it was Erik, but she’d never admit it.
“Can I see you?”
I looked at my watch. My plane was scheduled out of Santa Monica at six. I could make it if I left Venice by four. If history was any indication though, I’d be out of there in an hour. I wished I could tell her no, but we had too much history, too much intimacy to just turn my back. So I let Lil take me home, then I got into the Mercedes and went to Venice.
Again.
***
Jessica lived on the beach, as her publicly sunny demeanor demanded. I parked and walked up the long stairway to the back, where the pool overlooked the ocean. The furniture was gone, as was the barbecue. She stood alone at the half empty bar with her glass of white wine, still wearing her flowing white dress. It outlined the shape of her body in the breeze, making me think immediately of pulling her legs open, but gently. That brought my hot little goddess back to mind, because with her, gentle was optional. I should have nailed her in the car, bruises or no. I wasn’t any less aroused than her, and now I was in a dangerous position. I wanted to fuck. I had a weight at the base of my cock that needed to drop, somewhere, somehow.
“Jess,” I said when I could see her puffy eyes. “Wasn’t there a party or something? After the opening?”
“I couldn’t take it any more. Smile, talk about popsicle sticks and culture’s effects on childhood memories. Smile. Answer process questions about keeping dead trees alive. Smile again. How are you?”
I snapped a glass off the rack, and Jessica poured me some wine. “I’m fine, really. You called me over here to ask me how I am? It looks like I should be asking you the question.”
She barely paused before getting to the point. “Erik.”
“I thought you were engaged.”
“So did I. Do you want to sit?” She indicated the indoor patio behind sliding glass doors.
The thought of going inside and lounging on a
Similar Books
