Alice skipped over her criminal past and the scar tissue on her uterus. She told Andrew everything else, just as she promised: the miscarriage, the depression, the pain, how she wound up in Jackie’s arms. Every feeling and thought she’d had over the past 11 months, she laid bear for her husband. An hour had gone by when she finally stopped talking. Andrew struggled to maintain his composure but he could not hold back the tears. He was genuinely heart broken, the first time since Monique LaSalle, whom dumped him 3rd French in high school. Continue reading
kiss
Chapter Eight
StandardI need you.
The text was vague, especially after all that had happened. Andrew was still concerned. The heart-to-heart with Desiree gave him all the insight he needed. He wanted to make it work with his wife. He began his own message when another blue bubble appeared.
At the station.
His U-turn was sharp and wide as he flipped on his siren and barrelled down the street in the direction of his job. He felt his heart skip a beat when he pulled in 8 minutes later. He asked a few officers about his wife as he sped through the building, leading him to the homicide squad room. Alice sat next to Detective Foreman’s desk, shaken with tears falling down her face. “Babe, hey, what happened?” he said, kneeling in front of her. She wrapped her arms around him and sobbed uncontrollably.
VII
StandardThe place was quiet, outside of his shallowing breathing, perfect for what they needed to accomplish. The giant stood nearby, preparing himself for the next round of punishment.
Martin was fading in and out of consciousnes. He had been their hostage for about 8 or 9 hours and he was ready for them to kill him. The man that worked him over never said a word to him; just constant torture. He used his ribcage as a punching bag, broke bones, and even sliced into his skin with a surgical scalpel. Begging and pleading fell upon deaf ears: he wasn’t the person in charge.
Siren
StandardAll it took was one deep breath and the room was ablaze.
The women were captivated. The men were enthralled. Cascading through the room, all of the eyes were on him and his instrument. He told a story to the crowd; one of seduction, one of love, one of the raw passion that lie deep within them all. Every chest rose and fell to the melody of his march. He was the hypnotist and they were hypnotized. This was a tale to be told over and over, one that he could never complete, one that consumes his life. It was his work, his lover, his religion, his consolation. It made him smile, made him cry, pissed him off but still clung to his skin like the sweat on his back.
So they danced again. The hot stage lights burned him, beads of sweat rolling from his hairline, down the crease in his forehead and down his face. It was a small price to pay for the love and he paid it every single time. He put his all into the music, even though his shoes were too tight and his back had begun to cramp. Small price to pay. The music radiated from him like a pheromone, ensnaring the unattached women in the joint, the women who had shimmied into tight dresses and tall heels for him; women who burnt their ears and applied and reapplied rouges and powders to impress him. He was a simple man. His woman was not a vain nor jealous lover; she was always patient with him when his attention was diverted because it would only be for a moment. She knew that soon, his rough and warm fingers would careen around her and it would only be a moment before his lips were wrapped around her and when they were, what a glorious sound! She was his siren, his muse, his Aphrodite. She owned every part of him and he gave himself to her willingly.
So they entwined, their tangled webs drifting through the air and surrounded those in earshot. The world fell away and littered at his feet, nothing but rags of stress and dissatisfaction. Nothing gave him the feeling of the humming in his feet, the sway in his hips, the tap of his shoe. Nothing mimicked the moment of escape, no one could guide him from the darkness, away from the flame. The room was ablaze and he would burn for it.
Chocolate High
StandardHow can I tell you no when you shake me in parts I never knew of? You only want me because you know what you do to me. You get your kicks on my yearning, how bad I want you to touch me there, to wrap your fingers around my love for you. Even after my world fell apart, even after you broke my heart. I wasn’t enough. I wasn’t “her”. The words were there, sure, but the rest of it, the parts that matter don’t belong to me. They belong to her, wait, to her, no no, for sure they’re hers. What did I do to deserve this feeling? I just wanted your body; how dare you make me love you? How could you whisper in my ear, all the ways you need me, literally sweet nothings that made me cling to you tighter and give you every single little drop…? How did we get here? What voodoo do you do and where the fuck are my panties??? My brain is screaming to me, trying so hard to shut me down but damn, my body’s humming to that strumming. This body is a slave to you & I’m trapped in my mind, trying to rationalize our betrayal. The wrong thing is on my mind, this love I’ve been burning for; baby it’s hers. Mine isn’t up for grabs, I took it away so long ago. Can someone please inform my loins? You never belonged to me, so what is it about this flame? Why does it still burn so hot for you and why do I keep getting burned?
How To Say No
StandardDevin got hard instantly. It had been almost a year since he had sex and he still hasn’t been able to control his urges. The woman on the screen was half naked and bouncing around. He thought any masturbating, again, but decided not to send turned the TV off. He heard shuffling in the hall, then someone saying “Dammit.” He stood up, adjusted himself and stuck his head out his door. It was his neighbor, Gabrielle. She was struggling to hold a box and open the door at the same time. He stepped out the door and grabbed the box from here. She turned and saw who it was. “Oh hey,” she said, smiling at him. They had been playing cat and mouse since she had moved in, but he kept his distance; he didn’t want to start another meaningless relationship. She got the door open and let him in. “What’s in the box?” He asked, stepping into her apartment. Gabrielle had dedicated half her place to her art studio; easels, buckets of paint and splaterred tarps littered one half of the room. “More supplies. You can put it over there,” she said, pointing to a corner. He sat the box down next to her latest work, some art form he couldn’t decipher. “What’s this?”
“Just something I’m working on. An image I can’t get out of my head.” She walked over towards him and looked at the easel with him. He could feel her body heat next to him and he just wanted to turn and touch her. “It’s beautiful. I told you, you need to open up a gallery.”
“Yeah well…I’m looking into a floating gallery.”
“Floating?”
“Yeah. Basically they operate out of pop up locations and stay for a short time before moving on.”
“That sounds cool,” Devin said, moving around the section of room. He glanced at her as she stood watching him. She work exercise clothes, a tank top and stretch pants that hugged her thighs. He turned and looked at her full on, intent in his eyes. “Close your mouth. You’re drooling,” she said, stepping around him to unpack the box.
She knew he was watching her. She wanted him to. For six months, she had been hoping that he worked up the courage to ask her out, to come over one night and do all the things she imagined. She found it frustrating and spoke before she has a chance to rethink. “So, why is it that you have yet to ask me out?” Devin was blindsided by the inquiry. “What?” He said, trying to make sure he heard her correctly. She stood up and went back to him. “Well…obviously you’re attracted to me. I’m… Very attracted to you. What’s the hold up?” She asked, putting her hands on her hips. Devin sighed and sat down on the stool next to him. “It’s, uh, kind of a long story,” he said.
“I got time.” Devin ran his hands down his thighs, trying to find the best way to explain. “My last relationship ended on a pretty bad note. After that, I kinda slept around and made some bad decisions. After a while, I just decided to not partake anymore.”
“So…you’re celibate?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow. That’s beautiful. It’s very rare that a man can do that, remove sex so they can find something…special.”
“I’m not exactly looking. Just hope I happen upon it soon. I…didn’t ask you out, or anyone else, because I wasn’t sure how you would take it. It hasn’t been easy.”
“I believe you. But you can do it,” she said, punching him lightly in the arm. “But I have wanted to ask you out. I’ve wanted you for a while,” Devin said, looking at Gabrielle. She smiled at him, before planting a kiss on his cheek. He touched her face and pulled her into a full kiss. Her lips were soft and he melded into them and it excited him. She moaned before putting her hand on his chest. “Wait, are you sure? I dont wanna compromise what you’re doing,” she said.
Devin weighed his options. He knew he wanted her, badly, but he wasn’t interested in just another romp, especially with someone in such close proximity. “If I asked, would you go out with me?”
“if you asked, yes,” she said, smiling, her hand sliding down his chest. He pulled her back towards him and kissed her again. She held back, not wanting to pressure him into anything. Yet, he stood and picked her up and carried her to her bedroom. “Devin,” she whispered. He laid her down on the bed. “Are you sure?”
“Very,” he said, pulling her tank off. He pulled his own shirt off and laid on top of her. He cupped her breasts in his hands and kissed her hard. His lips moved down, kissing her neck, chest and stomach. She bit her bottom lip as he worked her pants off. He nearly exploded when he saw her in her black lace thong. He watched her squirm and he couldn’t think of anything other than being inside of her. He closed his eyes and stood back from her. “I’m sorry,” he said. Gabrielle sat up and looked at the expression on his face. “I’m sorry,” he said again. She got up and put her pants back on. “Hey, its OK. I…” She said. She couldn’t find the words. She had never been in this situation before. Devin straightened himself back out. “I’ll see you,” he said, leaving out of the room and heading for the door. Gabrielle followed him and stopped him. “Hey,” she said, grabbing his arm. She kissed him softly. “Call me.”
Pillow Talk
StandardHe had been watching her for a while.
She laughed loudly with her friends, taking occasional sips of her Cosmo. Her hair was slicked back neatly into a ponytail, accentuating her face.
He had finally worked up the nerve to talk to her, pouring the last of the whiskey into his mouth. “Amanda”, but her friends called her “Mandy”. They talked, she flirted; batting her long eyelashes and touching his arms. She took the final sip of her drink and he could tell she was already drunk, even though it was only 9pm, even though she did her best to remain poised.
Let’s get out of here.
The motel was clean enough. She paid no mind to its order; she was too excited about being entangled in the arms of this beautiful man. They stood in the doorway, entertaining the empty parking lot with their kisses and groping. She gasped as he bit her ear and kissed her neck. She wrapped her leg around his waist and pulled him closer to her. He lost himself in her perfume, pushing his face into her bosom. They made their way to the bed, the heavy door snapping shut behind them. He tossed her onto the bed, sending her down with a squeal and a giggle. She began undressing and kissing his body. He was beautiful, muscular and lean. She opened his jeans and took him whole into her mouth. He moaned at the feeling. It has been so long since he felt this way. He gripped her ponytail and guided her head in her motions, giving her as much as she could handle. She felt his legs quiver and she stopped to shed her clothes.
Take me now, she moaned, laying back onto the bed.
The pillow was on her face before she couldn’t react. He was on top of her, pinning her arms to her side. She screamed into the fabric, muffling her voice as she fought. Confusion, fear and survival flooded her mind as she fought but he smashed the pillow harder into her face. In a brief moment of clarity, she searcher her mind frantically for an answer. Surrounded by darkness, her thoughts grew foggy, her screams quieted and her jerking stopped. She felt herself slipping away, out of the bed, somewhere else.
Then she was still. He held her for a moment longer, angry tears sliding down his face. His breathing quickened and his heart sank down to his stomach. It wasn’t his heart that escaped from his throat but bile that escaped out onto the floor. Now he had nothing.
He wiped his mouth and sat on the edge of the bed and dug into his pocket for the newspaper clipping. The picture was one he had taken on his daughter’s 8th birthday, the pair of them smiling brightly. He had finally gotten the monster that took his family away from him. He reread the clip again: Mother and daughter slain by drunk driver. Now he had nothing. No wife, no daughter, no obsession.
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