A Captivating Conundrum (18 page)

~ Hers ~

"You're gonna end up alone. Let me rephrase." I glared into Mark's already stoned eyes and wondered if there was even an ounce of brain matter left in there. His resume was not a shocker: out of work, cheating on his girlfriend with one of the local tramps who'd do anyone and anything for a beer—he'd always been a loser Even in high school he was either stoned or drunk. He'd found out early on that those were the things he was really good at, so he'd stuck to them religiously. 

"You want some, Beth?" he grinned.

"I want to punch your rotted teeth down your throat." 

"Oooh, feisty."

I sighed. "Mark, you so much as touch Christie again and I will make sure the cops are called. Do you get that?"

He belched, sending his horrific breath into the atmosphere, making my eyes water and my stomach lurch. "I didn't slap her around for crissake. I haven't done that to her in years. I just had a little somethin, somethin on the side. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is you hurt her, jack-off." 

"What are you gonna do, sic Bobby on me? I think I can take a homo."

Bringing my knee up, the large man stumbled forward and hit the ground…hard.

I looked at Mary behind the bar. "Looks like Mark's had it for the night."

Smiling, Mary nodded to two workers; they came forward, picked the louse up and called him a cab. Boy, I felt better.

Heading back to the table with Matt's beer,
finally
, I sat down quietly, not wanting to interrupt the obviously serious conversation.

Matt looked at me and smiled. "Jerry was telling me all about Missy."

My heart felt warm when I thought of that lady. She'd been so nice to me when my own parents had passed on. "She was a great woman."

Jerry nodded. "To be fair we were also talking about you."

"Oh, God," I mumbled, wondering what Jerry had said to warn him off. That was his shtick, you see. Jerry always treated me like his daughter, making sure that no guy had a chance to get close to me. Either he would scare them off with the cane he carried by his side, or (and this one was my absolute favorite), he'd tell them I was a nice gal, now that I was on my medication. Then, he would go into the long story of how I went crazy and killed my last boyfriend with a hatchet.

"Don't mutter over there, young lady. I was just telling Matt what a fantastic writer you are and how much we love you here." 

Matt nodded.

I looked at Jerry in confusion. "Huh?"

Standing up, Jerry tilted his hat to me and kissed my cheek. Leaning in, he whispered, "This one I like."

I jumped back, completely shocked at the words I never thought I would hear come through his lips in a million years.

Jerry laughed and stuck out his hand to Matt. "Pleasure, son. And, remember, time doesn't matter if the cookies are good."

As Jerry disappeared into the crowd, I heard him call out to the regulars and head for the door. I turned to a smiling Matt. "
What
?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Just a nugget of true wisdom for a young un' like me." 

Thirteen

~ His ~

The music grew stronger as the night wore on.

I sat for a while watching Beth dance out on the floor with her friends. She even sang a few for the local gang, who looked at her like fans look at me. Beth certainly had the voice—she even sang her favorite song to Jerry, choosing him to be her
Piano Man
as she gave tribute to the great Billy Joel. When the music exploded, she began swaying on those amazing legs and gyrating to the drumbeats with an ass so tight and perfect I had to force myself to stay seated as the erotic fantasies filled my mind. Her moves were as good as any I'd seen. So good, in fact, I was completely lost in the vision on the dance floor.

When she came back to the table, with a very sweaty Chris by her side, I handed her my beer.

She looked at me oddly. "So, song and dance man, why are you just sitting here?"

"Bobby and I were just enjoying the stunning view." I winked.

Christopher glanced at Bobby and offered him a wide smile.

"Besides, I'm waiting for the tango," I added. My eyes walked up Beth's form. As I reached that beautiful face and saw the pink glow of her cheeks as she stared down at the ground, my breath caught in my throat.  I loved this side of her; the side that seemed so innocent and untouched by the gazes and compliments of men. 

Chris sat down. "You should have it, pal. This woman is good, let me tell you." 

Beth remained silent.

Reaching up, Chris took her hand and grinned. "I have to say, when I first met you I said this in jest but I must now admit that I finally know what it means when they say, 'there
is
one woman who can turn a gay guy straight.'"

When Beth burst into laughter, I carefully rose from my seat, took her hand from Chris's grip and led her back out to the floor.

It was
so
my turn.

~ Hers ~

It was as if the gods were against me. 

The second we made it to the dance floor the music softened, the lights dimmed and the most seductive song that has ever been written appeared from out of nowhere.

Without a moment to gather myself, Matt pulled me into his arms and locked me there. The rhythm we had, the steps we took, and the way our bodies moved in time with the soft beats and the lilting strings that echoed in my skull, had me feeling as if we were commencing foreplay in front of one and all.

I tried to breathe. I tried to swallow. I tried to understand that he was doing nothing more than his signature moves. I mean, he was a dancer—and a fantastic one—so Matt was simply doing a learned routine, and I
had
to get my brain out of the place that wanted nothing more than to rip the shirt from his muscled chest, and do my absolute best to see if I could change his kindness into outright passion.

~ His ~

The 'gentleman' and I were having difficulties. The night went on and on. The songs played, and I sang to Beth one of my own. I hoped that the enticing lyrics would get her to feel all the heat that I was drowning in. I moved, I flowed, I sang until I thought my lungs would bleed. I heard the applause and I made friends with everyone in that bar, but I never took my eyes off her.

When the music for the tango emerged, I knew the gods were smiling on me. Suddenly Beth's body tensed against mine and I felt her arms go rigid against my chest, as if she were already trying to push her way out of the grip that I was not going to release. In fact, if a voracious lion appeared behind my back at that moment and tried to take a swing at me, I wouldn't have taken my hands from Beth's waist. After all, the animal wouldn't have been the only voracious male in that bar.

 I sang into her ear, forcing her to turn with me as I placed my hand on the top of her thigh and moved my fingers slowly down her leg, wishing with all my heart that Beth had chosen to wear a skirt for our evening out on the town. I placed my hand on the back of her knee and lifted that long leg over my hip, pressing against her, proving to her how badly my body craved the feel of her bare skin against mine. The heat penetrated the denim and when Beth threw back her head all I wanted was to hear a moan…a scream…anything to let me know that she was feeling the same insatiable need I was. Placing my hand on her lower back I dipped her toward the floor, exposing that long, sweet neck to my sight. I wanted to kiss…lick….bite, use my lips to excite Beth to the point of distraction—to the moment where she took my hand and led me to the car to finish what we'd begun on the dance floor.

When I sang, Beth locked eyes with me and I watched her study every movement. Passion glowed in those eyes, and I silently prayed that she was feeling the same intrigue as she watched the exact same fantasy play out inside her mind.

…But when the night came to an end and the four of us drove back to the house, we reached the top of the stairs and stood across the hall from each other in utter silence.

I felt like falling to my knees; begging was pretty much all I had left. This was the woman I wanted, and Jerry was right—there were no rules. It didn't matter if it was two hours, two years, or two days—when you knew, you knew. Thinking of Jerry, I issued a small laugh at his perfect advice.

Beth's goodnight came sweet and quick. The kiss on my cheek was fast, and when she closed her door all I wanted to do was cry.

~ Hers ~

I leaned against the door knowing he was still out there. I could have, if I wanted to be every woman I've ever hated, gone back out and humiliated myself until he felt sorry enough for pathetic old me to give me the closeness I craved.  

I shook my head, remembering the small laugh and sweet smile on his face that I
knew
was every nice man's way of saying a casual 'goodnight.' At least walking out with Chris at the end of the evening and ignoring the highly erotic thoughts I had racing through my mind, had turned out to be a good thing. Especially now that I knew – judging by Matt's polite goodnight – that he wanted nothing more from me than friendship.

I
was
glad he had fun…he'd laughed, met a lot of people, made friends—and we'd danced. When he took the microphone and sang, I was absolutely mesmerized as he put on a show for the crowd that was beyond outstanding. Matt had even looked straight at me when he sang a few. The sexy look, the beautiful face filled with emotion…man, he was good at his job. And all I could think about was how much I truly hated the woman who would one day win his love. She would have that voice in her ear night after night for the rest of her life. And I suddenly wanted some sort of psychic gift so I could 'look her up,' transport myself to her home, and kick her ass straight into the open jaws of a hungry shark waiting in the beautiful waters off Malibu. At least she'd be gone.

Sighing, I headed to the shower. I had to get this guy out of my house before I made a complete and utter fool of myself.

Fourteen

~ His ~

The run was so needed this morning. The night had not been calm; too much beer, too much sweat and way too many erotic dreams about the girl who lived, literally, right across the hall.

Friendship wasn't the way to go. Erotic wasn't the way to go. I needed to speak her language; I needed to make sure that I could get Beth alone so we could just talk. Bobby had said Beth wasn't even aware of the things she did to a man so I had to explain it to her. Nicely, of course, not like some overzealous teenager. 

I felt the blood rush through my veins as I sped up. I tried to think about the script, what I had to say and the best way to say it. I
tried
to practice my craft. After all, this is what I said I always wanted—a chance to shine with no music and no songs. This would be just me and the audience, and I hoped they would see I had the ability to be one of the very best when it came to acting.

But her face reappeared. I tried to force the feeling of Beth moving against me from my mind. How we'd danced; how I'd taken her by the hips as I sang the words into her ear that described all I wanted to do to her in that moment. It was as if we both stayed far away from any of the soft, subtle murmurings of love and simply went right for the dances and songs that were made to get the blood boiling…and not the heart broken.