Please (16 page)

“
We met at a party, a year after I moved to LA,” he began, his voice flat. “She was a guest. I was a waiter. I was serving cucumber martinis, but she asked me if I could get her a beer. A Miller or something not trying so hard. Her words. I did. We flirted a little. I told her I knew who she was, that I had sent her my head shots, even. She asked me if I was still looking for representation. I said I was. She told me to meet her in the downstairs powder room in five minutes.”

Sebastian looked over at her, his face blank, closed.
“I did.”

Elizabeth searched his face for any sign of what he was feeling, but there was nothing there. Sebastian turned his head, staring straight ahead again.

“That, Elizabeth, is how it went down. So you tell me, who seduced who?” he said.

“
Wow,” Elizabeth said.

Sebastian shrugged. He looked at her again, with a sad smile.
“That’s Hollywood, baby. And it’s not like it hurt, or anything, I mean, you met her. She’s a nice-looking woman. But my heart wasn’t in it. I had to get out.”

“
After she got you
AWOL
, of course,” Elizabeth added.

Sebastian
’s gaze hardened. “Mel works on commission. Twenty percent. She may talk like she did it for me, but I guarantee she didn’t do it for
love
.” He filled the word with scorn.

They sat quietly next to each other for a moment, absorbed in their own thoughts. Then Elizabeth spoke.
“How about this? How about us?” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “What is
this
for?”

Sebastian turned to face her. His eyes were wide.
“You have to ask?”

Elizabeth didn
’t answer, staring at the toe of her boot making tiny circles on the floor.

Sebastian grabbed her by the upper arms, turning her toward him.
“Elizabeth, look at me.”

She did. His expression was as open and earnest as
a child’s.

“
Elizabeth, I love you.”

“
Oh, shit,” she said.

Sebastian laughed, releasing her arms and letting himself fall backwards on the bed. He rubbed his hands over his face, and said,
“Not exactly the response I was looking for.”

Elizabeth swiveled so that she was straddling him, pulling his hands from his face. She let her eyes travel over its planes and angles before looking into his eyes.
“Sebastian, I love you too, but ...” she began.

“
Sh, sh, sh,” he scolded, grabbing her hands and flipping her over onto her back. “Rewind,” he said, pinning her beneath him. “Say that again, without the ‘but.’” He looked down at her, a smile playing on his lips.

She looked up into his eyes, like the depths of the sea, inky, black, unfathomable. She felt the weight and the warmth of his hard body holding her down. She heard his voice, that rich, smoky whisper.

“Say it again.”

“
I love you.”

She was rewarded with a long, slow kiss.

“Good,” he said, pulling away from her and standing up. She lay where she was, limp with wine and lust and spent emotion. “Now I want you to prove it.”

Elizabeth rolled onto her stomach, propping her torso up with her elbows, watching him.

Picking up the pink carrier bag, he sat down on the bed next to her, pulling out a filmy white wisp of fabric and holding it up for her inspection. It was a tissue-thin cotton negligee.

Elizabeth rubbed the fabric between her fingers.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.

“
Perfect for a virgin,” Sebastian said, a slow sexy grin spreading across his face like honey on toast.

Elizabeth looked at him, perplexed.
“Is this some kind of role-play thing? Because I’m a bit too mature for that part.”

“
My thoughts exactly. You’re too old to be a virgin,” he said, sliding his hand down the back of her jeans and between her cheeks.

Elizabeth squirmed away, color rising to her face.
“Oh,” she said.

“
Yeah. Oh,” Sebastian mimicked, creeping across the bed toward her on his hands and knees, leering. “Every time I try to touch you there, you act like I’m your perverted uncle trying to cop a feel.”

“
How did you know about that?” Elizabeth joked, back pressed against the headboard.

“
Isn’t it about time you got over it?” he asked, almost on top of her now, his hand sliding under her.

She wriggled away again.
“It’ll hurt.”

Sebastian let her go this time. She rolled off the bed and they stood, facing each other, the bed between them. Both had their arms crossed over their chests, Elizabeth
’s defensive, Sebastian’s casually defiant.

“
It doesn’t have to, but ...” Sebastian paused, walking slowly around the bed toward Elizabeth, a panther on the prowl. “Remember when we got our tats?”

Elizabeth nodded, avoiding his eyes, her hand straying to the thin line of scar tissue just above her pubic bone. It had scabbed over but was still sensitive.

Sebastian put his hand over hers, applying gentle pressure. “Remember after? In the bathroom?” He moved closer, putting his forehead against hers. “It hurt, didn’t it?”

“
Uh-huh,” she said, a smile twitching on her lips. It
had
hurt. But it been the most intense sexual experience of her life, the feeling of which she could only compare to other firsts: emerging from the dense rainforest in Northern Thailand to the edge of a cliff, staring down on endless, eye-boggling verdant abundance; that final push of childbirth and first glimpse of Keenan’s delivery-scrunched features.

Sebastian lifted her chin and looked into her eyes, a slow smile of satisfaction spreading over his face.
“Sometimes a little pain” – he paused, first gently kissing then biting her lower lip, almost hard enough to draw blood – “makes the pleasure more intense.”

He kissed her again, gripping her hair with one hand while he slid the other down the back of her jeans, separating her cheeks with his fingers. This time, she let him.

Chapter 9

“Wake up, Elizabeth.”

The voice, smooth and rich, like Nina
’s famous flourless chocolate cake, pulled her out of her dream. Sebastian’s hand was warm on the small of her back, his breath hot and moist in her ear. She stretched, wincing. She hurt, a vague burning ache localizing and sharpening as she regained consciousness. Her wrists. Her head. Her throat. Her ...

She rolled onto her back and squinted up at Sebastian who was propped up on one arm beside her, looking at her tenderly.

“Ouch,” she croaked.

Sebastian laughed softly.
“Show me where it hurts,” he said, his voice meltingly seductive. “I’ll kiss it better.”

Elizabeth held out her wrists to him. A faint pink bracelet of raw, swollen flesh ringed each one.

Sebastian inhaled sharply, seemingly surprised at how bad they were.

“
I have sensitive skin,” Elizabeth said, her voice less hoarse now. Still, she had to whisper or she would sound like Marge Simpson.

Sebastian held her hands and placed soothing kisses on the tender pink bands, his lips cool and soft and slightly parted.
“I’m sorry,” he said, between kisses. “I didn’t know you were so ... fragile.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes again. She felt fuzzy-headed and sluggish, but at the same time raw and irritable. The kisses which
had at first been a balm had started to grate. She pulled her hands out of Sebastian’s grasp and, feeling a wave of nausea, rolled gracelessly out of bed, stumbling to the bathroom just in time.

She collapsed on her knees in front of the toilet and retched. A disturbingly red waterfall of bile-soured wine spewed out of her mouth. Elizabeth was so hung-over that she truly didn
’t care that Sebastian could hear her. She rested her forehead on the cool porcelain rim of the toilet, waiting for the next wave to come.

Feeling Sebastian
’s presence behind her, Elizabeth attempted to raise her head and apologize, but Sebastian spoke first.

“
Sh,” he said, kneeling behind her and gathering her hair with one hand. “Just do it.”

She did. Elizabeth vomited until she was completely empty and her body shook with dry heaves. Sebastian held her hair, occasionally rubbing her back or whispering encouraging words.
“That’s it. That’s right, baby. Let it out.”

Her stomach empty, Elizabeth felt instantly better. Her head still pounded and her throat felt like she
’d just slugged back an acid milkshake. Her ribs and back ached from retching and she was beyond exhausted, but at least she wasn’t consumed by that horrible green sea-sick feeling. She lay face down on the cold tile of the bathroom floor. The thought of even standing up made her weak with fatigue.

She heard Sebastian leave and come back. He started massaging her back with his strong warm hands. The tense muscles in her neck and shoulders began to relax. A low moan escaped her lips.

Sebastian straddled her hips, making his way down her back, gently digging into her flesh with his fingers. His touch was firm on her middle back, light on her lower back. Then he started kneading her buttocks. His hands rolled and pressed harder to reach the muscles beneath. Elizabeth sighed, content.

Without warning, Sebastian ran a finger from the tip of her coccyx to the parting between her labia. His touch was feather-light, but Elizabeth tensed, clenching her buttocks together. The
skin there still felt raw.

She tried to raise her head.
“Sebastian, no,” she croaked.

“
Sh,” he said, planting a trail of kisses down her spine. “This time will be different.”

But Elizabeth didn
’t want there to be a ‘this time.’

The
night before, drunk and aroused, she had let Sebastian wrap silk scarves tightly around her wrists and tie her arms to the corners of the bed frame. She had lain on her stomach while Sebastian, using no lubricant other than his saliva, entered her anally. He thrust hard and deep, tearing the tender skin. Elizabeth wanted to cry out, to ask him to stop, but she didn’t. A part of her felt she deserved to hurt. A part of her wanted to be punished.

After he came, he untied her wrists and smothered her with kisses, nuzzling her like a happy pup. Elizabeth lay beside him, her head buzzing with wine and confusion, while Sebastian slowly, agonizingly brought her to climax with his hand. She cried when she came, the tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes. Sebastian kissed them away, and she fell into a drunken slumber, still wearing the white cotton negligee.

She was wearing it now, lying on the bathroom floor. Sebastian flipped it up over her hips and squeezed a cool slick of KY jelly into the crack between her buttocks.

“
Sebastian ...” she said again and tried to lift herself off the floor, but she was too weak.

Sebastian raised her hips up slightly, reaching for her clitoris. His fingers were slippery with lubricant as he rubbed, slipping over the tiny nub of sensitive nerve endings. Elizabeth felt herself becoming aroused, despite herself. Sebastian rubbed until he sensed Elizabeth was on the verge of orgasm. Then he plunged into her lubricated anus, still rubbing her clitoris furiously. Elizabeth felt a sharp knife of pain as he entered her at the same time as she started to come, a spiral of pleasure starting inside and throbbing outward. Sebastian thrust just three times, each push intensifying Elizabeth
’s pleasure, and he came, falling on top of her.

He pulled out quickly and lay down beside her, molding her body to his, spoon-style. They
lay like that for a few moments. Then Sebastian spoke.

“
Tell me you love me.”

Elizabeth wriggled around until she was looking at him. Her eyes searched his face. His dark eyes were wide and vulnerable.

“I love you,” she said, a half-smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Damn it.”

A broad grin lit up his face. He pulled her to his chest.
“Good. Now, this floor is colder than a witch’s tit, and your breath smells like the alley behind Ted’s Beer Barrel on a Friday night, so I’m going to let you get cleaned up. See you in bed.”

Sebastian helped her up to
her feet and left the bathroom. As she brushed her teeth, holding onto the sink for support, Elizabeth looked at the woman in the mirror and silently asked, “Who the hell are you?”

*

When Elizabeth woke up again, it was dark outside and her cell phone was ringing. She groped for it, noticing that Sebastian wasn’t in the room.

“
Hello,” she said, her voice still hoarse with sleep.

“
Well, ’allo.” It was Nina. “You sound very sexy. Like Demi Moore. You were sleeping?”

“
Um,” Elizabeth began.

“
Oh, you don’t have to be ashamed, Liz,” Nina said, confidentially. “When I was in Paris last year without Marc and the children, I had a nap every day. It was
so
nice.”

“
It is nice!” Elizabeth stretched luxuriously. A few hours of sleep had made her feel human again. And hungry.

“
You are having a good time?”

“
Oh, yes.”

“
And you went to that club, like I told you?”

“
Yep.” A picture of the dimly lit club flashed through Elizabeth’s mind. That’s where it all began, she thought.

“
And danced?”

“
Mm-hm.” She pictured Sebastian at the nameless Latino bar, whirling her away from him, reeling her back in.

“
Fantastic! You will tell me everything when you come back. Do you need a ride from the airport? The kids have a party tomorrow, but Marc can take them for a change. I am sick to here of musical chairs and these stupid games.”

Elizabeth laughed.
“No, Steve’s picking me up. But you can use me as an excuse if you want.”

Nina made a strange French noise in the back of her throat.
“I have not seen Steve. Your mother has been at the school.”

“
Yeah, he’s supposed to get back from Tucson today.” She pushed the guilty feeling creeping from the edge of her mind back where it came from.

“
Oh. Okay. Enjoy your last day of freedom! Or, I should say, last night.” Nina sang.

“
I will.”

Elizabeth hung up, flopping back on the pillow. She had slept away her entire last day with Sebastian. She thought of the bottle of wine she had drunk, and briefly, of Mel. Something Sebastian
’s former lover had said flashed through her mind. She could hear Mel’s insinuating voice. “Has he started to hurt you?”

Elizabeth shook her head to dispel the image. It wasn
’t like that, she thought, pulling the white negligee over her head and reaching for her bathrobe. There was a streak of dark red near the hem, she noticed. Blood.

Just then her phone trilled again. Elizabeth looked at the caller display.
Abbie.

“
Hi, Abbie,” she said in what she hoped was a guilt-free, cheery tone.

“
Lizzie! How are you? Did you have a nice time with Mel?”

“
Well, she got me completely hammered on Malbec and we had a nice little chat.” Elizabeth paused for a moment. “That was pretty low, Ab.”

“
Just looking out for my client’s best interests,” Abbie said, sweetly. “She gave you a lot to think about, I’m sure.”

“
Mm-hm.”

“
Good,” Abbie said with finality. “I’m having a little impromptu soiree for some of my authors at Ching-Dow tonight. It would be great if you could stop by for a bit. Cathy Miller’s going to be there. Remember I told you about her? She’s the one who writes the paranormal-mystery-romance-cookbooks? And Georges Lemieu, the transvestite erotica writer. You can smell the smoke a mile away, he’s that flaming, but he’s so much fun! And a couple others. So what do you say?”

“
I’ll try to make it,” Elizabeth said, not even fooling herself. This was her last night with Sebastian. As if she would spend it swapping hair-removal tips with a man in a dress.

“
Lizzie,” Abbie sang, warningly, “don’t tell me you have other plans.”

“
Um,” Elizabeth said.

She heard
Abbie sigh. She could picture her shaking her head, black ringlets bobbing.

“
Networking with other authors is very important to a writer’s career,” Abbie said, slowly. “A lot more important than say, oh, I don’t know, making the beast with two backs with a known serial philanderer.”

“
Abbie ...”

“
Just be there, okay, Liz,” Abbie said wearily before hanging up.

Elizabeth stared at the phone in her hand.
“Shit,” she said. What was she going to tell Sebastian?

Elizabeth had just started the shower when her cell rang again. She picked it up, bringing it
into the bathroom with her.

“
Hey, Big Apple Tart,” Emily’s deep voice purred, full of amusement.

“
Ooh,” Elizabeth said, laughing. “I bet you’re proud of that. How long did it take you to come up with it?”

“
Totally spontaneous,” Emily laughed, clearly lying. “You having a good time?”

“
Well, I was,” Elizabeth complained. “But Abbie just called and she’s insisting I come to this party she’s having tonight and meet the literary world’s answer to Rupaul and some woman who writes cookbooks for ghosts.”

Emily snorted.
“How quickly we become accustomed to big city life. My entertainment options for this evening include a tractor auction at the state fairgrounds or a Little League game. I’d love to swig cosmos with Newpaul.”

Elizabeth laughed.

“Oh, you’re laughing now,” Emily joked, “But you won’t be laughing tomorrow when you’re back in Fairfield with us, and the highlight of your week is when organic raspberries go on sale at Hy-Vee.”

“
Don’t remind me,” Elizabeth groaned. She was complaining mainly for Emily’s benefit. Secretly, she was looking forward to the lack of options Fairfield represented, to its mundane routines and security. She was quietly afraid of who she had become without the restrictions of small-town life and family obligations. She wasn’t sure if she knew who she was anymore. Elizabeth opened her robe and looked down at the tattoo on her abdomen, running her fingers over it as she half-listened to Emily talk about the latest indoor soccer fiasco. It was healing, but still tender to the touch.

Outside the bathroom, she heard the sound of the room door clicking open. Sebastian was back. Elizabeth
’s heart immediately started beating faster.

“
Oh, God, sorry Em. I’ve got to go. They need me to, ah, you know, complicated movie stuff. I’ll call you when I get back,” she said, locking the door. She needed a few moments to herself, to think. Plus, her mouth still tasted rancid and she needed a shower.