Wet (23 page)

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Authors: Ruth Clampett

BOOK: Wet
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Wow. So now a man having sex with his wife is cheating on her?
The wife did not impregnate herself. He would’ve had to want to have sex with his wife. I guess she can’t accept that.

“So that must have pissed you off.”

“You have no idea. I broke up with him for almost a month that time.”

“Why did you get back with him?”

“He needs me. I’m who he should be with—he’s an incredible, dynamic man and she’s just a housewife.”

“Actually, she’s a mom, and that’s a big job . . . with four kids that’s a really big one, I bet.”

“Whose side are you on?” she asks with a stern expression. I suddenly notice that up close her skin isn’t so smooth after all.

“Side?”

“Oh, let me guess you want kids, too.”

“I do. So I take it you don’t.”

She purses her lips as she shakes her head. “No, I don’t.”

As I watch her sip the last of her drink I marvel that I was once so crazy for this woman. She just seemed so intriguing compared to the other girls in high school. She projected the feeling that she had important things ahead of her and the talent and confidence to get her there. And I have to admit that she was the only girl I ever wanted who didn’t succumb to my charms, so that made her all the more desirable in my eyes. Now that I’ve got her full attention she’s a two dimensional woman with apparently no soul, and not the slightest bit interesting to me.

She looks up at me with one eyebrow arched like she knows a secret. “So I’ve heard quite a bit about you, Paul.”

Wait . . . did she just bat her eyelashes at me?
Oh hell no.

“Yeah, what did you hear?”

“That you’re quite the beast in bed.”

I almost spit out the ice cube that’s been rolling around on my tongue.

She leans toward me and speaks in a soft voice. “It is true that you partake in orgies?”

I watch the flush of what I sure as hell hope isn’t arousal crawl up her long neck as she bites her lip, waiting for my answer. “Why do you want to know?”

She chews on the tip of her olive pick. “Because I’d like to try that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’ve been with women before. My college roommate turned me onto the wonders of that scene, but I’ve only ever done one-on-one.”

I’m speechless. Melanie is bi. That’d be really hot if I liked her a lot more than I do right now.

“My boyfriend that I just mentioned really likes to watch me with another woman.”

“Really? How modern of him.” I gesture to the bartender for the check.

“What’s the most women you’ve done in one orgie?” she asks, leaning even closer.

“I think the stories about me have been exaggerated.” I hand the bartender my credit card without taking time to open the folder to check the bill.

“Well, I’ve heard straight from the source about your many talents.” I feel the tips of her fingers graze my knee as I slide the credit card back in my wallet.

So is this why she wanted to see me?
I’m not even sure in my craziest times that I would have fucked her after hearing all that I did tonight. I may have screwed women I didn’t have anything in common with during my sex fiend days, but I never screwed someone I didn’t like.

I manage to get her outside claiming a really early morning at work. We’re standing next to the building at the valet station—waiting for my car and her Uber—when she suddenly turns and leans into me, pressing me against the building.

“Why don’t you come for a drink at my place?”

If I push my disappointment with her aside, I can’t deny that it feels really good to have a beautiful woman this close to me after two dry years, but there’s no way I’m going to her place.

I choose a vague reply. “Tonight’s not the night.”

She leans her face into my neck and skins her teeth along my stubble while she slips her hand into the back pocket of my jeans. She moans as she squeezes my ass and pulls me against her. “We could have such a good time,” she whispers.

My head starts swimming, it’s been so damn long since anyone has rubbed against me like I was the flint to their flame. I shouldn’t be surprised when she kisses me. Honestly, I’m trying so hard to focus on her home wrecker ways, and not her naked with another woman, that I don’t see her next move coming as her tongue slides in my mouth and tries to take control of mine. She’s moving over me like hot lava and with the resulting roar in my head I barely hear the valet clearing his throat and jingling the car keys.

Holy hell.

My eyes pop open and I peel her off me so I can hand the guy a ten and get my keys.

“You sure?” she asks as the Uber driver tries to get her attention.

I do what I did so many times back in the day and it makes me feel dirty but I do it anyway—the McNeill brush-off. It’s all in the presentation. I take her chin in my hand and run my thumb back and forth along her jaw, while looking in her eyes like I’m peering into her soul. “I’ll call you,” I say just loud enough for her to think she heard me right but can’t be sure.

I may be a liar too, but at least it’s to avoid hurting someone.

She winks with the thrill of what she imagine is up ahead, and turns on her heel before sliding into her ride.

I take a deep breath to get my bearings as the Uber guy drives off.

Thank God.
Free at last.

 

I’m numb the next day. How do you process so much shit at once? The girl that had lingered on the edge of all my fantasies as a young man, has now taken a swan dive right into never
ever
land. I should be relieved to be free of all of those years of frustration but I’m more pent up than ever.

The feelings remind me of Chelsea, a girl I was really into my first year of college. I sat next to her in the History of Landscape Architecture class and we started talking. I’d never met anyone who had such similar taste to mine and shared my passion for landscape design.

She was beautiful too, in that quiet way that didn’t shout for attention. We had coffee after class once in a while, and we even studied together, but every time I’d ask her out for anything not involving schoolwork, she’d brush me off. I was falling for her, and her disregard of my obvious interest in her was making me crazy.

Right after our quarter-finals there was a department party, and I was hoping she’d show up so I could finally connect with her the way I’d hoped. Well, she showed up all right. Not only was she wearing a short skirt and make-up, she hard- core flirted with at least half-a-dozen upperclassmen, but avoided me completely. I was initially confused, then gutted, and finally angry.

I left the party that night with a thick shell cemented over my heart, and a redhead from our program on my arm. By morning, I felt high realizing that wild sex with strangers could be my crack. My days of chasing the
right
girl were over. The new me embraced the pleasures of being with all the wrong girls who put-out, and never made me feel like I wasn’t important enough. Instead these girls made me feel like a porn star and my ego inflated like a hot air balloon.

Unfortunately, for me casual sex, like crack, was incredibly addictive. My constant craving for release, led me into an insatiable obsession that I may always struggle with. I’m not sure what would’ve happened if my Dad hadn’t forced me to get my shit together.

As the afternoon passes it weighs on me that Elle called me late last night and didn’t leave a message. She knew where I was going and probably now wants a full report. Do I tell her about the kiss with Melanie, as disingenuous as it was? I’m not sure if she’d be happier if I had found a love connection, or disappointed. That mysterious part of her is usually a turn-on but right now it’s just unsettling. It’s too soon for me to upset her again. I’m determined to tread carefully so I decide to wait to call her until I’m ready.

But when I get home from my after-work run she’s sitting on the stair leading to my front door chewing her thumbnail. I’m sweaty, winded, and gross.

Great . . . just great.

She grins and gives me a little wave. “Hi Paul!”

“What are you doing here?” I ask, not hiding my alarm. I’ve never given her my address. It’s not like where I live in Beachwood Canyon is around the corner from Studio City.

Her eyes grow wide. I guess that isn’t the greeting she was expecting. “I was waiting for you.”

I peel the sweaty shirt away from my chest. “I can see that. Are you okay? Everything okay with the baby?”

“Yeah, it was a rough day at work but we’re okay.”

I finally remember my manners. “Do you want to come in?”

“Are you sure? You act like you don’t want company.” I can tell she’s trying not to not assume anything.

“How’d you get my address anyway?”

“Your mom. By the way she wants me to remind you that there’s no family dinner this week. They’re going to visit your aunt.”

I nod. “Yeah, I remember.” I jog up the steps until I reach her and I hold out my hand. “Let’s go inside. I just have to jump in the shower.”

She nods. “While you shower, do you have anything I can eat? I was so busy I didn’t have time today.”

“Elle,” I say in a stern voice.

She holds up her hand. “I know, I know.”

“You have to take care of the two of you.”

“That’s why I’m asking if you have any food.”

I let us in the house and head to the kitchen. “How about a turkey and cheese sandwich?”

“Perfect. Thanks.” She leans against the kitchen counter as I wash my hands and then watches me throw the sandwich together. I pull out some grapes and carrot sticks from the fridge and make a pattern with them around the plate before handing the sandwich to her.

She grins. “That’s so pretty.”

I shrug. It’s no big deal and she needs to eat fruits and vegetables. “It’s the designer in me.”

While she eats I gather the clothes I’m going to change into so she doesn’t have to watch me walk through the apartment naked. I know she probably wouldn’t mind that, but we’re still on unsteady ground so it’s better to play it safe. She’s humming a little song in between bites when I head to the bathroom and it makes me smile.

But I’m not even out of the shower for a minute and preparing to shave when she knocks on the bathroom door. I quickly pull a towel around my waist and yank the door open.

Her mouth falls agape as her gaze scans from my shoulders, across my chest, and then lingers right where the towel is wrapped tight. What did she expect?

Her cheeks turn pink as she looks back up to me.

“Your body,” she whispers.

“Yes?”

“It’s amazing. And you’re so tall and handsome too. You could model you know.”

“Uh, definitely not my thing, but thanks. I’m glad you think so.”

There’s a tightness of anticipation in my chest. It wouldn’t surprise me if Elle reached forward and tugged at the towel. I start to get hard just thinking about it.

She blinks, I blink.
Damn,
I want to kiss her so bad.

She sighs and looks at my shoulder and then just beyond.

What’s she thinking?
“You want to take a shower?” I ask, hoping she knows I’m teasing.

“With you?” She actually looks hopeful.

I tip my head sideways and give her a half-smile before I shake my head.

“I just showered, where were you then? I would’ve liked having my back soaped up.”

Her eyes light up. “Just your back?”

She glances down as if she knows the damn towel is starting to tent, but then she reaches out to hold onto the door jam.

“You okay?” I ask, trying to get her to look up at my face.

She nods and clears her throat. “Sorry to interrupt, but I’m kind of dizzy. Do you mind if I lie on your couch?”

“You don’t need to ask that, of course you can.”

“But it doesn’t look like a couch you lie on.”

I roll my eyes knowing she’s right. That’s what I get for buying a designer sofa. All looks but no comfort.

“Do you know why you’re dizzy?”

“I over-did it today.”

I gesture to the doorway just past where we’re standing. “Please lie on the bed. I’m pretty sure I made it this morning.”

She nods and turns toward the bedroom.

After I finish pulling on clean jeans and a T-shirt, I check in the kitchen and grab her unfinished sandwich and a glass of milk. I find her stretched out on my bed with her eyes closed. I set the stuff down on the side table and rest my hand on her calf.

“Hey, you okay?”

She silently nods without opening her eyes.

“I brought your sandwich in. Why don’t you eat some more?”

“Are you mad I dropped by?”

“No, I’m not mad. Just surprised. But now that you know where I am you can drop by whenever you want.”

The corners of her mouth turn up and her eyes pop open. “Really?”

I scoot her legs over and sit on the edge of the bed. “Sure.”

She sits up and picks up the glass of milk, and taking several long sips she starts back in on the sandwich. While she eats she regards my bedroom, and seems to be taking everything in with great interest. It makes me see my stuff with a fresh eye.

She points to the black and white prints framed on my walls. “What’s with all the photos of bridges?”

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