Again (15 page)

He moved his tongue inside her, around the walls of her sex, inhaling the pungency, loving its flavor. She clutched his head, pushed him farther into her wet mound until he would have blissfully drowned. Not wanting her to come just then, he pushed against the force of her hand, released himself, his face wet with her moisture, loving her obvious desire for him.

He shifted, and with his fingers began stroking the orb of pleasure he’d learned about in the arms of an older and experienced lover, a friend of his mother’s who had eagerly schooled him in the craft of lovemaking when he was fifteen. Since his introduction, only on rare occasions had he truly cared about his partner’s total pleasure; if his lover happened to find satisfaction, it was usually secondary to his own. With Rachel, though, he wanted her to know every facet of delight that he could bring her.

His mouth followed a trail upward until they touched on the delicate curves of her breasts. He took a nipple into his mouth, tenderly bit it while his fingers sinuously moved into the folds of her other lips that were moist and hot to his touch. Rachel moaned as his fingers entered her, as her well-spring sucked him in eagerly. He moved his mouth up, gathered her mouth into his, stifling her moans as he trailed his tongue along her own, as his thumb circled the swollen nub of flesh between her thighs, as his other fingers increased their pace, in and out, in and out, until she began to tremble as though in a fit of ague. Her hips swayed upward, unencumbered by shame, abandoned to the ecstasy he was bringing.

His fingers rapidly moved in and out, driving her onward until he felt a shudder go through her. She gasped with her orgasm, mouth opened, eyes half lidded. He had never seen anything so sensuous.

Ready, he shifted his body over her, heard an intake of breath as he entered, a possession so sweet he froze a second to weigh the look of pleasure on her face, a look he hoped to see for the rest of his life. He began a motion, found a rhythm, moving her hips and thighs along with his to a measure, a pace that mimicked their initial dance, first slow, slow, then moving faster, quicker, a heady race seeking a final denouement. His thrusts became desperate as he sought to go even deeper. She groaned and wrapped her thighs tightly around his back, letting him possess her totally. The pallet shook with their pulse, banged the wall, the floor.

A violent shudder snaked through her body, vibrated through his own. She grasped his shoulders, her fingernails biting through his flesh until the explosive quake ebbed to just a tremor. She gasped for air.

He buried his face in the nape of her throat, closed out the world as he inhaled her scent. Still buried deep within her, he slowed his motion, waiting for her to recover so that he could bring her again.

He heard her breaths slow, knew she was ready.

He pushed deeper into her, heard her gasp again. Driven like a madman, he could not stop as he pounded, plunged, and plundered, his lips devouring her mouth, her face, every inch of flesh his mouth could reach.

The blood rushed to his head, and his heartbeats drowned out every other sound. Eyes half closed, he watched her mouth form a perfect “O,” knew she was coming again. Between the whirring of sound in his ears and the gales of his own breath, he heard her scream his name, heard her declare her love in a strangled cry.

Her ecstasy brought forth his own. His body trembled as his seed threatened to overflow the protection shielding her. And for that moment, he regretted the piece of rubber, wishing he could fill her with a child that would be all their own. Heady with his orgasm, he yelled her name and the sound of it reverberated to the cracked ceiling of the room, bounced off the unpainted wood walls. The shaking floor caused the vase with the yellow rose to topple off the bureau. It shattered against the wood floorboards.

“Shut it up, up thar!” They heard a thump beneath them. The landlady was hitting the ceiling with something, probably a broomstick. The anger in her voice shook them from their haze. Looking at each other, they suddenly broke into laughter. He held her body tightly against his, both sweaty and exhausted, until their mirth was spent.

For a long while, they lay together, no words exchanged, none needed for those moments. But all too soon, it was time for her to go. He found that he could barely stand the thought of her leaving.

He held her hand as she moved to rise from the bed. “Promise you’ll see me again.”

She hesitated too long. Her eyes glittered as though she were near tears.

“Joseph, this was wonderful, but…it can’t go on. This…today…cannot happen again. There are too many eyes and ears on me. If we were discovered, I wouldn’t be able to hold my head up ever again, nor show my face to my friends…or my brother. I am so grateful for today, you cannot know how much. You’ve shown me that life is still in me, something I thought was gone for good. And most of all, you’ve made me remember love.”

He stood, held her. “We can find a way to be together…to make love again.”

She pushed him away, her expression wounded. “Is this all you want then?”

He shook his head. “No, you know I want more than this.”

“But what then, Joseph? What can we possibly have here together? There aren’t many places we can live as man and wife.”

“There are places…” he pondered quickly, feeling her slipping away. “In Europe, Paris maybe. We…we could go there.”

“And would you leave all of your wealth and family behind?”

“Trust me Rachel, I have no reason to stay on these shores. If I can have you with me somewhere else, then that is the place where I want to be. But can you leave your brother, your world, and be with me forever?”

When she lowered her head and said nothing, his heart contracted. She dressed, refusing to answer his persistent requests.

She finally stood at the door, and he thought that he had lost her for good.

Before she opened the door, though, she turned to him. “I’ll…see you again.”

Her voice sounded so mournful, he wasn’t sure that she was glad of it.

Then she opened the door and was gone.

T
yne parked her car in a lot filled with trucks, Volvos, and sedans. As she got out, an overwhelming stench of rubber flayed her lungs, causing her to cough. She noticed two Beamers and a Benz in the reserved area. Management, no doubt. Webber’s main office, factory, and ancillary buildings occupied an entire expanse for miles. To the east were a few industrial plants, including a petroleum refinery and a smelting plant, most of which were closed down due to a series of economic slumps. But Webber Tires was still trudging on, if not exactly flourishing.

Tyne didn’t expect much of an interview. She had only made the call as a matter of journalistic courtesy, more than half expecting to be refused, and was surprised when she was not. Alexander Webber had even sounded downright jovial when she called. “Sure, sure thing. I welcome the opportunity to clear things up. How’s Tuesday for you?” They scheduled to meet at nine the next day.

She was wearing Hush Puppies low-heeled pumps this time. She needed the extra comfort to offset what would likely be a very tense interview, despite the owner’s seeming acquiescence. She fully expected to be bullshitted, to have to wade deep in defensive rhetoric, but that was OK, she was ready. She would let them have their paragraph; the real story was the community and its residents.

She followed the shrubby path leading to the front of the red brick building. A glass door didn’t ameliorate the dingy ugliness of the facade, which was exacerbated by the surrounding gray adjuncts whose large smokestacks belched out gloomy, grayish black plumes. The whole picture was depressing. As was the sunless sky peering darkly upon the concrete landscaping. Not exactly Dickensian, but definitely not corporate modern chic.

Through the glass doors, a few feet ahead, she found the bare bones reception area that fronted a cubicle network. The blonde sitting at the desk was bleached, starched, and rouged, but nothing could mask the wear of time. Crows’ feet defied the pink pearl lipstick, and brown-gray roots stood starkly against the strawberry blond frizz. Tyne imagined that the woman had sat in that same chair for decades with no expectation or desire other than bringing home a biweekly check and relaxing each night at her local bar. Tyne noticed the ringless finger. Either dearth, death or divorce. Or alternative lifestyle.

“Yes, whom do you wish to see?” The diction was overly precise.

“I have a nine o’clock appointment with Mr. Webber. The name’s Tyne Jensen from
Elan
magazine.”

The woman brightened. “Oh, yes, he’s expecting you.” The woman buzzed the intercom, picked up the phone, and announced Tyne, her head bobbing. She hung up.

“Right this way.” The receptionist rose from her seat, the action hitching an already short, hot pink leather skirt up fleshy, varicosed thighs. Tyne heard the swish of nylon rubbing together as the woman led her through a maze of interconnecting cubicles where mostly women sat entering data on prehistoric looking computers. Tyne was briefly reminded of her years at the
Clarion
. The same office ghetto peopled by underappreciated females. In this case, all white. The receptionist stopped at an office along the southwest wall. Inside, a fiftyish-looking man sat at an oversized cherry wood desk adorned with two gold pens upright in an embossed stand. Standard office gear that usually only impressed the owner. The gold nameplate with black lettering read
ALEXANDER WEBBER
. He had been scribbling something with an ordinary Bic pen on a pad, but looked up on cue as the receptionist entered. Tyne had the feeling that the “busy owner” scenario had been staged for her benefit. The receptionist left them alone.

Webber rose and came around the desk, his right hand extended. “Ms. Jensen.” He shook her hand with two hearty shakes. “Glad to meet you. Please, have a seat. Would you care for a cup of coffee, or tea perhaps? I believe we have herbal.”

Tyne shook her head. “No, no thank you. And again, thank you for your time. This shouldn’t take too long. I just need to ask a few questions to clear up some points on the story I’m doing. I’m going to record for accuracy,” she said as she took out a small recorder from her bag and turned it on.

“Yes, yes,” he said smiling. “I understand that there’ve been a few unfortunate incidents with a couple of our drivers. And before you get to your questions, let me just say that those drivers have been severely reprimanded. We here at Webber are dedicated to environmental safety and would never knowingly jeopardize the comfort or safety of our neighbors.”

Tyne shifted in her seat. “That’s good to know, Mr. Webber. But, correct me if I’m wrong, this isn’t the first time your company has been cited for illegal dumping. I checked the EPA’s records on Webber Tires, and found at least five earlier infractions.”

Webber shook his head, the smile gone. “Those were trumped-up allegations,” he said sternly. “There was never any connection to us.”

“But the old tires found dumped had your brand on them.”

Webber sat forward, his blue eyes lucent spheres surrounding small dots hardly amounting to pupils. “Let me tell you something about how vicious this business can get. Yes, those tires had our name on them. But anyone could have bought those tires at any auto body shop. We distribute to many places, Ms. Jensen. Now, I’ll admit that these latest incidents were our doing, and I’ve taken care of the matter. But there’s no way I’m going to admit to any wrongdoing that someone else has been throwing off on us. After all, it’s my family’s name on this business.”

Tyne heard the shake in his voice, and knew that she had a potential powder keg here. She’d run into his kind before, pleasant so long as you stuck with “soft” questions that didn’t ruffle or threaten to make them look less than saintly. She wasn’t about to buy into some convoluted conspiracy theory that defied reason.

“Why would anyone want to frame you for illegal dumping? What’s to be gained?”

He shook his head at her like she was woefully naïve. “Competition in a niche industry gets ugly in a shaky economy. If Webber accrued enough violations, we might be forced to shut down, which would make our competitors very happy, considering Webber is the forerunner manufacturer of tires in the Midwest.”

“But, Mr. Webber, someone outside the industry would still say that it was more likely that it was one or more of your employees who was responsible. What makes you so certain that it wasn’t one of your employees?”

He leaned forward, his fingers templed. “Because on those dates we supposedly ‘dumped,’ I had no drivers out.”

“How convenient,” Tyne said, keeping her voice neutral.

He leaned back, the smile reappearing. “Yes, convenient. But true. And make sure you put that in the article.”

Tyne was already editing the information in her head. At least, he’d admitted to the current dumping. She would put his theory in the story and let the readers decide if that on five occasions someone set Webber up.

“So, I’m assuming there’ll be no more dumping in the Roseland community.”

“You can rest assured that there’ll be no more problems from us.” He smiled the benevolent smile of an angel.

Tyne figured that smile hid a whole lot of sins, but she didn’t have the time or resources to do much digging. She got little else from him, not even the names of the offending drivers.

Twenty minutes later, she barely responded to the cheerful good-bye from Ms. Bleached and Rouged as she exited the building.

“I hate when I’m being lied to,” Tyne said between bites of spiced coleslaw. She had already torn through a serving of rib tips that left her fingers stained with Ruby’s special ginger BBQ sauce. Her sisters sat in the other chair of a corner booth a few feet from the door, their usual place at Ruby’s Original Soul Food. It was busy for a Wednesday evening, but that was how good the food was.

“Well, what did you expect him to say?” Tanya asked, licking sauce from her own fingers, then mimicked, “Oh, yes Ms. Reporter, I did the dirt and I’m gonna keep on doing it, too.”

April, the newlywed glow still apparent on her face, chuckled. “I’m with Tanya. He was hardly going to admit more than what it took to keep the egg off his face. Sounds like he was playing you from the start. You know, admit only so much to appear cooperative, but then stonewall on the rest.”

Tyne nodded. “That’s OK. He sounded like an idiot, and I’m expecting my readers to see through that whole smokescreen. Anyway, at least I’m getting somewhere on the article. I’ve interviewed most of the neighbors and there are some pretty good stories there.”

“OK, on to something juicier,” Tanya said, her eyes mischievous. “How’s it going with Mr. White and Wonderful?”

Tyne nearly choked on her bite of baked beans. She peered around at the surrounding tables, but folks were busy chowing down. She didn’t want ears pricking, listening to her business.

“Oh, please say that a little louder.” Tyne threw daggers at her sister. “I don’t think the next table heard you.”

“Well, if you’re ashamed of your doings…” Tanya smiled. “Sooo, how much doing have you been doing, anyway? Can we talk baseball parlance with bases, or—no, let’s do football. Any touchdowns?”

“Yeah, do tell,” a smiling April interjected. “I want to hear about someone else’s sex life for a change. Y’all been harping on mine long enough.”

Tyne laid down her fork, her hunger taking an unexpected hiatus. The other Friday was—hell, she didn’t know what it was. A dalliance? A moment of insanity? And the long phone call they had had the night after where they had revealed so much? She thought they’d really connected that night, more so than when they had connected sexually. Which made the weeklong silence painful. She’d even left a message on his machine, but no word since, not a call or a note. Hell, not a greeting card even just to say “Hi.” She didn’t want to admit to her sisters that she was starting to feel used, stupid even. That he had left her longing for him, had touched her in a way she hadn’t experienced before. But she didn’t want to hold on to this feeling anymore. She wanted to throw away the disappointment and get on with her life.

“Yes, there was a touchdown, as you so metaphorically put it. Last Friday. But it seems it’s going to be the only score, so I’d rather not talk about it.”

Tanya’s eyes cut stone. “The mo-fo hasn’t called? Sheesh, I hate to say this…”

“Then don’t. I’m already kicking my own ass for not picking up the signals. Of course, it was going too fast, and it was just too intense.”

April shook her head. Another no vote. “Don’t ever let someone use you. I know you know this already, but you’re worth better than that. At least, that’s what I remember a couple of sisters telling me. ‘Hold out for the best’ they said, and I finally heard them. And I thank both of you. So now it’s my turn to give out some advice. Don’t walk down my road. I don’t care if he is a friend of a friend. I have a good mind to call Sherry and tell her…”

“Don’t you dare!” Tyne warned. “We’re talking about my job here, OK? And it’s not her business anyway.”

“Look, we’re not going to beat you up about this,” Tanya said. “We just don’t want you getting hurt. If he’s already acting like a dick, just leave him alone, I don’t care how cute he is.”

“Yeah, he is cute,” Tyne said underneath her breath. “Man of my dreams.”

“What was that?” Tanya asked.

“Nothing. I guess I’m meant to be alone.”

“Bullshit,” April said. Both sisters looked at their younger sibling with raised eyebrows. She wasn’t usually given to cuss words.

“Whaat?” she looked back at them. “It is bullshit. Because Tyne, you know you’re a beautiful, intelligent woman, so stop acting like you’re the wallflower no one wants. Now, question—was the sex good, at least?”

The smile bloomed before she could stop it. She had relived that night every night since. He wasn’t in her dreams anymore. He was in her skin, her blood. She remembered his smell, their smell. She remembered how their merging nearly ripped her soul, and tore her body with pleasure.

“Oh yeah, it was good, if that smile’s any indication,” Tanya said. “Well, at least you got you some. Finally an end to the drought. That’s what you got to do, put it in perspective. It was sex, nothing else.”

Tyne nodded. “Yeah, it was just sex. Nothing more,” she mimicked her sister’s words, a smile plastered on her face. But there was that ache inside, because even in the short time she’d known him, it had seemed much more than that. Damn, how had she let herself get hurt again?