Forever Young: Blessing or Curse (Always Young Trilogy) (10 page)

She
blinked and shook her head. “No, sorry.”

Did
guilt flicker in her eyes? A remote check while she’d been at work had verified
she’d spoken the truth about her own computer not being networked to the
Institute. Still, something about her tone whenever he mentioned the iPhone
didn’t ring true. One thing for sure, if she did have it, she couldn’t know its
contents or she’d never have agreed to take the pill, much less hawk it.

Unfortunately,
given the high stakes involved, the issue could not be ignored.  Even if
its battery had run down, the phone could be revived and transmit items best
not divulged.

He
snuck another glance at her. Dorrie looked more like a youngster playing
dress-up than an actual threat. He could bet his life she’d kept the iPhone to
remind her of her husband,  yet such a sad scenario could not dissuade him
from what he was about to do.

They
drew up to the hotel. He smiled disarmingly. “What say we take the rest of the
day off and cool down.”

The
sweetness of her smile yanked his fever up a notch. Regret warred with longing.
Soon his need would be assuaged, for better or worse.  

 He
headed to his hotel suite. Once there, he disrobed and pulled on his swimming trunks.
In the hallway, on the way to the elevator, he absently smiled at a group of
notebook-carrying individuals who appeared to be on their way to a conference.

On
the first floor, an unmistakable chlorine smell wafted through the air, guiding
him to the rectangular fifty foot pool, complete with diving boards and signs
prohibiting children from entering. The semi-dim lighting reflected off the
lime colored brick walls. A gentle lapping from the purification system
whispered peacefulness and serenity, emotions sorely lacking in Roman’s makeup.

 He
dove in. As coolness hit his still sweltering skin, he gasped with pleasure.
Treading the water, he prolonged the sensation of muscles and mind relaxing.
After a few laps, he felt at peace and ready to handle the situation.
Everything would work out. The iPhone would be found. The exchanges would be
made. The incident would be closed, with or without Dorrie’s consent. He dove
in again, then re-emerged.

Maybe
it was a small sound or perhaps the subtle hint of her perfume that made him
sense her presence even before he spied her standing at the water’s edge
wearing the scraps of buttercup colored material. Her full breasts swelled, her
tiny waist dipped, her legs stretched long and lean, glowing a golden brown—a body
meant to be loved. 

She
appeared unaware of his presence, as she glanced in every direction but his.
His member hardened, making him grateful for the water’s concealment. Ethics
evaporated, replaced by lust.

 
Her body arced gracefully on the diving board. With a soft splash, she
descended into the water, only to reappear seconds later with face, hair and
shoulders wet. Droplets of water highlighted a flawless complexion, without
need of artificial enhancement.

Mesmerized,
he swam to her.

“Oh,
hi, Roman, I didn’t see you.”

Her
words seemed innocuous enough, but the breathlessness of her voice and her
throat’s quickened pulse gave her away. Did his well maintained physique
disturb her? He hoped so.

The
ritual began. He splashed water into her face. She laughed in surprise, then
mischievously splashed back. Caught in the game, she lost her balance. He
reached for her waist and held on longer than necessary, watching her eyes
widen and darken. They swam alongside each other, faster and faster. She dove.
He followed closely.

Spent
and out of breath, they gazed at each other. Her eyes lingered on his
well-defined abs. She obviously liked what she saw. Taking advantage of her
distraction, he focused on her well endowed breasts almost completely visible
in the tiny bikini. Hell, he was only a man.

“Thirsty? 
Care to join me at the bar?”

A
hesitant look crossed her face. “I don’t know. I’m not much of a drinker.”

“Come
on. One little drink won’t hurt, maybe something tasty like Kahlua and cream.
You like coffee, don’t you?”

“More
than I should,” she said, flashing him a guilty look.   

He
could bet her mind wasn’t on coffee, but on morals and mourning. He’d get
around that. He held her by the elbow as they climbed out of the water, and
valiantly resisted the urge to towel her down. Instead, he thrust his own towel
around his waist to hide evidence of his arousal.

“Meet
you in half an hour,” he said, darting toward the elevator.

A
cool shower erased the smell of chlorine. After towel drying his hair, he
slipped into a teal rayon shirt, gabardine trousers and leather sandals. He
nodded with approval at his angelic appearance before reaching into his
toiletries bag for a small item.

***

Dorrie
smiled in anticipation as she carefully tied the spaghetti straps on the
shoulders of her linen maize shift. She’d chosen the happy color of yellow as a
theme for her free time, and the mood seemed to be rubbing off on her. She saw
no harm in enjoying a drink with a handsome man, even if he happened to be her
boss. She wouldn’t go any further with drinking or him.   

Maybe
in time she could bring herself to make love with someone she cared about. The
need for sex still existed, but she’d ignore it until the right time, that is,
if there’d ever be one. The thought of doing something so intimate with anyone
else than Larry made her uneasy.

She
reached onto the end table to grab her purse, but it slipped, scattering its
contents all over the floor. She reached down to scoop everything up. Served
her right for thinking about sex. She’d enjoyed a once-in-a-lifetime experience
with Larry. It should be enough. Many women were not as blessed.

For
now, she’d forget her empty sex life and live the Hollywood dream. She’d
pretend she and Roman were an item. She’d exchange small talk with him, laugh,
and have a good time. She deserved a little fun. That settled, she headed down
the hall to the bar.

He
stood up as she entered the room. His eyes seemed to caress her as she slipped
onto the bar stool next to him. He was certainly a hunk, but she would not
waiver from her plan: one drink, be friendly, but firm.

“Here
you are,” he said, with a strange flicker in his eyes as he handed her a rock
glass.

“Thank
you. This looks good.” She took a small swallow. The liquid tasted almost like
coffee, but with a bitter twist.

“Do
you like it?” 

“It’s
different. Actually, quite good.”  

Roman
looked good, too; in fact, too good. He slid his hand to her shoulder. It
tingled and came alive. She should object, but that would spoil the game.

For
some reason, the room seemed awfully warm. Something must be wrong with the air
conditioning. Perspiration beaded her lip. Trying not to appear gauche, she
surreptitiously swiped it off with the napkin, then reached for the glass to
take another swallow. The drink tasted unusual, but nice and cool. She’d stop
after this one and drink some fizzy pop to cool down.  

He
moved his stool closer and tightened his arm around her. It seemed forever
since she’d felt a man’s touch. Until now, she’d had no idea how much she’d
craved it. Suddenly she wanted more. Larry was gone and Roman was here. Her
throat went dry. She reached again for the glass, took a huge gulp, then
pressed closer.

His
palm moved onto her thigh. She cupped her hand over it and looked up into his
face. Did he share the same overwhelming urge? Its strength made her dizzy.

The
mysterious look in his angel eyes answered the question. He knew exactly what
ran through her mind, and felt it too. He wanted her. Waves of longing swept
over her. She downed the remainder of her drink.

“Let’s
get out of here,” he said in a voice thick with desire.

Swaying,
she stumbled up. The room moved and blurred. The knowing face of the bartender
flashed in and out of her consciousness, but he didn’t matter.   

“Here,
don’t forget your purse,” Roman said, picking it up from the bar and handing it
to her.

The
touch of his fingers sent waves of desire crashing through her. She hungered
for his touch, the sooner the better. Almost moaning in frustration, she
quickened her steps. Her legs felt so clunky she could barely move them up and
down, as if she were sleep-walking in a vat of glue.

Finally
they reached his room. He gathered her in his arms, carried her over the
threshold and kicked the door closed, as if they were a newly married couple.
  

He
deposited her on the bed. She lay helpless, a quivering mass of need.

“Please,”
she begged.

He
tore off his clothes, making her desire soar. His hard body covered hers. He
tore at the spaghetti straps, pulled the top of her dress down, and teased her
with his touch. Her heart sped. The room spun. Waves of desire coursed through
her. She pulled up the bottom of her dress. He reached down and ever so
carefully removed her silk panties, then even more carefully entered her.

She
climbed to the stars, and higher, so high she thought she’d die. Panting, he
followed her. She was riding to heaven with the Angel Man. The stars burst
brighter and brighter.  

He
shuddered inside of her. Warm liquid flowed in and around her, sending fresh spirals
of desire coursing through her veins. It happened again. She moaned and
pressed, clinging tight.

Again
they rode to the stars. Again, she reached the cliff then fell off it, so far
she almost died from the descent. Shuddering, she lay beneath him. He brushed
the hair from her eyes. It didn’t help. He still looked fuzzy.

“Do
you want more?”

She
nodded as desire welled up as strong as before. She’d do anything to have him
again.

“Yes,
please.”  Her quivering fingers reached for him.

He
backed away. “Then tell me about the iPhone. Remember, the one your husband
used.   What did you do with it? Where did you put it?”

How
could that matter at a time like this?  His questions droned on and on, so
fast she couldn’t think. The room spun and blurred. Lights flashed. She felt as
if she were riding a merry-go-round, only scarier. She opened her mouth, but
her tongue felt too thick to get the words out.  What was going on? 

“Think,
Dorrie. Where is it?”

“It’s
in the...”  She tried to speak, but her mouth wouldn’t move.

The
room whirled and heaved, then darkened.

 ***

Dorrie’s
head pounded. Groaning, she struggled to rise from bed, then sank back down.
Where was she? What day was it?

Squinting,
she tried to get her bearings. Sunlight peeked through the corners of the
bamboo patterned drapes of the hotel room. Strange she didn’t remember getting
here or going to bed. What else didn’t she remember?  Had she gotten drunk
last night and done something crazy? No, she couldn’t have. She knew her
limits.

She
glanced down at herself, and sighed with relief. Though her pretty maize dress
with the tiny shoulder straps looked sleep worn and wrinkled, at least it still
covered her, thank God. How embarrassing she couldn’t handle even one drink.
Maybe the young pill had something to do it. Whatever the cause, Roman must
think her a ninny. Had he helped her back to her room?  Had he laid her on
the bed? Thinking of her helplessness felt disturbing and arousing.

Bits
and pieces of an embarrassingly erotic dream flashed through her mind, with
images so vivid she wondered if she could face Roman without blushing. Getting
drunk sure had a strange effect on her.

The
alarm clock rang, setting off fresh waves of pain in her temples. She groped on
the nightstand to silence it. Somehow she had to get ready for the airport.

Vowing
never to drink another drink in her life, she slowly swung her legs over the
side of the bed. A fresh wave of dizziness hit. Maybe an aspirin would help.
Those were safe to take with the pill. She reached into her purse and felt the
smartphone, which reminded her of Larry’s iPhone. Life would have been simpler
if she’d told Roman the truth at the beginning.

Thoughts
of her deceit set her temples throbbing harder. That would teach her to play
dumb. Now she was past the point of no return. If Roman learned she’d lied more
than once, he might even take the pill from her. What would she do without it?
 

She
wasn’t much of an analyst, but she had a feeling her dream held a subliminal
message warning her to be honest. Funny, how life intruded and got jumbled up
in the subconscious. Also funny, how inhibitions disappeared in the
make-believe world and seemed so real. It wasn’t as if she’d consider having
sex with anyone anytime soon. Larry had been a good man and still lived in her
heart.

The
hotel phone rang, making her jump.

“Are
you ready?” Roman asked.