Gazelle (17 page)

“
Tha
t’
s true, I can see that
,
” he nods.  Another awkward silence falls over them, he flushes and fights off the drunken, scattering of his senses.

“
I really liked your speech, by the way
,
” she says.
“
Thank you
.
”

“
It was very poignant.  Why did you get involved with the foundation
?
”
              Julian sighs and finishes his drink, weighing the question and answer, struggling to decide what script he could recite without sounding stupid or pretentious in his condition.
 “
I uh-I saw a documentary about the Lost Boys a long time ago, before I go
t…
became successful.  I wanted to do something then, but I was pretty broke.  Living in a tiny apartment with Scott, working random modeling jobs and waiting tables.  Anyways, I saw it and I promised myself that if I could ever do it, I would.  And I did
.
”

              He shrugs modestly.  Her head tilts and she studies him with a strange smile the entire time, never changing her expression.  He wonders briefly if she trained herself to make such an expression or it came naturally, dismissing the thought before it can cause any real damage.

“
Tha
t’
s very sweet
,
” she says.
 “
I
t’
s true, then.  You are tough and sensitive
.
”
              He laughs and shakes his head.
 “
Why does everyone think
I’
m either? 
I’
m just another dude
.
”

“
Maybe.  I suppose w
e’
ll see.  Did Mike talk to you about the proposal
?
”
              He swallows a chunk of ice and blinks vapidly while he tries to remember what proposal she refers to. 

“
The professional relationshi
p…
?  He has
n’
t?  He said he ha
d
…” she frowns.

“
Oh!  The beard
!
”
“
The what
?
”
              Again, he feels his composure slip and body tense.  He smiles and closes his eyes for a second as he collects himself.
 “I’
m sorry.  Yes, he did.  Right before I came here
.
”

“
Oh, good.  I wanted it to, you know, be casual.  The discussion.  I
t’
s really-kind of awkward, right
?
”

“
Totally
.
”
“
I mean,lots of people do it so it should
n’
t be.  And I was honestly really shocked when Mike suggested you
.
”
“I’
m not gay
,
” Julian says suddenly, much too bluntly.
 “
Not tha
t…
ther
e’
s nothing wrong with being ga
y…I’
m just-tha
t’
s not wh
y
…”

              She laughs and places a light hand on his arm, sending a shrill of chills up his spine.
 “
No, I did
n’
t think you were.  But I also did
n’
t think you were the type to have any sort of trouble finding beautiful women to hang out with
.
”

“
O
h…
yeah, tha
t’
s not really a priority right now.  My focus is on what I need to do an
d…
i
t’
s a pivotal time
.
”
“
Me, too!  I totally know what you mean
.
”
“
I mean, I go out and stuff. 
I’
m not a hermit, despite what Mike say
s…
And
I’
m definitely not a saint
.
”
              She smiles seductively.
 “
I would hope not
.
”
              He smiles back and neither speaks for a moment, studying one another.  The room echoes with contemporary jazz, meaningless chatter and robust laughter, the clinking of fine dining ware as it passes from one person to the next.  He studies her, smelling her expensive perfume, noting her flawless, tan skin, her perfect eyebrows arched above two jewels that shift and shimmer beneath the milky lighting. 

“I’
m a little drunk
,
” he whispers, leaning in towards her seductively.
 “
And I have no place to go or be.  But I do
n’
t really want to
here
anymore.  And neither do you
.
” 

              They stepped out of the cab beneath the upturned collars of thick, black, woolly coats, clinging to one another against the wind and snow.  Their faces were turned into one another as they rushed towards the doors of the Waldorf.  It was hard to make out either of their features, so the photographer called his name.  Julian turned, exposing both of them just beneath the lights, laughing and confused, and the infamous first picture was taken.

              They stumble through her doors, kissing one another, still laughing.  He glances around the sand colored room and spots their destination. He grabs her quickly, lifting her by her ass, navigating her towards the bed with surprising deftness, disconnecting from his lines, from the scene. Her hands yank at his tie, loosening it; she slips his immaculately tailored shirt over his head, exposing his chiseled torso. She steps back to admire him, for just a moment letting go of his shoulders, and he loses his balance tumbling onto the bed. Again the
y’
re giggling, but only for a moment, then he looks dangerously up at her. He grabs her by her hips and draws her toward him, sliding his hands under her dress, caressing her thighs, hips, her narrow waist, pushing her satin dress up along the way. She unzips her dress and takes a step back, letting it fall to the plush carpet. She is left standing in onyx La Perla before him as if she stepped out of a magazine, and for a moment, he struggles against his instinct, confusing realities. She giggles and crawls onto the bed like a panther, her spine jutting against her skin in a succession of ripples that end in two tiny dimples above her perfect ass.  She reaches over the nightstand and pulls a condom, throwing it back at him. He pulls off his belt and finishes unbuttoning his pants, staring down at the young, beautiful starlet with a focused intensity.  Julian grabs her by the waist, his pants undone and hanging off his hips, his shirt unbuttoned, exposing his heaving chest.  He leans against her, rubbing himself between her round ass as he kisses her spine, running his tongue down to the small of her back and into the dimples as his hands slowly remove the thong.

              He remembers very little of it.  He remembers feeling her legs squeezing him, almost fighting him.  He remembers the tightness, the heat.  He can see himself shoving into her again and again, her hair falling loose and swinging back and forth as she screamed, her breasts, her nipple
s…
he remembers thinking they were much lighter and smaller than he imagined as he squeezed them in his hands, clutching her into him.  Her free hand came up into his, over his, squeezing with him.
 
‘
…
ohgod
,
’ she whispered breathlessly as she contracted around him, against him, challenging him.  But tha
t’
s not what did it.  It was her nipples, her tiny nipples, locked in between his fingers.  He realized what they were, not a part of him, not his, not under his control.  He realized what he was doing and he could
n’
t stop himself.

              He moans and rolls over, his dress shirt draped across his eyes.  The sun filters through the beige curtains and pours over his naked body tangled in the white sheets.  Nausea and a stinging headache overwhelm him as he slowly removes the shirt and blinks into consciousness.  His mouth has never felt so dry, his tongue thick and heavy.  He hears her voice low, soft, very far away.  She laughs and murmurs.  He strains to hear her words but the traffic beneath them and the low hum of the heater bleach out the conversation.  She falls quiet, water runs and then stops.  He wonders if he should try and rise before she comes out of the bathroom but another wave engulfs him. 

“
Shi
t
…” he whispers, wincing once more.  His hand moves blindly to the nightstand in the hopes of finding something to drink.

“
Here
,
” she says, placing the cup in his hands. 

              He opens his eyes and squints up at her.  She is radiant, freshly bathed and fully made up.  Her eyes are bright and clear, her cheeks flushed, as if she had slept peacefully the entire night.  She wears a white tank top and a pair of tiny blue shorts. Her skin is preened and clear, shimmering with a light, raspberry scented lotion.  Her freshly washed hair is braided and hangs to her left in a soft mass.  He feels suddenly very unattractive as he takes the cup and gulps it down.

“
Slowly
,
” she laughs, taking it away before he has finished.
 “
Yo
u’
ll choke and puke everywhere
.
”
“
God, I must look like shit
,
” he mumbles, wiping furiously at his mouth.

“
Yo
u’
d be surprised.  I think i
t’
d take a lot more than a night of heavy drinking.  Do you want more water
?
”
“
Yes, definitely, yes
.
”

              She bounces away as he lugs his body up to a sitting position.  He stares down at his massive thighs in disgust, hiding his flaccid penis with a swift tug of the sheets before she returns.

“
What time is it
?
”
“
Almost ten.  Here.  Drink it slower this time
,
” she smiles.

              He nods and drinks.  She curls up beside him, kissing his neck and running her hands over his chest.  He smiles and pulls away, holding her hand delicately but firmly.

“I’
m gross right now.  I have morning breath
,
” he says, remembering a rant Alice had about people kissing in the morning in movies.
 ‘
I
t’
s totally unrealistic! I mean,
c’
mon!  Nobody makes out with morning breath in real life
!
’

              She smirks and bounces away again, returning with a spray.
 “
Open
.
”

“
What is it
?
”
“
Just open
.
”

              He opens his mouth and she sprays the spearmint freshener on his tongue.
 “
See?  All better. No
w
…”

              She moves in, kissing his mouth fully as her body swings around him and straddles him.  He kisses her back, somewhat more reserved, much slower and less passionately, his tongue moving around hers in light, tender strokes.  She wraps her arms around his neck and runs her hands up through his tangled, sandy mop, pulling and rocking against him, feeling him harden beneath her.  His mouth moves to her throat, his hands over her behind, through her shorts until he cups her cheeks, pressing her into him.  He moans, fighting the hang over.

“
See?  All better
,
” she whispers as she slides her hands beneath the sheet between them and begins stroking him.
 “
Do you have condoms
?
”

“
N
o
…” he whispers.
 “
I was
n’
t planning on this sort of thing
.
”

“
Ohhhh, Julian
,
” she moans, squeezing him.
 “
You should always plan on this sort of thing
.
”

“
My date was Scott, remember?  I definitely should not always plan on this sort of thing
,
” he smiles.