Heights of Desire (6 page)

“Like you won’t give up the money, or maybe it’s the social bullshit you think you need?”

“Jaylee, you’re wrong. Money has nothing to do with any of the decisions I make. I’m trying – I just don’t want to hurt anyone I love,” I say.

“You’re hurting me.”

“Am I?” The question is both for him and for me. The heavier question lingering between us is the mention of love, but now is neither the time nor the place.

Jaylee penetrates me with his gaze. His golden eyes flicker with light and desire as he examines my face carefully. One thing is certain, I do want this man so badly and I can’t live without him wanting me.

“I’m afraid. I’m afraid of losing the stability – everything I know. But more than anything it’s Pearl and Ada. I’d die without them.”

Jaylee grabs me around the waist and pulls me to his chest. He smoothes my hair back and kisses my temple.

“I’m not gonna let that happen, baby.”

He means well, but he’s so clueless. He has absolutely no power to prevent that from happening. Robert is the one with the power. “I have to go,” I say.

“No. It’s an all day thing. Inviting you over. You have to stay. I didn’t mean you could just eat and run.”

He makes me smile even through my fog of despair.

“I can’t stay, Jaylee, really. I loved meeting your family. They’re beautiful, just like you. I don’t think I can do this anymore. It feels wrong. I’m not right for you, it’s so obvious.”

“You want me to go upstairs and tell my grandma you just dumped me?”

“Maybe you should try telling them the truth and then they’ll be glad to see me out of your life.”

“They know. Told ‘em everything. I’m not gonna lie about us. You’ too important to me, Kate. We are.”

Jaylee’s face is serious. A furrow appears on his brow between his eyes. He’ll only get better looking as he ages. I’m captivated by his determination, his earnestness.

“How’d they take it?”

“Mami said I was un pariguayo idiota like my pops. Grandma said you’ like a representation of the things I want in my life, niña buena, inteligente, madura – all that.”

“And what do you think? Why do you want to be with me?”

“I’m no good with words.” He folds his arms across his chest, thumb on the outside, the rest of his fingers absconded in his armpit. This is his defensive pose.

“Try me.” I say. I’ve underestimated my lover.

Jaylee leans back against the stairwell wall, pensive. He’s trying to gauge the trust, the boundaries in our exchange, the limits of our openness. I know because I am too.

“A lot of the time I feel like shit. It ain’t for the reasons you’d think - meaning it ain’t my pops or money or anything I can explain. It’s been hard for me – in my life, to think about what’s gonna happen next. Most of the time I don’t fuckin’ care – let it happen.”

I’m captivated again, by his show of emotion, his ability to be vulnerable in front of me. I realize it takes a huge amount of trust for him to open up to me like this. I reach out automatically and clasp his hand.

“When I saw you, I’m talkin’ about the very first time, on the playground, now. It was like I seen something different for myself. Like I could see the future and want it too because all of the sudden there was a future for me. I saw it
in you
.”

Jaylee looks sheepish and knocks his head back against the wall and cracks his knuckles into his palm. He groans out loud and shakes his head.

“Fuck,” he says.

“Too much?” I ask. I’m so moved by his speech that I grab him and kiss him. I almost want to rescind my decline of sex in strange places.
I’ll fuck you in the basement, Jaylee. I’ll let you take me anywhere.
But I can’t because his confession has given me too much insight to how he really feels about me. It wouldn’t just be a basement fuck to Jaylee. This is real to him and he sees his future when he looks at me. I desperately want to see that future too. I realize, and maybe too late, that this is the glaring difference between Jaylee and me. He sees a future for us – truly sees it – and I can’t even begin to imagine it no matter how badly I want to.

Chapter 8

R
obert is out of town for work, in Las Vegas of all places, when I decide, in a carefree and caffeine-enhanced moment that it would be a good idea to ask Jaylee to come over. It’s been a few weeks since he invited me to meet his family. I text him letting him know that the girls are asleep and Robert is out of town for the rest of the week. He responds immediately saying that he’ll be here in an hour. Where is he that it will take him so long to get here? He lives barely ten blocks from my house. It’s eight o’clock at night; he could be anywhere doing anything. I have no idea how he spends his time. I guess it gives me time to prepare myself for seeing him again. I’ve already showered and shaved and put on my second favorite pair of lace bra and underwear – the first ones became a casualty of Jaylee’s swift removal skills. I consider trying to make us a fancy cocktail or an hors d’oeuvre of some sort. I flip through some cookbooks in the kitchen and decide against it because I don’t know what he likes to eat. I guess in a lot of ways Jaylee is still a stranger to me.

I pour myself some pinot noir exactly level with the top of the wine glass. I sip off the first inch leaning down over the counter without picking up the glass. Robert calls and I go over my day with him. I don’t have to lie because he doesn’t ask me what I’m doing tonight. He never really asks what I’m doing. Maybe he thinks I don’t ever do anything. Robert might not be alone in his hotel room tonight, either. It’s not that I suspect he’s cheating on me, it’s just that I have no real way of knowing.

After the first, very full glass I pour myself another and consider waiting in my underwear and heels to greet Jaylee when he walks through the front door. It seems more like something Robert would enjoy and I remind myself that, considering the way he treated me the first time, what I really should wear to greet Jaylee is full body armor. It’s sounds too Mrs. Robinson-y anyway. It’s better to act casual – have no expectations.

After my third full glass of wine I take a pint of ice cream out of the fridge and a serving spoon. Jaylee is late. Forty-five minutes late. Jaylee, the man who likes to arrive an hour early. I plop onto the couch, put my feet on the coffee table and aimlessly flip through the channels. I’m intentionally rebelling against elegance tonight. I’m not an overly educated rich lawyer’s wife, nor am I an older woman managing a midlife crisis by taking on a younger Latin lover. I’m a lush, ice cream-bloated, reality television watcher and for the first time in my life, I’ve been stood up. I pull my jeans off and fall asleep in my underwear and t-shirt with my face wedged into the crack of the couch. I don’t even bother to brush my teeth.

I open my eyes to birds chirping and the garish, gray-yellow of pre-dawn that confirms my lingering fears from last night. I’ve been dumped before anything had a chance to blossom fully. This might also be a first for me, if memory serves me right, I’ve always been the heartbreaker and never the dumpee. My mouth tastes terrible and my brain and body are sluggish from the wine. I clean up the mess so that neither Carmen nor my girls will have to bear witness to the remains of my pity party.

I feel especially old as I pad around the kitchen in my underwear. My brain is assaulting me with images of tight, young teenage girls that have usurped my place as Jaylee’s lover. They look fantastic in skin-tight clothing, not like they’re trying way too hard. They giggle wrinklelessly when he shows them my text asking him to come over. They suck him off and worship whatever he says even if it’s insulting, stupid, or meaningless. I tie a tea towel around my head as a kerchief and jerk the waffle iron out of the very back of the lowest kitchen cabinet that we never use. It’s covered in dust. I’m a domestic failure. I can add adulterous failure and academic failure to the list too. I slam appliances and cabinet doors indulging in the anger of my jealous fantasies. I ought to be doing something productive since I’m up so early, so I say making waffles for the girls counts. I grab my phone to see the time and realize that I’ve got two new texts and a missed call. The call is blocked and there is no new voicemail. Both of the texts are from a number I don’t know and they are identical, one sent just after midnight and another around three AM.

Kate, It’s Flash. Jaylee got picked up. He’ll call you when he’s out.

I’m either still drunk or have possibly lost my mind because reading it makes me both laugh and cry at the same time.

After the jubilation of not being stood up or dumped wears off, I’m forced to sit with the reality that Jaylee is in jail. I probably shouldn’t be shocked but I am. This wasn’t even something I’d considered in my list of scenarios last night. I’m clueless to what his life is like when he’s not with me and this development now confirms that I’ve been turning a blind eye. I don’t know Jaylee at all outside of our insular relationship.

He finally calls from his cell phone around 5 PM. Flash must have gone to pick him up because he tells me that he’s just leaving the courthouse. He apologizes for missing our date last night and says he wants to make it up to me. I agree to have him come over after the girls have gone to bed. My stomach can’t decide between excitement and nausea. I can now add delinquent to the list of reasons as to why I should stay away from him.

Jaylee bounds up my front steps and pounds on the front door to announce his arrival. I’ve of course already been sitting on the couch looking out the front window for the past twenty minutes. I’ve sweated through one shirt and changed into another. The jail thing adds a whole other layer of wrongness to this affair. I’m a good girl. I went to Spence. I went to Columbia. I waited until I was 19 to lose my virginity. I pull the door open and censure my impulse to throw myself into his arms and wrap my body around his.

“We have a bell, you know?”

“Yeah? No?” He says, shaking his head both yes and no.

His face blossoms into his gorgeous smile. That thing should be monitored, it’s both aphrodisiac and amphetamine, not to mention highly communicable.

He looks the same but there is a touch of sadness about him. His body language is sheepish, slightly apologetic. I can’t tell if it’s because he got picked up or because he feels bad for missing our date. He pulls me into his arms and I smell his neck and hair to see if I can detect the scent of jail on him.

“Are you okay? I ask.

Jaylee’s told me nothing of the arrest over the phone. His voice sounded so casual as if spending the night in jail were as inconsequential as a doctor’s appointment or an annoying familial obligation.

“I’m fine, baby. You? I felt so bad that I couldn’t talk to you. You thought I stood you up?”

“Don’t they give you a phone call in jail or is that only in the movies?” I feel the need to hide just how badly last night hurt. Not just getting stood up, but feeling like he was rejecting me.

He smiles his heartbreaking smile and laughs at my unfamiliarity with what he’s just been through.

“They do, but I had to call my boys so they could get me out of there.”

“Are you a drug dealer?” I blurt it out compulsively. I didn’t plan on asking him, but I guess now is as good a time as any. I absolutely cannot involve myself with a drug dealer. I’ve got to protect my family. Maybe this is what will finally make it easier to pull myself away from him.

“I wouldn’t say that,” he says. He’s still smiling, gently running his fingers through my hair.

“But you do sell drugs?”

“I’ve got certain obligations cause a’ my Pops. I’m not out on the corner pushing dime bags, though.”

He doesn’t elaborate, doesn’t offer me another explanation for what landed him in jail. In fact, he’s already dropped it. The answer is sitting between us unveiled and simply waiting for my acceptance. Jaylee doesn’t even seem to consider that I might reject him over this.

I shouldn’t have a drug dealer in my house or anywhere near my children. It’s not just Jaylee I’m worried about but the creeps he must have to associate with in order to be in the drug business. They don’t care about me or my kids like Jaylee does. What if they were to think I was getting in the way of business? Would they come after my family? Maybe Jaylee is right – the less I know about any of this the better.
Shut up head. You can shut up now.
I want to listen to the desire charging through my body and not the voice of reason. I want to be here in this moment with him.

I tilt my head back silently asking him to kiss me. He does and it immediately transports me to the land of the breathless and pleading. He communicates his remorse through his kiss. It’s an apology that is gentle and coaxing. My reservations pool at my feet and the now familiar fire ignites both in my chest and loins. Thinking he’d left me last night was unbearable. I don’t feel like I could survive the loss of his body. I want to give myself to him as completely as possible. I want to let him know that I belong to him.

Jaylee presses his groin against mine and the tenderness disappears and is quickly replaced by his urgent aggression. His fingers grip my arm and my ass possessively and his kiss becomes demanding. I’ll wear bruises tomorrow.
Farewell sweet kisses. We’ll see if he knocks me out in round two
.

I’m still not used to being intimate like this. I think it scares me more than it turns me on. I pull back from him trying to connect with his eyes; trying to find the man who’s lighthearted and caring. I know he’s in there. His grip on me tightens and his mouth probes deeper. I can do nothing at this point but give in to him, relaxing my body against his. All I’ve done is lust after him for the last twenty-four hours. I can’t throw in the towel because I’m scared of a little rough-housing. Can I?

Jaylee scoops me up like a child and carries me up the stairs. His lack of intimacy is his downfall; it will bring us to ruin before the age or cultural differences do. I want to experience Jaylee as tender and loving, and as soon as he’s aroused it disappears. He’s a man on a mission. He just wants to fuck and doesn’t even see a need to pretend he’s enamored. I’m bleeding for the romance. I want it just as much as the sex. Maybe it’s a defense mechanism. Maybe the fact that I’m a married woman emasculates him and he’s just asserting his power. Maybe it’s just how he likes it.

Jaylee tosses me onto my bed and quickly pulls his white tank top up over his head. His body is beautiful, perfectly cut. His chest rises and falls with his breath and finally his golden eyes connect with mine.

“You’re beautiful,” he says quietly.

“Not as beautiful as you.” I smile. “How do you want me?”

“All ways. Always,” he replies in a whisper.

For a moment we are connected and I dissolve under his penetrating gaze. Then as quickly as it came, it disappears and his sexual offensive returns. He unbuttons and unzips my jeans and pulls them off along with my underwear, scraping my thighs roughly as he goes.
So much for fancy panties.
He pushes my t-shirt up and pulls my bra down so that both stay on, but my breasts are exposed. I have to fight the urge to cover myself. This is defilement and not lovemaking. The lights are on and I feel vulnerable under his heated stare. His body is perfectly formed, as though executed with mastery in mind and I’m afraid mine pales in comparison. I’m fit, but not fit like this. I focus on his erection straining against his jeans and try to revel in my own ability to turn him on. He straddles me and I sit up to undo his belt. I want him in my mouth. He grabs my hands away and playfully pushes me back down.

“I owe you one,” he says smiling.

He owes me one? God, is he that much of a child? Can’t we both derive pleasure at the same time?
Jaylee, I just want to make love to you!
I want to scream it but I wait for him to make the next move. Is it possible that I’m the inexperienced one and maybe his pleasure lies in pleasing his lover and restraining himself? I doubt it, but I refuse to accept that this man is an emotional coward. I’m the coward for never being able to say what I’m thinking.

I’m confused and desperate to make this more meaningful than the last time. I sit up again to kiss him and he shoves me back down by the shoulders, this time much harder. I lay back and cover my eyes with my forearm and submit to his stupid game.
Okay, Jaylee. I get it. Hands off.
You’re a beast and I’m a helpless maiden. I’ve been beside myself with desire to touch him and now I’m not allowed.

He leans down over me and lightly kisses my neck, then travels his mouth softly over my collarbone. He cups my breasts and teases the nipple with his tongue. They scream in response. He bites them gently, sending shock waves of pleasure and pain shooting through my entire body. I reach out instinctually to pull him to me and he pins my arms back against the bed. I whimper in response. Jaylee moves up to my face and feather bites my earlobe.

“Calmate, negra,” he whispers, as a grin overtakes his face.

I try to hold him close to my face but he slips out of my grasp and places himself between my legs. I’m slick with desire and the fear and excitement is making me feel almost hysterical. I’d be happy for him to fuck me fast and hard now like he did against his mother’s dresser. Screw the intimacy, maybe I don’t need it either.

Jaylee obviously has something else in mind. He pushes my thighs back so that I’m even more exposed than before and inserts two fingers inside me. He then lowers his irresistible mouth to me. He thrusts his fingers as his mouth melts into my sex. As he works them inside me I begin to feel an urgency that is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. It registers as both physical and emotional to me and it’s completely unfamiliar. He rushes me to the brink so quickly that it’s almost traumatizing and just when I peak he slips a finger inside my ass and I scream. It’s a scream of pleasure and at the same time frustration and confusion. My body is rocked by spasms so violent that I curl up into the fetal position. I can’t stop the powerful orgasm as it breaks over and over again throughout my entire body. Jaylee is smiling down at me and I flip over onto my stomach to avoid his smugly pleased expression. He slaps my ass in return. The orgasmic waves continue to expand throughout me, softer and sweeter than before. I’m clenching at nothing and feel empty and alone.