His American Fling (12 page)

Most of the days passed similarly. The second Friday after Maggie had moved in, Campbell arrived home, puttering around the townhouse until Maggie returned from work. He quickly discovered after she moved in that he didn’t like coming home to a quiet house, preferring to arrive and find her running around
the house cleaning, cooking, or sometimes just dancing in the parlor to music from her iPod. He looked forward to hearing about her day or sharing a story from the hospital. Maggie always managed to turn the most mundane event into an entertaining tale. He wished he could say the same about his conversations, which centered mostly on the “disease of the week.” Nonetheless, her eyes were always fixed on him and she leaned forward to listen as if infectious diseases were the most interesting topic in the world. Still, he had to wonder if she was simply trying to make him feel important. If it was, she was succeeding.

The key turned in the door and Campbell found himself smiling. Throwing his body on the sofa, legs up, eyes glued on the flat screen, he pretended to be interested in the television and not the fact that the most interesting thing in his life had just walked through the door. Casually looking up, he saw that she was hiding something behind her back.

“Hello!”  She said with enthusiasm.

Sometimes he didn’t know where she got all of her energy and her sunny disposition.  This was probably the most annoying thing
about Americans, they were too perky.

“Hello.” He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side, “What do you have behind your back?”

She beamed and held out a bag to him from
Marks & Spencer’s
. He took it from her, looking up and smiling.  Inside was a large white box.

“They just came in today and I thought it would look nice in the guestroom.”

He opened the box and saw a vase. It was pretty; a flute with a nice abstract design on the front, the multi-colored class matching the colors of the guest room, but it was no match for the one she had broken. The original vase was from a shop in Kings Parade. It had cost over £100 when he and Gemma bought it five years ago. It would be worth substantially more now because of the artist’s spiraling popularity. But Maggie seemed genuinely pleased and nervous, hoping he would like it.

Campbell smiled and jumped up, walked
 to the entry and pulled some fresh flowers from the bouquet on the entry table, putting them in the new vase. After it was filled with water, he took it upstairs, placing the vase in his room rather than the guest room.

Her face went from pleasure to instant worry. “Oh, Campbell, I didn’t mean for you to put it in here. It doesn’t really go. Putting it in the guest room would be fine.”

He pulled her to his chest and kissed her. “I want to see it when I wake up in the morning.” It was a foolish romantic gesture, but he could see it really touched her. Maggie reached up and pulled him down to give him a deep, deep kiss. Things started to stir. They hadn’t made love since Tuesday night and he had been anticipating taking her all day.

Backing her up to the bed, he gently pushed her down, his soft lips finding hers while his hand slipped over her cotton shirt, rubbing her covered breast. Just the idea that below his hand was her round, white flesh
, and pink, pert nipple was making him even harder. She had begun to rub the bulge in his trousers. The sensations rocking through his erection were driving him crazy.

He
had been daydreaming about fucking her all day. When he did his pants would tighten as his bulge grew. More than once he found himself unable to leave his desk because he had half a hard-on and couldn’t stand.

Campbell
wanted the cotton top off—now.  Kicking off his shoes and socks, he dropped his trousers to reveal a very willing erection pushing against the blue jersey boxers.

Maggie stripped down to her bra and panties, turning to help Campbell take his shirt off. Once he was bare-chested, his toned body on display, his purposeful fingers slipped up, fondling her breast through her bra. In turn, Maggie stroked him through his boxers, the erection growing firmer under her touch.

Campbell’s eyes closed to take in everything, to let the sensations shoot through him. He could smell her new perfume, her sweet body odor, the strawberry smell of her shampoo. Campbell loved how smooth and soft she felt when they touched.  Reaching down the back of her panties, he took the cool, smooth cheek of her ass into his hand, pulling her closer into his body. Maggie thrust her hips into his erection as she slowly stroked him, the touch of her hand and willing body more than he could take. 

As the passion overwhelmed him, Campbell snapped the latch on the lace bra and tugged her panties down in one swift
move, revealing the smooth, white skin of her naked body.

Maggie was just as excited, wet from Campbell’s fevered touches.  She loved when
he made her feel as if he had to have her at that very instant. Rolling onto his back, her eyes fixed on the mixture of deep brown and gray hair on his chest. Past his belly button was a dark trail of hair leading down to his genitals. It was incredibly sexy, making her tingle with desire. He motioned for her to ride him.

S
he guided him inside of her as he watched like a voyeur.  When Campbell slipped inside, he closed his eyes and pushed up to fill her completely. His hands latched onto the cheeks of her ass, grabbing her flesh to push her up and down while he thrust upwards. Maggie started to meet his thrusts with equal force. Her breasts danced up and down in front of him, enticing him to touch them. Pulling her down, he took her breast in her mouth and began to suck.

The rhythm remained steady, building to a crescendo that caused both of them to reach orgasm together, her vagina contracting, causing the friction of his thrusts to increase
the intensity of his orgasm. Maggie’s pleasurable moans quickly turned into a scream of fear. 

Campbell looked up and saw the form of a person in the bedroom with them. His body couldn’t stop, he continued with the last of his thrusts and ejaculation, holding Maggie firmly on him as she struggled to get off.

He finished, quickly rolling over releasing Maggie who grabbed the duvet. Campbell looked up and shook his head angrily, “What the hell are you doing here?”

Gemma stood, smirking, disgusted, “Oh, this is rich. You and a bloody American. You really have reached the depth of despair.  I never thought you would shag an American, not the way you rant about them.”  Gemma turned to Maggie. “You know, he’s just using you to try and make me jealous. He thinks that someday I’ll come whimpering back to him.”

Campbell stood up, not bothering to hide the fact that he was naked. “You can’t just barge into my house.
You don’t live here anymore!
”

“I want my pearls for the Hunter’s Ball.”  Her voice started to strain with emotion, “They were my grandmother’s pearls, Campbell,
you know what they mean to me
.”

“I don’t have them.” He said firmly.

“You’re lying, I
know
you have them.”

“Get out! Now!”

“Fine, I’ll get out.” She walked by the vase that Maggie had bought, pointing at it.  She pointed at it. Gemma started to laugh. “This is hideous!  My God Campbell, when did you become so pedestrian in your tastes?  Where did you buy it?  Boots?”  She picked it up and, whether on purpose or accident, it slipped through her fingers, crashing to the floor. “Oops.”

Seeing her obvious glee, Campbell was livid. “My God, you are a cow.”

“You’re so up yourself. You need to find yourself a real English woman who can give you a proper shag.”

The room suddenly went quiet as they silently glared at each other. Maggie sat still, unwilling to join the fray.

“Get out Gemma. Just get out.” He was calm and adamant. Maggie thought his calmness was scarier than all the ranting and tirades. His demeanor sent chills down her spine. When Gemma was gone, Campbell turned, looked at Maggie with frustration and disappeared into the bathroom. 

Maggie got a broom and dustpan and began cleaning up the shattered vase. Surprisingly, she was glad that Gemma had broken it because she wasn’t sure she could stand seeing it in the room after Gemma’s cruel description of it. Campbell came out of the bathroom and started picking up some of the larger pieces. They were both squatting down when they looked up into each other’s eyes.

“Maggie, I’m sorry.”

Maggie said softly, “I didn’t hear the door. She must still have a key. Can’t you get the key back or change the locks?” She searched his face for some sign that he wanted an end to this game of theirs.

“I’ll get the key back from her.”

Judging from the look on his face and the tone of his voice, Maggie didn’t believe him. He wasn’t ready to take that step, to cut Gemma off completely.  Maggie felt anxious, as if something more than the vase had just broken.
             

Chapter 6

Getting to Know You

Campbell and I became rather domestic those three weeks before class started.  We had a blast making love all over the house at the drop of a hat.  We cooked together, played whist, watched movies, went cycling, took long walks and slept wrapped up in each other’s arms. It was strange though. He didn’t invite anyone over for drinks, dinner or tea. We had lots of long talks and I found out a lot about the privileged upper class in England. Campbell, Fiona, and Henry had attended private schools their entire lives, ending up at Trinity College here in Cambridge for medical school. They spent their summers in Europe, America, Australia or wherever their whims sent them, but usually they all went together.

  I didn’t see Henry or Fiona or Peter anyone in those three weeks. I thought they were on holiday since the British frequently take their vacations during the month of August. I soon found out that I was mistaken.

It was a Sunday and we had just come back from grocery shopping. We were taking the groceries down to the kitchen while debating the cause of the Revolutionary War when Campbell hit the play button on the answering machine.

I recognized Fiona’s voice right away, “Cam, I tried your cell, but you didn’t pick up. It’s
Fi; I just got back from the Winthrop’s Kew Gardens Party. I can’t believe you missed it this year. You never miss it! Where were you?  Henry says that he invites you to the pub and even invited you to the annual weekend in Southwald, but you turned him down. We’re worried about you—afraid that you’re spiraling down over Gemma again.  Please ring me and let me know how you are.”

He looked over at me rather sheepishly,
and then listened to several messages from the hospital before erasing all of them. We put the groceries away in silence. I prepared bangers and mash for dinner at Campbell’s request although I find British sausages to be rather tasteless. We sat down at the dinner table and he looked over at me, bracing for what I was going to ask.

“It’s me, isn’t it? You don’t want them to know that you’re going out with an American do you?  You’ve cut yourself off just so they
don’t know that I’m staying here.”

“Mags, it’s not what you think. I did tell them that you were staying here, but I didn’t tell them we were sleeping together. I’m not ashamed of you; I’m ashamed of them. If we had gone, Henry and Fiona would have been great, they’d understand. But, my other friends would have taken the Mickey out of both of us.  They aren’t fond of Americans and you would have been the brunt of their wit all weekend long. You’d be miserable.”

I wasn’t convinced it was me he was concerned about. “Don’t you mean that you’d be miserable?”

He looked at me and then away. “Perhaps. It would be painful for me to see them make you the brunt of their humor. It’s very biting and acerbic.”

“No, I mean, you’d be miserable because you brought someone that would be the brunt of jokes—
you’d
be embarrassed.”

“Mags, you’re wonderful. But why subject yourself to their vitriolic humor?”

“Because they are your friends and I’m dating you.”  I put it out there. I wanted to see how he would respond to the idea that we were a couple. He looked uncomfortable, his eyes darting away, his hands in his pockets, and his mouth pinched tight.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, the British are not that fond of foreigners, especially our American cousins. We find your naiveté about the world annoying, especially since you’re a superpower. We’re overrun by Americans in the summer and they’re loud, pushy, and think that, because they’re American, we should be falling all over ourselves to take care of them.  It’s your attitude that you are entitled that makes us balmy.”

“Campbell, you know so little about Americans. What we expect is service that we’re paying for and we won’t take less. I’ve discovered here that the customer is always wrong and you’re lucky if you can get anyone to help you that don’t look like they’re passing gas. And as for naiveté, we may not seem to know that much about world politics, but from what I hear out of your mouth and other Brits, you know very little about Americans. Everything you know is out of a Scorsese movie.”

He paused and shrugged. “If we’re still dating the next time I get invited to a weekend away, I promise to take you.”

I sat back, “If? You don’t sound too optimistic.”

He sat down too and I could tell from his expression that he was about to tell me something important. “When it comes to relationships, I don’t take anything for granted and I certainly never count my chickens.”

The air between us was so thick; I decided to call it a stalemate.

“Fair enough.”

Later he went into the library and made a phone call. I suspected he was talking to Fiona. I wanted to listen to the call, but I had more class than that—barely.

While he was on the phone, I went up and took a shower and when I came out he was lying on the bed reading. He looked up at me and put his arm out, “Come here.” I climbed up on the bed, snuggling in his arm with my head on his chest. He kissed the top of my head and continued to read as I fell asleep.

When I was with Campbell we seemed to have a great time. We were always laughing and teasing each other. Our sex was great and we didn’t fight, at least not much. When we did, we quickly made up and were soon back to joking with each other.  But, I kept feeling like I was the summer fling, here to entertain him for the summer and then, when school started, he’d make excuses not to see me. He never said anything that would make me think that; it was just the odd things that made me feel that way. 

Campbell didn’t invite his friends over and we didn’t go out with them. He didn’t talk about his family and he didn’t tell his family about me. There was never any discussion about the future as if I was going to be in it. He didn’t share his feelings and, more importantly, he never changed the locks or retrieved the key from Gemma.