Idol Urges (2 page)

She caught herself scanning for Jeremy’s car.

That’s right, I take the bus now.
Lifting her bag over her shoulder, she shuffled toward the side street.

“Wendy! Wendy, over here.” Franco, jogged over to her, waving his hand. His olive skin and lean arms reflected the sunset. His aquiline nose fit his Mediterranean features, and she got caught in his sea-green eyes.

Her chest tightened and her heart raced.
Damn, I hate how he affects me.

Everybody at the resort loved Franco. He always had a kind word, time for a joke and helped out others when the kitchen got too busy. Yet, she never said yes to any of times he had asked her out. She wouldn’t lose herself and her goals for a man. And it would be too easy to lose herself in Franco.

“Do you need a ride?” The corner of his full mouth turned up in a rakish smirk.

“No, I’m fine. I’ll grab the bus.”

“The bus? Where’s your boyfriend?”

“Oh, we broke up.”
Crap, I shouldn’t have said that.
Now she had no excuse for turning him down.

A grin spread wide across his mouth. He took a step toward her, masculinity oozing from him. His eyelids lowered, he gazed at her with a wicked confidence. “Does that mean you’re free to get together again sometime?”

Yes
. The word sat on the edge of her lips. Franco, the dishwasher, was everything Jeremy, the dentist, was not. Carefree, fun-loving, and a risk taker. With Jeremy it was easy for her to control her urges. He was safe, stable, predictable. But Franco got her thinking dangerous thoughts—letting go, giving in, having sex nonstop and never cracking a textbook again.

“I need to go,” she said quickly before he could say anything.

Franco called after her as she dashed away. Franco was hot. No doubt about it. But he was a nice a guy who wanted a girlfriend to take to family gatherings and bowling. Someone with free time to do all that. Someone who could control her desires and wouldn’t leave him holding his heart in his hands.

Wendy walked a block before she slowed her pace and approached the bus stop. An old woman sat unmoving under the shade of a palm tree. If it weren’t for the sparkle in her eyes and a serene smile, she might have looked like a statue. A flat board supported on cinderblocks lay before her. Palm leaves covered the board and on top were displayed fresh-roasted macadamia nuts.

Wendy didn’t have time to pack a dinner for herself, and the bus would take forever to get to campus. If she were lucky, she’d get there in time for class, but there’d be no time to get food. She didn’t like macadamia nuts, but followed a compulsion to buy some.

“I’ll take a small bag, please.” Wendy reached into her purse for her wallet.

“Of course you will.” The old woman smiled, revealing yellow irregular teeth. Her brown skin was creased with deep wrinkles. Scraggly gray hair stuck out from beneath a fuchsia scarf wrapped around her head. She filled a brown paper bag with the nuts and studied Wendy with shimmery black eyes.

“Your mind is busy,” the old woman said matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, busy.” Wendy held out her money and scanned the area. There were a few others waiting for the bus, but no one seemed to pay attention to this woman.

“Too busy. Clear your mind.”

“Okay.” Wendy’s voice was a hoarse whisper. She was tempted to put her money back into her bag and wait for the bus. She turned her head to look down the road, but no bus was in sight.

“Let go of your thoughts.” The woman had folded over the top of a paper bag and presented it to Wendy.

“Thanks.” She dropped the money into the woman’s gnarled hand and hurried off to stand with the others.

Wendy gingerly reached into the bag and picked out a single nut and popped it in her mouth. Its salty, creamy taste rolled around her tongue. When she reached in for more, her fingers latched around an odd-shaped object. She pulled out a small tiki idol.

“Yuck!” She had seen millions like this one in the tourist trap souvenir shops, but this one was worn with age. She looked around for a trash can that usually stood by the bus stop, but it wasn’t there. She took a heavy stride back toward the old woman, but nearly stumbled in surprise.

The woman was gone. She’d vanished. All that remained were some palm leaves and a few scattered nuts.
She moves fast for an old woman
.

With another glare at the idol, Wendy dropped it into her purse. As she returned to the bus stop, Wendy’s mind flashed with images of sweaty bodies, the first time she had an orgasm, and the one taboo movie she had snuck into. She shook her head, but the images remained. All her blood rushed from her head to between her legs, but her cheeks still burned.

She bolted back to the employee parking lot. “Franco!”

He was still there, propped against his car, his lean arms and chest covered by a tight black t-shirt. He talked with another kitchen worker, but she only saw his tall body, and all she thought of was what she wanted to do to it.

She stood breathless before him. The urges she had tamped down came bubbling up as she fought against the need to rip open the fly of his jeans.

“Hello, Wendy.” He smiled broadly.

“Franco, can you drive me to school?” She eyed the black El Camino. No back seat, but she’d figure something out.

“Of course. Sam, I’ll catch you later.” He held the door open for Wendy.

“Dude, I need a ride, too,” Sam protested.

“Not as badly as I do.” Wendy hurried into the car, slamming the passenger door.

Chapter Two

Franco slid into the driver’s seat, revved the engine and pulled out of the parking lot.

“I’m glad you changed your mind. I’ve wanted to tell you about the restaurant I’m going to open.” He threw his arm over the seat, his hand brushing her shoulder.

“Uh-huh.” Wendy turned the air vents toward her. She was burning up. She saw Franco almost every day, and usually she could keep her hands to herself. But today her control must have slipped. She licked her lips as she eyed the smooth nape of his neck. Her eyes grew wide when she spied his lap and the bulge outlined by his tight jeans.

“Yeah, I’m not going to be a dishwasher forever. My cousin and I, we have plans to open an Italian or Greek restaurant.”

Wendy almost didn’t hear what he said. The blood throbbing through her veins rushed in her ears.

“Didn’t you take culinary classes?”

“You remember?” Franco swiveled his head away from the road for an instant.

“Sure I remember. I remember telling you that a restaurant is a risky venture. You could lose everything.”

He chuckled. “It’s a risk worth taking. Besides, we wrote our business plan and got a loan from the bank. So we’re not stupid. Mostly, we’ll need help from our family in the beginning. But we figure in about six months—”

“Do you know the short cut through Liliuokalani Gardens?” she asked. She had to relieve the pressure building in her core.

“That park is about a mile in the opposite direction.” Franco turned to face her, he squinted in confusion.

“Just go there. Please?”

“Whatever my lady wants.” He smiled.

A few moments later, they pulled into the drive at the ornamental Japanese gardens. Small bridges crossed the ponds and little stone pagodas dotted the fields.

“Pull in over there.” Wendy pointed to the end of the parking lot where dense trees lined one side.

“Don’t you have class soon? You’re always telling me you don’t have any free time after work because of school.”

“I’ll make some time now,” Wendy said, already unbuttoning her blouse. She pulled it off and unhooked her bra.

She started on her jeans. Franco sat frozen, his eyes wide in astonishment.

“Well?” Wendy said. “I think we can dash over to those trees.” She scrambled out, making sure he got a good glimpse of her pink panties as she went.

In a frenzy, he stripped off his shirt and followed her out of the car. They fell down under the swaying leaves of a tree. She unbuttoned his pants and swiped them off.

“I’ve waited a long time for this.” Franco ran a finger down her neck, and placed a gentle kiss on the end of her pert nose.

“Shhh.” Wendy placed her finger to his lips. “Let’s not talk.” His words would touch her soul and she only wanted him to touch her body.

Her eyes devoured his lanky frame as she ran her hand across his smooth caramel skin. She knelt beside him. The heat from her hands traced the edge of his chest, and her tongue followed. He tasted clean and smelled like soap. He gasped when her mouth reached the hair at the base of his cock.

“Oh, babe,” he sighed.

“Yeah,” she said, glancing over her shoulder to see him strain against his urges. In one swallow, she engulfed his length with her mouth, sucking hard as she moved her head up, pulling at him.

A long groan escaped his throat as she repeated the motion. To have him in her mouth, to control the pleasure they shared, was almost as satisfying as what his hand did. He pushed aside her silk panties and found her clit. Slowly, he stroked her, his hand slick with her juices.

She released him and lay back in the shade of the tree. The cool moist grass did nothing to quench the heat streaming through her. She spread her legs wide in invitation. He quickly yanked off her damp panties and buried his face in her pussy.

Throwing her head back, she let loose a cry. Finally, the tensions that had grown inside her since their last time together began to untwist. His tongue thrust inside her, along with a finger, and she bucked her hips to meet them. Licks of fire ran up to her core with every swipe of his tongue.

“Get. A. Condom!” she demanded.

Franco sat back, his eyes smoldering. He reached for his discarded pants. When he retrieved the condom, Wendy snatched it from his hands and shoved him onto his back. She smoothed the condom over his cock and massaged his balls before she climbed on top, letting her hair brush over his stomach

She eased herself onto his thick erection. Her heart almost fought against her actions but, with a shudder, she sat herself down and completely sheathed him.

His eyes fluttered closed and he swallowed hard as she rocked against him. Her hands splayed on his chest, roaming over his polished skin.

Her body needed this. The endorphins in her brain freed her from the stress and confusion that had choked her.

He held her hips and guided her as she raised herself and plunged down again, taking him in. Over and over, she rose and fell, slowly but with force. She grabbed one of his hands and placed his finger against her clit.

His other hand raked through her brown wavy hair, which freely flowed down her back. The heady floral scent of the garden rolled across her.

He massaged her as her pace quickened. Her legs quaked and almost gave out, but her needs drove her on. As her orgasm built, her worries, her clouded thoughts, melted away. Her climax was hard and fast and the waves of it enfolded her body.

A moment later, Franco trembled under her as he came.

She climbed off him and searched for her panties. The ache between her legs had subsided, but it was replaced with an ache in her chest. She had to figure out something to say to Franco.
Please don’t let him ask me out for dinner
.

They were silent as they dressed and climbed back into the car. Wendy only smiled in a friendly way as she nodded for him to start the car.

“You know, Wendy, I admire you.”

“Thanks,” she kept her eyes trained out the window and gripped the arm rest, bracing herself for what he might say.

“I like you. You know how to have fun. But you’re also a hard worker, a dedicated student. I know you’ll make a great lawyer one day.” He rubbed her knee with his free hand as he drove.

Wendy tried not to listen. The sky was brighter, the air crisper, and the cobwebs in her mind were blown away. She was prepared to tackle her Chemistry class that awaited her. It wasn’t all of what she wanted, but for now it would do. She couldn’t go down this path with Franco. She sighed.

Poor Franco, falsely encouraged, took her hand and gave it a squeeze. He had no idea. To him, she probably seemed like a sexually forward woman, who would gladly meet him on a regular basis.

“You can drop me off here,” Wendy said, pointing to the main lecture hall.

“Sure, babe. Do you want to catch a movie? When can I pick you up?”

“You can’t.” Wendy ran her fingers through her hair to pry out loose bits of grass.

“Why not?”

She cringed at the injured tone in his voice. “It was just a one-time thing.” Swallowing the lump forming in her throat, she braced herself and met his gaze. “Listen Franco, you’re a nice guy, and that was fun. But I can’t go out with you. I’m busy.” It pained her to see his expression. Part of her was too ashamed of how she jumped his bones to ever make eye contact with him again. The other part propelled her to reach out and kiss him, hold on to him and let him hold on to her. But that could never happen.

“But, baby. I thought we shared something special just now. What do you think? That I’m the type of guy to fuck and run?” He narrowed his eyes.

“Don’t make it out to be more than it is.” She pecked him on the cheek and before he could protest, she slammed the door and sprinted half-way up the steps to the lecture hall.

Wendy creaked open the classroom door. Class had already started. She slid into the seat next to Gloria, who eyed her up and down.

“Your buttons are crooked,” Gloria whispered in her ear.

As discretely as possible, Wendy undid the top few buttons on her blouse and re-buttoned them evenly.

She directed her attention to the lecture. Chemistry normally gave Wendy fits, but today, as she scribbled furiously in her notebook to get down each idea and fact, the concepts penetrated her brain with ease.

“Ms. Johnson,” the professor said. “Can you remind us what we call the phase transition from solid to gas?”

Without hesitation, Wendy answered, “Sublimation.”

The quick, correct answer surprised her.

The professor’s eyebrow went up and he nodded. “Too bad, you missed it on the homework assignment,” he said and went on with the lecture.