Tempted (27 page)

Because of our
metaphysical
closeness, but physical distance, one of the ways we p
articipate in each other’s lives
from afar
is
by being right there in spirit when
one of us has
something big going on.
 
I can’t count how many times I’ve
ask
ed
what time one of his meetings or presentations was to be held so that I could ‘be there’
to support him.
 
I would
then
do the math to determine what time his meeting in Italy would translate to here in California.
 
He always told me he could literally feel the difference if I was not ‘there’ to bolster him.
 

My mind wanders back to all things Alex.
 
A satisfied sigh escapes my lips
,
an
d I realize how grateful I am
–
 
g
rateful to
have Alex as a love interest, a
nd grateful to have David as a friend.

The day of the funeral is something out of a Bronte sisters novel
–
bleak, windy and eerily quiet.
 
If Danielle were attending it, she would have thrown a fit about the dourness of the proceedings.
 
Her sweet, timid, conservative parents are beside themselves.
 
Her dad attempts to give a simple eulogy
,
but breaks down and I, the talk show gal, am asked on the spot, in front of the congregation
,
to ad lib.
 
I instantly go blank and tongue-tied
,
but somehow manage to pull it off reasonably well.
 
In thanks and solidarity, her parent
s hold onto me, making me
part of the receiving line
as the p
rocession
of mourners works
its way out the church doors.

There are few of us at the actual burial ceremony that follows.
 
I generally do very well with death.
 
Based on my personal views of infinity and eternity
,
I have high hopes for the hereafter.
 
But gazing at Danielle’s parents across the gaping rectangular hole that will soon swallow their daughter, and seeing them huddled together racked with tears, is more than I can take.
 
My composure begins to crumble.
 
Just as I feel I am about to hyperventilate, a calming hand takes mine
,
and I squeeze it for a few seconds to steady myself.
 
When I look to see whose hand I’m holding
,
I am too stunned to speak.
 

In the last year and a half
,
I’d come up with a dozen or so scenarios as to how we’d first meet, what I’d wear, what we would do.
 
None of them ever included a funeral.
 
I look up into David’s warm, handsome face and all care and pain vanish on the spot.
 
This is no mere friend.
 
This is David.
 

The minister reads a benediction
,
and Danielle’s parents throw red rose stems on her coffin.
 
We are all invited to follow suit.
 
The moment it’s all over
,
I am in David’s arms, covering my face and weeping, a mass of emotion.
 
I introduce him to Danielle’s parents and they are agog.
 
“You mea
n you’re
that
David?” they ask,
 
and
I realize Danielle’s parents know more about my priv
ate life than my own m
om.

The thought unleashes a new torrent of tears
,
an
d David resumes his bear hug, t
his time shushing me soothingly, stroking my hair and kissing the top of my head.
 
I can’t believe how natural this seems, being with him.
 
It’s impossible to believe we’ve never met till today.

After the proceedings conclude, David and I stop for a bite at the first little dive we can find.
 
Turns out it’s Italian
,
and the waiter barely speaks English.
 
David puts him at ease by conversing in Italian, which results in free cheesy garlic bread for us both.
 
Viva, Italia!
 
We have dinner and chit chat about anything and everything, neither of us giving any hint that any of this is weird.

“Sooooo,” I say at length.

“Yes?” he replies, cocking his head to the side and suppressing a grin.

“So, that remark on the phone about ‘being here’ with me.
 
That was for real.”

“Looks like it.” he says with a wry smile.

“I can’t believe you came all this way just for me. Well, and for Danielle too.
 
You’re a class act, Rosselini.”

“Umm, actually, I was planning on coming back in a couple of weeks anyway.”

“Oh?
 
Is there a conference here in the city?”
 
I ask.

“Not exactly.
 
I’m moving here.”

“You’re what?” I bellow, frightening all
of the diners seated within a twenty
-
foot radius.

Alex chooses that very moment to text me, asking how I’m doing and how the funeral is going.
 
His considerateness is lost on me
, and I feel I’
ve just ha
d the air knocked out of me –
but I don’t know if it’s in a good or bad way.
 
All I know is that I’m in shock.
 
David is here, to stay.

* * *

Throughout the course of our
conversazzione
I learn that David has some new business prospects based in the city and San Jose.

“It just seemed practical to make the move.
 
Nothing compares to the experience of getting to know someone face-to-face when you’re developing a relationship.”

I instantly feel a sting in my heart.
 
Thi
s is what David and I never had –
that in-person connection where you see every nuance that crosses the other’s face,
every
smile,
every twinkle of
the eyes, every gesture and posture
.
 
We never had that, till now, now when it’s too late.

He picks up on my train of thought and quickly amends, “I find it important in growing a team and business.
 
And I was ready to come back to the states.
 
I’m building a houseboat in Sausalito, actually.
 
It was supposed to be finished by now, but you know contractors.
 
My sweetie will be coming over when it’s done.”

I frown involuntarily, even though I know better.
 
“How does Giselle feel about moving here?”

“Haha!
 
I’m talking about Matilda.”

“Oh, new girlfriend?” I ask.

“Not so new.
 
Thoug
h
she is rather young.
 
About seven
teen,
actually.”

I gasp in mild horror
,
and he laughs then chokes, unable to answer for a minute or so.
 
And I wonder if he has somehow been run out of Italy for having an affair with this youth.
 
When his powers of speech return
,
he manages to blurt out, “Matilda is my Au
stralian sheep dog.
 
She’s just over
two years old in people terms.”

I sit dumbfounded but relieved, as he chokes and coughs and excuses himself to the restroom to regroup and dry his tears of laughter.

I take that moment to view Alex’s text.

ALEX:
 
Kisses. This sort, tonight. My right hand reaches, and palms your cheek, lingers there for a moment, and slides back around to the nape of your neck...

ME:
 
Oh G
od
…
dying

ALEX:
 
I draw you toward me, and move to meet you with my mouth
.
Eyes, looking deeply into yours, smiling, slowly closing as our lips meet
in a kiss that’s
long and soft and honey sweet

ME:
 
the things YOU say
!

ALEX:
 
I slowly part my lips, as my other hand reaches
around to the small of your back, and I pull you tight against me

ME:
 
Y
es...........

ALEX:
 
And taste your lips with my tongue, licking them softly, so gently it almost tickles but, not quite. It's another feeling t
hat arises, in your belly, and lungs
, and legs, and one I can feel in your chest as you take a deeper breath.
 
And in mine, as my tongue finds yours, and we sample each other's mouths, and heat begins to fill our faces and bodies, and I pull your mouth tighter, more passionately to mine

ME:
 
&^%$

ALEX:
 
I slide my hand, the one on your neck, up into your hair, where it finds a handful of silken strands, that I tug lightly, cupping your head

ME:
 
Y
ou are killing me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ALEX:
 
And our mouths dance, our tongues and lips seek, and find bliss. The world melts. Our bodies seek each other, pressing tighter, more urgently. And you can feel me below, rising, and pressed into you.

I lower my hand to your ass, and pull you tighter into me.

ME:
 
More

ALEX:
 
And my mouth wanders to your neck, your throa
t your breasts.

I slide your shirt down, one of those tank tops, that slips easily enough from your shoulders

ME:
 
G
urgle

ALEX:
 
And take your hardening nipple in my mouth, while my other hand grasps your other breast firmly,

Now...you'd better get to work. LOL

ME:
 
MORE!

ALEX:
 
All right then.
 
Come with me to the kitchen.
 
I’m just making dinner.
 
I lift you, behind your thighs, and rest you on the table. Lift your skirt.
 
I peel away your panties, while I continue kissing you, exploring your abdomen with my tongue and mouth, and reach a hand between your legs, to feel your inner thigh, and slide my hand to warmer, moister zones

ME:
 
O
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

S
ighhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
...
......... and then?

ALEX:
 
And
now my hand is massaging your y
oni, tantric style. From the outside, in, pressing you, and then small circular motions around your clit, as we both begin to focus on your most erogenous zones

ME:
 
Y
ou are incredibly giving

ALEX:
 
I gently clamp your clit between my
fingers, and carefully tug,
slide
and massage
your bud, being sure you're soaked before I slip my fingers inside, and make that 'come hither' gesture that sends your g-spot into little explosions.
 
And I listen to your body, and just as you’re about to erupt, I stop. And firmly press against your whole pelvic mound.
 
I want your excitement to build.