Tempted (34 page)

“
Please
Claire, close that window.
 
You want me to catch my death?
 
You only get one mother
,
you know.”

“Much better.  You may go now, Claire.”

I rose, trailing kisses upward across your moist, elegant body until at last, I tasted your tongue and let you suck your own
tantalizing
elixir from mine. I spread your legs with my knees, slid the shaft of my erection across your pleading
,
drenched l
ust
, and took you, burying myself within.
 
Slowly, attending to every detail of every fluid plunge of me into you, we gave ourselves completely to one another, lost in perfect, even divine
,
union. You lifted your hips to meet my thrusts in rhythmic bliss, sometimes meeting roughly, other times with just a soft kiss of skin. And then the tempo of our
passion
increased, grew and transformed into something raw, primitive, animal.

O
ur bodies met again and again with rabid, ferocious intensity. You thrust your hips higher, arching your back, offering yourself perfectly to my growing urgency. You clutched my forearms, clawed my back. And lifting your knees, squeezing me with your inner thighs you melted in trembling, silent, breathless
rapture
, gripping and releasing my impossibly swollen cock with your involuntary spasms. The exquisite sensations of your
co
ming, the feel of you tightening around me, the supple bounce of your b
reasts, the moans and gasps of wanton sex
, brought me to the most intense, transcendent and explosive orgasm I have ever known. I came in powerful, propulsive jets, flooding
you
.
Savoring
our lovemaking
,
we
both
fell
silent, still, except for the rhythmic pulsing of m
e
within your still-contracting loins. I rolled us over, you on top of me, and with your head on my chest, and me brushing your hair with my fingers, we fell asleep under the stars.

That was my morning.
 
How’s yours going? ;)

“Claire
...
Claire!
 
I said I’d like more orange juice.”

“I’ll get that for ya
,
Mamma Eden,” David offers.

“No no, David” (which she now pronounces
‘
Dahveed,
’
trying to sound Italian). “You’ve done enough.
 
Let Claire help for once.
 
She’s got nothing more exciting going on anyway.
”

The progress on David’s houseboat is going much more slowly than he was told to expect.
 
He feels awful about imposing
,
but I don’t mind at all.
 
Frankly, I anticipated this happening.
 
I’ve done my fair share of remodeling
,
and the contractors took exactly three times longer than they promised on their children’s lives.
 
Besides, it’s fun having David here.

He needs to make another three-day trip to San Jose
,
and though I offer to lend him my car, he prefers to get a rental so as not to inconvenience me.
 
Mom is not at all pleased about David’s absence
,
and has conveniently come up with a variety of flimsy excuses as to why she can’t come over during the next few days
–
not until David returns.
 
Even the menagerie seems out of sorts with him gone, and I’ve a good mind to put them all in the washing machine if they don’t shape up.
 
I seem to be the only one enjoying the house without David, as it has given me some lovely,
distraction-free time with Alex.

The first night alon
e is almost eerily quiet.
 
The a
utumn leaves are rustling and every little sound makes me think someone is lurking outside.
 
I get that familiar feeling I’m being watched, but now it feels disconcerting.
 
I ask Alex to stay on the phone with me till I fall asleep.
 
He gently suggests that thi
s might be a good time to video
chat.
 
After all, we’ve never talked face to face, even virtually.

I am in awe of his love and devotion to a person whose face he has never even seen.
 
Though I want to move to a ‘next level’ in our relationship, I’m still not ready for the whole video situation.
 
I just want to enjoy the good thing we now have going a little longer.

The first night David is gone
,
Alex and I get into a philosophical discussion, waxing profound on topics ranging from the meaning of life and quantum physics to sex fantasies and my admission to wanting to be dragged by the hair into a Neanderthal’s cave.
 

The second night, he conducts a cookery tutorial with me by phone.
 
He fell into cooking in his early teens when the chef at the restaurant where he worked pulled a prima donna and walked out.
 
Next thing Alex knew, he was wearing a white hat, and by the time he turned the ripe old age of fifteen, he was head cook and running the kitchen.
 
Later, he used his culinary skills to put himself through college.
 
And as his Facebook posts bear out, he has a way of making even
meatloaf sound li
ke an ex
otic,
orgasm-inducing delicacy.
 

The third night
,
he reiterates that he loves me, in no uncertain terms.
 
He tells me of his ongoing search for The One, and that I am she.
 
He paints an idyllic picture of our possible life together and begs me to come to New York to be with him.
 
He says he would come out here in a heartbeat were it not for his kids.
 
I explain that I can’t leave my mom, not while she’s on this earth.
 
He
quips
that if one were to do the math, Mom will leave this earth long before his kids
, who are ages ten and fifteen
.
 
Thus
,
I should plan on going to him when Mom one day moves onto greener pastures.
 
Clearly, he doesn’t know Mom.
 
I have no doubt she will outlive us all, even the
cockroache
s!

Aside from navigational negotiating, I am euphoric during our hours-long,
late-night conversations, reve
ling in Alex’s every honey-dipped word and becoming intoxicated by what I perceive as his absolute perfection.
 
I beg him to divulge at least one fault he possesses, just one.
 
He good-naturedly guffaws at the suggestion that he’s perfect.
 
Our talks become more intense and romantic and I know I’m beginning to
really
fall for this man, crazy as the whole thing sounds.

For the third night in a row
,
I fall asleep on the phone with him.
 
It’s comforting and
sweet,
and I cannot fathom going to sleep without him ever again.
 
Next morning when I turn on my computer, I find a message so earnest, honest and unabashedly candid that it overwhelms me with humility and a torrent of grateful tears.

7:44am

Alexander Armstrong

You asked me again, “W
hat are your faults, Alexander?
”
And I cou
ld tell you little things like ‘B
russel
s
sprouts make me gassy' or 'I snore' or 'I have a small, bizarre bald spot,' or ‘I have
a
vestigial tail.’ But that isn't what you mean, and if you cared about such things, I'd be disinterested in you to begin with. The fact is, I feel as blessed as any king who’s ever ruled.

I care not at all about dying, and so I fear nothing. Or at least
,
I fear nothing that might befall me. I care nothing of material thing
s –
I can live off the land, and happily so, if need be, and at times
,
I prefer that lif
estyle. I care nothing of women –
I've known beautiful women, savored their bodies, and even if I can count them on one hand, I understand and have experienced the allure of the flesh, and it doesn't command me in the least.

But you, Cariña, you've slipped into my heart and mind and soul. You've awakened me in a way I never could have even imagined, not in a million lifetimes. You ARE perfect, in every way, exactly as you are.

It breaks my heart to ask you to leave the land you love. But I promise, with everything that I am, that you will NEVER regret coming to me. There are only two things that bind m
e in any way to anything at all –
my children, and now, you. I've enjoyed perfect freedom. I never, ever would hav
e thought I'd find a woman who c
ould
do to me what you've done.

I want my true love. The ONE. You. I may not be worthy of you. But I'll use all of my considerable strength, all of my boundless love, all of the powers I possess to have you. I shall have you. You will come to me. I'll take you, heart, mind, soul, body. And because I love you, and perfectly so, I
would never, ever even ask
you if I were not POSITIVE that your coming to me, with me, wouldn't enrich you in a way that you'd never find elsewhere. I love you too much for my pride and arrogance to overcloud your best interests. But I AM your best interest. I know this because I know my heart. And you know this because my heart lies in your palm. You will have me. And I shall have you. Together, we'll be perfectly free, and soar to heights unknown. So when I call, you MUST come. There IS no choice. Love commands.

Right now, you're resting in Elysiac fields. Later, I shall find you there. I have you, wrapped safely in my arms. I shall command you. B
ut my command will be only this – be happy
. Bend to me and let me show you the meaning of bliss. I love you. Smile, because the One has found you and will never let you slip away, not for a second, not even an inch. I've got you.

I'll not say more until the time is right. But when it is, I will bring you to me, and you will come.

I shall convince you.

This is not a question, or conjecture, but fact.

You see, Sugar, t
he word 'convince' comes from a Latin term
meaning 'to conquer.' That,
Love, is what W
ILL happen. I shall conquer you. A
s formidable, as free, as brilliant as you are, I shall conquer you.

Goodnight, my love, my
Cariña
, my ONE.

“Honey, I’m home!” David says as he joyously burst
s through the front door,
sporti
ng his trademark dazzling smile.  He
plants a playful kiss on my lips and twirls me around in a bear hug, only putting me down to show me all the gifts he’s brought back for Mom and the menagerie, and me.

David is bouncing off the walls with enthusiasm.
 
His meetings in San Jose went incredibly well and
,
more importantly, he has prime seats for the hockey team’s season opener, tonight!
 
This time,
David
is driving to the arena, in his new car!
 
One of his cash cows finally yielded its milk and now he’s flush.
 
He offered to get out of my hair and stay at a hotel now that he’s got his money back, but I told him I wouldn’t hear of it.
 
He was thrilled and has been spoiling all of us, Mom too, ever since his return.

Behind the wheel of his off-the-showroom-floor, deep Imperial Blue BMW M6 convertible, he is like a kid blowing out his birthday cake candles
–
all wide eyes and smiles.
 
We make it to the arena in about half the time it took us on our last outing.
 
We arrive well in advance of the game
,
with enough time to find our VIP seats and amass as much junky concession food as we can carry.
 
Plus, David buys us an obscene amount of team merchandise, so we are more or less walking advertisements for the organizatio
n – jerseys,
hats, rally towels, bumper stickers, horns, you name it.
 
We look ridiculous and couldn’t be happier.