The Seduction Of Claudia (10 page)

"I don't. I'm sad because you didn't have all the things you should have had growing up. You had so much going against you. But in spite of that, you became a phenomenal woman, Claudia. I can't imagine how you did it..."

Not willing to acknowledge what he'd just said, Claudia ignored him and avoided looking at him.

"So. Umm. I won't feel bad if you don't want to see me anymore."

"What? Why the hell would I not want to see you anymore?" A tinge of anger crept into Andrew's voice as he slid her off his lap and stood up.

"Because now you know all there is to know about me. You can't possibly want to be with someone who's as damaged I am, someone who's had a life as fucked up as mine! So you can just go and spare us both the mess of a long, drawn out break-up," she said with more than a little anger of her own.

"That's what you think of me? You think I'd just cut and run just because your so-called mother was a whore who endangered the safety of her innocent child by turning tricks at home? Maybe I should leave if you think that's the type of man I am," he said disgustedly.

"I know you're a good man, Andrew," she tried to reason with him. "That's why I'm giving you an out. You're too decent a guy to just leave after all I've told you. Even if you wanted to leave, you'd stay, because in your mind, that would be the right thing to do. I don't want you feeling trapped in this relationship, or whatever it is we have, by duty and obligation. I'm not going to fall apart if you're not around -- I was fine before and I'll be fine again. So if you want to, you can go and there'll be no hard feelings."

"I should take you up on the offer, just to teach you a lesson," he said, through gritted teeth. Claudia had never seen him this angry and, in an odd way, it thrilled her.

"But I won't leave, Claudia. As angry as I am with you right now for pulling this crap on me, I will not leave. You're not the sum total what happened to you. You're not," he said, grabbing her shoulders and giving her a firm shake. "You're just you and I'm just me."

She looked up at him, felt an almost irresistible urge to push him further, to make him so angry he would just go and leave her like she knew he would anyway. She was so crippled by her past that the idea that their relationship could work seemed ludicrous. Unwisely, she had become attached to him again and knew that she'd be heartbroken when their affair ended. As she had when they dated before, she wanted to just sever the ties between them before she got in any deeper. Feeling suddenly exposed, she averted her eyes from his gaze.

Andrew seemed to sense that she was poised to flee. He took her chin and forced her to look him in the eye again, saying fiercely, "No, you're not going to run and hide behind all those walls you erect to protect yourself. I'm not here to hurt you! You've got to wake up to the fact that not everyone is as callous as your mother. It sucks that she should have been the one person in your life that you could always trust and rely on. But she wasn't. She was thoroughly evil. And that's never going to change; she'll never be the mother you want or deserve. I am sorry to the bottom of my heart that your childhood wasn't what it should have been."

He let go of her and paced a few steps away. Turning around, he looked at her intently and continued speaking.

"What you've been doing... This 'independent, I-don't-need-anyone' schtick is pretty immature, you know. You're living in the past, Claudia! Don't you see that? You're letting what happened back then dictate your life now. You're still a victim of the past. Is that what you really want to be? Someone who's not able to see herself for the strong, stable person she is? Do you want to be that sixteen-year-old girl whose life was turned upside down for the rest of your life? You deserve better than that and so does that little girl... Don't let all of her suffering be in vain. Move on and live your life! The past is holding you captive because you are letting it. And only you have the power to set yourself free," he finished.

Speaking more calmly and with his eyes boring into hers, he appealed to her, "Baby, you've been living your life in solitary confinement. Never letting anyone come close to you because you're afraid of what will happen if you let yourself care or be cared for; you shut down emotionally, build walls around you to protect yourself. That's no way to live. Don't you see? You have so much to offer; that's why you have the friends you have, people who love you and want to take part in your life. You won't let them, but they take what you're willing to give and are happy to have it... You can't think that everyone is a sick sociopath like your mother, running around intentionally hurting people... We all have failings, Claudia. We're none of us perfect. That means that sometimes, without realizing it and without meaning to, people will do and say things that hurt. But that's the human condition; we deal with it and move on. I would think that someone as sensitive, talented and creative as you would pick up on, and revel in, how beautiful the nuances of life can be. But all you've done is run away... You're really missing out."

He stopped talking and looked at her, waiting for her reaction. She pulled her eyes away from his and walked to the fireplace and stared at the flames inside it. Listening to him, really hearing him, was hard. How dare he? she thought with righteous indignation. Although... Perhaps what he said held more than a grain of truth. She had never thought about it in quite those terms. She could admit that, possibly, she was a victim of her past. She hadn't ever made a move in her life without considering the past, without making a conscious decision to make sure that whatever she was doing was as unlike what her mother would have done as possible. She also admitted that she did take great satisfaction from the control she exacted over her life, in direct contrast to how she'd always felt that her childhood had been chaotic. And she definitely kept a safe distance between herself and anything or anyone with the potential to hurt her. Her past did influence her present, perhaps to an alarming, unhealthy degree. But then again, she didn't know what degree of past consciousness was healthy. She didn't even know whether or not 'normal' people placed such importance on the past. She'd have to give that some thought... What she did know was that, in a way, hearing Andrew say what he had said was liberating, as if he'd given her permission to do something she'd never have allowed herself to do. Maybe she was limiting herself and closing the door to possibility. Maybe she was capable of the happiness and freedom other people had. Maybe... just maybe, she even deserved to find some happiness of her own. She didn't know the answers to those questions and didn't think she'd be coming up with definitive answers any time soon. But, maybe...

"Claudia, I'm sorry if I've upset you by saying what I did, I can leave if you want me to. I'll understand if you don't want me around. I'm..." he hesitated, "glad? Glad seems to be the wrong word, given the circumstances, but I am glad, honored even, that you shared the secrets of your past with me. It couldn't have been easy. I'm just sorry that I thanked you for it by getting angry and giving you the burden of my own feelings in response. It probably wasn't what you needed tonight."

He paused, unsure of what to say or do.

Grabbing the poker, Claudia disassembled the fire and closed the screen so that it would die out safely.

Turning to Andrew at last, she said, "Don't leave. Let's go to bed."

A week had passed since Claudia had told Andrew all about her past. Much to her surprise, not much had changed between them. That is, there were no negative changes. Andrew hadn't changed in his behavior toward her in any way. She didn't feel as vulnerable as she had expected she would having him know about the shameful secrets she had kept to herself for so long. Though she certainly wouldn't be running around telling anyone who would listen about them, it did feel good to have someone who knew all about her, someone with whom she could share her burden. It was an immense relief to her to be able to talk to Andrew about everything.

She was having difficulty breaking the habit of constantly diverting attention from herself. She had to make a conscious effort to remember that she didn't have to do that with Andrew anymore. She had grown so accustomed to measuring her words carefully lest she reveal too much to anyone. Whenever anyone talked about a subject she was uncomfortable with or asked her questions about her background, she had always given a glib answer and turned the tables, so that the conversation centered on the other person. I suppose that's why people are always telling me I'm a good listener, she thought. She hadn't truly realized exactly how much time and energy went into concealing so much of herself. Now that she didn't have to, with Andrew at least, she was forced to admit that it hadn't been easy to perpetuate her deceit.

Old habits die hard, she thought. This was all still very new to her and she had decided to take things one day at a time. She knew she wouldn't blossom overnight into the type of chatty person who shared everything about herself with just anyone. She didn't think she was naturally inclined to be that type of person, anyway. She could already tell, though, that there was a heightened sense of closeness between her and Andrew, as if a barrier had come down between them and they could now see one another clearly. It occurred to her now that perhaps Andrew had always seen her clearly and that was why he still treated her the same way as he always had. She, on the other hand, had begun to see him a bit differently. She was beginning to believe that he actually was exactly who he presented himself to be. He wasn't like so many of the men she had known growing up, her mother's lovers, who pretended to be one thing or the other simply to get what they wanted. Andrew was real in every sense of the word; a man without artifice or guile.

Yes, she definitely felt closer to Andrew, she thought, leaning her head against the headrest of the bench seat in which she sat. The commuter rail train she was on was making all stops between the South Shore, where she'd attended a rehearsal, and Boston. It was taking forever to get home, but the long ride provided her with some much-needed solitary thinking time. She gazed out of the window of the train, taking in the wintry sights along the way. Though the suburbs were decorated with holiday ribbons and lights, the gay decorations did little to brighten the scenery, because of the overcast, drab gray day. There was snow on the way for sure. Christmas, two days hence, was sure to be a white one.

As she thought back to what Andrew had said to her the week before, about her being a victim of the past, she knew he was right. In just the week since she'd unburdened herself to him, their relationship had changed for the better. She really had been missing out on the fullness of all the relationships she had with people. She had loved her friends as much as she had allowed herself to. Fifi especially. But still, she had maintained a safe distance. When she thought of all the opportunities that may have slipped away because of her determination to protect herself, she felt a pang of regret. She had always been prepared for the 'real' side of people to emerge, had waited for the wolf to shed his sheep's clothing. Even among her friends. They would all be very hurt if they ever found out that she hadn't fully trusted them. She had never really trusted anyone.

She vowed to change that. She would try her best to stop expecting the worst of people. Again, she had to admit that Andrew was right when he had said that people are imperfect and fallible. Everyone made mistakes now and then, and sometimes others got hurt as a result. But that didn't mean that the person intentionally meant to inflict harm. It didn't mean that the person was necessarily a bad person. She had placed herself at such a remove from people that she had become judgmental of them before getting to know the essence of the person. Judgment was the very thing that she had been afraid would be directed at her; she had feared that, subjected to scrutiny, she would be found lacking.

She had been alone for so long. 'Solitary confinement', Andrew had called it, she thought, he's a really insightful guy. She had been in self-imposed exile; she had begun to have the feeling that she was pitted against the world. She had often felt that, even in a sea of people, an invisible force field surrounded her and kept her separate from the masses. She could visualize the bubble that had confined her and protected her from everything outside it. Now the bubble had burst and she was in full contact with the world. Even though the 'bubble' was metaphorical, it seemed to her that sights, sounds, tastes and textures were suddenly more vivid to her.

Andrew. It all circled back to Andrew. With a soft smile she thought back to the night she had made her revelations. It had been one of the most difficult things she had ever done in her life. She was immensely grateful that Andrew hadn't reacted as she'd expected. She'd been sure that he would react in the way she'd imagined while preparing herself for the 'worst case scenario' in which he would judge and reject her. She had been taken aback when he'd responded with compassion. She had been stunned and had foolishly gone ahead with her 'worst case scenario' response, telling him he could leave and never come back. She was glad she had, in a way, because it had given Andrew a chance to say all the things he'd said. He'd held a mirror up to her in which she was forced to see herself in a new way. In turn, she was now on the verge of rebirthing herself.

They had gone to bed that night, both of them feeling very quiet and slightly uneasy with one another. They had spooned together in the middle of her big bed and had fallen asleep without making love. She had woken in the small hours of the morning with what she could only describe as a soul-deep yearning to connect with Andrew. They had shifted in sleep in the hours they had been in bed and were no longer curled together. Andrew lay on his stomach, his face turned towards her, one arm thrown loosely over her midriff, the other stretched above him and supporting his head. She had lain on her back and watched him, her eyes drinking in the sight of him sleeping sweetly next to her.

Tentatively, she had reached out to touch him. A lock of his too-long, thick brown hair had fallen over his forehead. She brushed it back, then let her hand linger there, tracing the shape of the widow's peak at the center of his forehead. Her fine-boned fingers lightly traced the arch of his brow, the long straight line of his nose, the bow of his upper lip and the smooth, full curve of his bottom lip. His jaw was roughened by stubble and she reveled in the way it felt against her soft fingertips. He slept on, undisturbed by her explorations. She turned on her side to face him, the better to see him, to touch him.

She didn't want to wake him from what was obviously a peaceful slumber, but she couldn't resist the urge to lean in and brush the gentlest of kisses across his lips. As she pulled away, his arm tightened around her waist and he said,

"That's it?"

Claudia froze in the circle of his arm then relaxed back onto her pillow. Embarrassed, she darted a glace at him from beneath her lowered lashes.

"I didn't mean to wake you. You looked so peaceful. I'm sorry."

"The only thing to apologize for is that sorry excuse for a kiss," he replied, his sense of humor awake in spite of the hour and having had his sleep disturbed. "Come back here and do it right."

Claudia cupped his face in the palm of her hand and leaned in, pressing another light kiss to his lips. When she would have pulled away, Andrew held her fast. He didn't wrest control from her, but let her do as she would. She touched his face with light as air caresses of her lips and fingertips. She paused and Andrew opened his eyes to meet hers. He saw shyness and a touch of insecurity in them.

"It's OK. Come here," he whispered against her lips.

Her eyes closed on a wave of relief and, inexplicably, gratitude. She wanted him. Not ravenously as she had earlier that evening, when passion had swept them up into its fury then spit them out when it had run its course. No. This was different, a craving not to be ignored, to be sure, but a softer, gentler hunger.

She kissed him again, softly, lingeringly, glorying in the feel of his soft lips against hers. She pressed closer, opening her lips on his and receiving the sought for response from Andrew as he opened to her. Claudia sipped at his mouth, her tongue darting out to test the texture of his lips, delving into his mouth to rub against the varied textures to be found within.

Andrew fought against the urge to drag her more closely to him and deepening their kiss. He wanted all of her. Now and always. He held back, though, determined to let her take the lead. He kissed her back with the same pressure she exerted, conducted explorations of his own. He wished he could somehow absorb her; that he could join with her more deeply than any lovemaking could allow.

Claudia sealed her lips to his, finally deepening the kiss. She felt her body blooming, her skin becoming heated as arousal coursed through her. Not breaking the kiss, she pushed him to his back, pressed her torso to his and straddled his legs. She molded her body to his, feeling her softness melt around the harder planes and angles of his body. She couldn't resist grinding her pussy against the bulge that was growing inside his boxers. Andrew's hands tightened on her ass as he felt the heat of her through the thin cotton pajama bottoms she wore.

Leaning up, Claudia stripped out of the tank top she had worn to bed and tossed it to the floor. Lowering herself, she pressed her breasts to his chest. She captured his lips with hers in a fiery kiss, their tongues tangling together, breaths mingling. Andrew's hands bracketed her waist, slid up and down her back, caressing her smooth, warm skin. He moved them down and, cupping her ass, ground up against her mons. Claudia gasped at the sensation of him, of his cock pressed hard and rampant against her pussy.

Breaking the kiss, Andrew rolled her over and onto her back. He lay alongside her, took her mouth in a gentle kiss, his lips a mere whisper on hers. His hands roamed over her, lightly caressing her breasts and the sensitive places on her neck. Claudia pressed upward, needing to feel more of him, impatient with his teasing. Reaching up, she tunneled her fingers into his thick hair, pulled his mouth more tightly to hers.

Andrew groaned in submission, let her deepen the kiss. They devoured one another and the flames between them flared even higher. His hands firmed on her flesh; he palmed her breasts, massaging them, molded the supple flesh in his hands. Her nipples were hard nubs, sensitive even to the air in the room that brushed across them. Andrew pulled away from her, watched his hands as they played across her breasts, took in the sight of her body responding to his. He lowered his head, his tongue licking out to flick her nipple teasingly. He traced his tongue around her areola, purposely avoiding the nipple. Claudia gasped, arching her back in her search for more. Her fingers tightened in his hair as she guided his mouth to where she wanted it. Andrew curled his tongue around the tightly furled peak and Claudia's sigh of relief turned to a gasp as he sucked her nipple into his mouth. As he sucked, he ran his tongue roughly across her nipple. She felt a rush of desire that pooled between her legs at the velvety feel of his tongue.

Claudia reached down and shimmied out of her pajama pants as Andrew continued to dance attendance on her breasts. She draped her leg over Andrew's, ran her hands down the sides of her body. She spread her legs wider, caressed her inner thighs and up, up until she reached the hot, wet folds of her pussy. She spread the lips open with one hand and used the other to dip in and capture her thick wetness. She slicked her fingers up to her clit, traced light circles around it. She felt her pussy muscles ripple and knew she was on the verge of coming. She wasn't ready for that yet, so she took her hand away from her clit, moved it down further to play in the wet delta between her thighs, lightly exploring her flowering sex, smearing her juices all over.

She moaned, shuddering at the sensations that coursed through her body. Andrew lifted his head from her breasts and whispered,

"Touch yourself; I want to watch you..."

A thrill of arousal rushed through her. She had never had anyone watch her pleasure herself. It seemed a wicked, wanton thing to do and that fact excited her. Andrew moved down, kneeled between her spread legs, spread them even wider so her pussy was open. He gazed down at her, seeing her wet lips spread explicitly, glistening in the darkness of the room.

Claudia felt shy all of a sudden. She felt completely exposed, vulnerable. She tried to close her legs, but, of course, couldn't because Andrew sat between them. Her inner thighs clamped around his legs where he knelt between hers.

"Don't. You're beautiful; let me look at you," he entreated huskily. He placed his hands on the insides of her thighs, caressed as he gently pushed her legs up and open. She lay before him, legs splayed obscenely. She quivered as she felt the impact of his intent gaze on her pussy. Her inner muscles tightened, rippled in anticipation. Andrew reached out, rubbing his fingers through the wet between her legs. Claudia's hips arched into the caress.

Andrew took her hand, guided it to her pussy, encouraged her to touch herself. Their eyes met and Andrew caught the look of uncertainty that flickered in hers. He leaned over her, kissed her deeply, fanned the flames of desire. He moved his mouth to her breasts, sucked her nipples. Claudia gasped as heat flooded her and a new wave of wetness crested under her fingers. Slowly, she began to massage the lips of her pussy. Andrew felt the movement of her hand where it was pressed between them and levered up, resumed his position kneeling between her thighs.