Authors: Harold Robbins
I held her face tightly. After a moment she sat up and looked at me. I was still inside her, but she made no move to let me go. She looked down at me. “Your energy particles are diffused,” she said.
I smiled. “They should be.” Over her shoulders, daylight was coming through the window. “We’ve been fucking for hours.”
“That’s not the reason. I feel I came a thousand times, but you didn’t even come once.”
“That’s the coke. It gives me a hard that won’t quit. But if I overdo it, I can’t come.”
“It’s not the coke. I’m on the third plane now. I know about those things.”
“I forgot,” I said. “Peace and love.”
“Peace and love,” she replied automatically. “I know a lot more now than when we were together the last time.” She rose to her knees and moved up until she was over my face. “Drink me,” she said.
I put a hand on each buttock and brought her down to me. She was honey and myrrh, pomegranates and tangerines, mulled wine and mountain dew and all the sweet tastes of love. I felt the muscles in her buttocks strain as she shuddered again and I bathed in her sweetness.
This time she rolled on her back, her chest rising and falling heavily. “I can’t stop coming,” she said. “My cunt feels like I’ve had the kinetic conductor on it for a week.”
I didn’t say anything.
After a moment she sat up and leaned over me. She closed her hand over my cock and looked at it. “It’s beautiful,” she said, kissing it. Then she took the glans in her mouth and gently flicked her tongue across the tip. Afterward she held it close to her cheek, her eyes closed. “I wish you could come,” she said.
“I told you. It’s the coke.”
She opened her eyes and looked at me. “No, it’s not the coke.”
“What is it then?”
“You’re in love with her,” she said.
“In love?” I was surprised. “With who?”
“Eileen.”
“You’re crazy.”
“No, I’m not,” she said seriously. “I told you I’m on the third plane. I see things more clearly now. I was across the street when you came out with her. I saw your auras as you walked to the car. They merged into each other with love and when you kissed her, there was enough light to turn the night into day.”
“What else did you see?” I asked.
“There was a man in a doorway across the street from the car. He was waiting to see you. I didn’t see him, but I felt his aura and I knew he meant you no harm, so I came upstairs.”
I didn’t speak.
“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” she said in a puzzled voice. “Why isn’t she here with you?”
I looked at her.
“I wouldn’t mind,” she said. “I love you and you love each other and so, of course, I love her too.”
***
It was late afternoon when I awoke; the sun was beginning to move down in the west. I sat up and reached for a cigarette. The bedroom door was closed, but I could hear music from the radio. I lit the cigarette and went into the bathroom. When I came out, she was waiting for me with a tray in her hand.
“Get back into bed,” she said.
“I have work to do.”
“Get back into bed and eat your breakfast,” she said firmly. “You’re not working today. You have to allow your energy particles to regroup.”
The smell of the freshly brewed coffee and the steak and eggs made my mouth water. I hadn’t known I was so hungry. I got back into bed and she put the tray across my legs.
I picked up the glass of orange juice while she poured the coffee. “I didn’t know we had food in the refrigerator.”
“I went to the store while you were sleeping,” she said. “You had absolutely nothing.”
I finished the juice and began to eat. She watched me for a moment, then went back to the door. “Call me when you’ve finished and I’ll come get the tray. Then you’re going back to sleep.”
“What are you going to be doing?”
“Getting things straight out there. I can’t believe the mess. The place hasn’t been cleaned in months.”
She closed the door behind her and I cut into the steak. It was perfect, pink and rare, and the eggs were just as I liked them, the yolks hot but still soft. I cleaned the plate as if I hadn’t eaten for months.
She seemed to have a built-in sensor because she came in just as I finished and poured the second cup of coffee. She picked up the tray.
“Leave the coffeepot,” I said.
“No more than two cups. I want you to go back to sleep.”
“But I’m not sleepy.”
I was wrong. I leaned back for just a moment to rest my eyes and the next thing I knew it was nine o’clock at night. Again the built-in sensor seemed to be working because she came into the bedroom just as I woke up.
“What did you feed me?” I asked. “I went out like a light.”
“Nothing. You were just making up for a sleep deficiency. Now take a nice hot bath and relax while I put fresh linen on the bed. Afterward you can slip into a comfortable robe and you come out for dinner. I have a nice roast chicken in the oven.”
I had no arguments. I was feeling better than I had in a long time. I got out of bed and kissed her nose. “Hey, why are you so good to me?”
“I told you. I love you,” she said in a matter-of-fact voice. “Now go in and take your bath.”
I found an already rolled joint on the night table and took it into the bathroom with me. I loved to smoke in a hot tub. I knew of no better way to relax and feel good. High, but not too high. Up and easy. By the time I got out of the tub a half hour later the whole world glowed. I finished brushing my hair, but when I looked for my robe, it wasn’t there. I went into the bedroom and found it, freshly washed and neatly ironed, lying across the bed. I put it on and went into the living room. I stood there frozen with surprise.
The furniture had been moved, and the room completely rearranged. It was as if it suddenly had become twice its previous size. Now the work area was just inside the entrance door in a neatly compact arrangement, instead of scattered throughout the room, as it had been. The couch had been moved to the wall on the far end of the room. There was a cocktail table in front of it and an easy chair at right angles to it, so that it created a warm conversation corner. The small round dining table had been moved from the kitchen to a place in front of the window. It was beautifully set with pink linen, dinner plates, wineglasses and silverware. In the center of the table was a combined crystal candlestick and flower vase, which held a single rose and a glowing red candle. Next to it was a bottle of Château Mouton Rothschild, already opened and breathing.
But it was the sight of Eileen coming toward me, a tremulous smile on her lips, offering a scotch on the rocks, that really blew my mind. “Like it?” she asked. “We’ve been working all afternoon.”
I stared at her like a dummy.
Denise came toward us, carrying a valise. “Sit down and enjoy your drinks while I unpack Eileen’s bag.”
I found my voice. “What made you come?” I asked Eileen.
“I called her and told her about your auras,” Denise said.
“That’s gotta be crazy,” I said.
“Is it? Just look at the two of you now. Your incandescence is lighting up the whole room.”
She went into the bedroom and I looked at Eileen. “Do you believe that shit?”
“I have to. I’m here, aren’t I?”
I put down the drink and she moved into my arms. Her lips were soft, her mouth warm and sweet and the press of her body against mine was like a counterimage of my own that had been missing all the time.
The table had been set for just the two of us and when I asked Denise to join us, she refused. “Your auras aren’t ready for me yet,” she said.
I don’t know what Eileen and I talked about. The dinner was delicious, but I don’t remember eating it. Then suddenly it was midnight and Denise had vanished. Neither of us had seen her leave.
“Where did she go?”
“I don’t know.”
I sipped the wine. “Do you think she might be Cinderella?”
Eileen laughed. “No. I am. And you’re Prince Charming.”
I picked up the bottle of wine. “Come into the bedroom.”
I opened the door and stood there for a moment. Denise had worked her little magic in there, too. The bed was turned down, a candle was glowing on the night table and there was a note lying on the pillow.
Eileen went to the bed and picked up the note.
“What does it say?” I asked.
“Peace and love,” she said.
I put the wine on the night table. “You never told me what she said that made you come here.”
“She said that you couldn’t come unless you were with me. That I was the only one who could get your energy particles to regroup and become whole again.”
“Do you believe that?”
“Of course I do,” she said. “She told me you fucked her all night and never came. Not even once.” She came toward me and began to open my robe. She bent forward, pressing her lips to my nipples. “It’s not going to be like that tonight,” she said, her fingers tracing a gentle line down the center of my body.
I didn’t know then how right she was. But I found out. Being inside her was not fucking—it was going home. Drinking her was not drinking—it was swallowing the juices of life. Sucking her breasts, I was her child feeding on the milk she’d made for me and each time she gave to me, she took from me because she was the eternal fountain of my life.
I lay back against the pillow, her head resting on my shoulder. She turned her face toward me. “I love you,” she said.
I started to answer her.
She placed a silencing finger against my lips. “Don’t say anything. Not now. It’s not the time yet.”
I was silent. I knew there was still a lot I had to learn about myself.
“Kiss me good night, my love. And let’s go to sleep.”
***
I woke with the first hint of daylight. I looked across the pillow at Eileen. She was in deep sleep, her face soft and vulnerable. I wanted to touch her and stroke her, but instead, I slipped out of bed, drew the window drapes quietly and went out of the darkened room into the living room. I walked to the kitchen, turned on the light and began to fill the coffee percolator.
“I’ll take care of that.” Denise’s voice came from behind me.
I turned around. She was standing naked in the doorway. “Where did you come from?”
“There,” she said, pointing.
I followed her finger and saw the sheet, blanket and pillow on the couch. “I thought you’d left,” I said.
“How could I?” she asked, taking the percolator from my hand. “I work here, don’t I?” She began to spoon coffee into the pot. “I thought it would be nice if the two of you were alone for a while.”
“That’s nice of you,” I said. “When did you come back?”
“Right after you turned out the living-room light.”
“Then you were here all night?”
“Yes.” She smiled. “It was beautiful. I was right, you know. She regrouped your energy particles. You came four times.”
“I wasn’t keeping score,” I said sarcastically. “What were you doing? Peeking through the keyhole?”
“I don’t have to,” she said seriously. “I’m tuned into your aura. I came with you kinetically each time.”
“Oh, shit,” I said disgustedly. “Now I’ve got no privacy at all. Look, this just isn’t going to work.”
“Don’t be so negative. We’re all good for each other. Everything will work out fine.” She stepped closer and touched me. “See? I know what I’m talking about. You’ve got a hard-on. I felt it in your aura when you came into the room.”
I stared at her speechlessly.
“Would you like a little fuck while the coffee is perking?” she asked seriously.
I broke up. A puzzled look came over her face. I kissed the top of her head. “You know you’re beautiful,” I said. “But right now I’ve got to take a piss.”
CHAPTER 39
Macho
hit the newsstands the third week in April. The following Monday the advertising campaign went into full gear. Our ads appeared on fifty-five independent television stations, on four hundred and nine radio stations and in one hundred and sixty newspapers in key cities all over the country. It was a heavy saturation campaign designed to run a full week, but it didn’t turn out that way.
By Wednesday we were off television completely. Only twenty-one newspapers were continuing to accept our advertising and only about one hundred and forty radio stations were still airing our commercials. By Friday police in various cities had confiscated the magazine from ninety-three newsstands and had arrested forty-two news dealers. The Hearst newspapers across the country ran an editorial decrying the fact that such a magazine could be advertised, without making any mention of the fact that they had run the ads themselves on Monday and Tuesday. On Sunday two detectives from LAPD served me with a warrant to appear in court the following Friday on charges of breaching the peace and committing a public nuisance. The story was picked up by the wire service and went out over the national media, TV, radio and newspapers. By Wednesday, two days before I was due to appear in court, Ronzi was screaming at me to go back to press. We were sold out. One million copies. Sold out.
On Thursday night Phyllis Diller, substituting for Johnny Carson on
The Tonight Show
, came out for her opening monologue wearing a giant white cowboy hat and over her dress a plastic dry cleaning bag on which had been painted a yellow polka-dotted bikini. She carried a six-gun in each hand. Strutting belligerently into a close-up, she challenged the camera in a harsh, strident voice, “Are you man enough—to tear my bikini off?” The audience went wild as Doc Severinsen played “Pistol Packin’ Mama” in the background.
We’d all gathered together to watch the program, having heard about it from one of the distributors in the East, who had seen it three hours ahead of us.
“You gotta go back to press after this,” Ronzi said. “We can sell another five hundred thousand copies.”
“No way. I just ordered them to run the next issue.”
“That means we’ll have nothing on the stands for more than two weeks.”
“That’s right.”
He turned to Lonergan. “Can’t you make him listen?”
Lonergan smiled. “He’s the publisher.”
“Christ,” Ronzi complained, “we got another three hundred grand in our hands and you’re letting it slip through our fingers.”