King Solomon's Journey (The Dominguez Adventures) (21 page)

            “Amanda…. we agree, the term obelisk works.” His voice was excited, so was she.

            “Well, lock-up the Smithsonian and let’s get back to your office. Antonio - this is awesome.”

            “Remember that, Amanda. I need these bonus points with you later.” Laughing, he locked-up.

            Amanda returned to her previous spot on top of his desk in front of him, and took her notes back out. Antonio removed her sandals while she shuffled papers. His fingers ran down her calves, past the ankles and made her whole body tingle.

            “Antonio, I don’t believe I can concentrate when you do that.”

            “I need to touch your legs right now. You understand, right? Tell me about the Obelisk, you have all my attention.”

            She nodded. What he didn’t understand was that he drove her crazy with every tingle.

            Antonio wanted to laugh when she nodded. Knowing for sure that she wanted him too, he wanted it to overcome her, in the same way she affected him.

            She was a nervous wreck. His fingers went a little higher, and explored the gentle curves of her inner thigh. Her eyelids fluttered.

            “Come on. Don’t make me wait. I want to know.” He pretended to walk his mindless fingers further. She bit her bottom lip.

            “I lost my train of thought. Limestone and sandstone, they are paramagnetic...” She closed her eyes for a moment.

            “Okay, you have more, right?” He went higher on the insides of her thighs.

            “Antonio, an obelisk constructed from sandstone, or limestone, is paramagnetic.” She struggled with the words and needed to breathe. His fingers ran across her panties, his lips kissed her knees. He sat straight up, back in the chair. She gasped.

            “How much protection do they offer?”

            She was dazed. “What?”

            “The Obelisk – the elements are a protection... how much of a protection? It’s a guard from the cosmic events, right?” He was elated.

            She wanted him to lay her on the floor and make love to her, right now. Trying to regain composure, she answered.

            “Yes, I think that is what my information suggests.”

            “Tell me more Witchy Woman.”

            “Sandstone and limestone are paramagnetic. Therefore, in a magnetic field they will absorb and attract the energy. As the field becomes denser, in effect, the field will increase. It will become one with the Earth’s field, aligning itself as the planet spins.

            Therefore, strategic placement of nonmetallic, obelisk-type structures made from limestone or sandstone would act as a protection from cosmic energy projected towards Earth. They will also protect against small static surges which often prove disruptive.” She raised both her eyebrows at him.

            “Do you not think this is huge?”

            “Huge, no… it’s humongous.” He moved his chair closer to her, again touching her thighs with his fingers and gazing at her. She felt the raw emotion. “Amanda, what was it that came to you?”    She smoothed her hair back. “See, I found reference to the sandstone and limestone, but it did not work with the translation. While I was lying in bed, it occurred to me that someone once told me that many of the words in the Hebrew have multiple meanings.

            Therefore, columns or pillars could be obelisks. If that were possible, it would work.” She continued to look into his eyes.

            He stood. His face was close to hers. He put his hand on her neck. Softly, he traced a line down her neck. She took a breath.

            His voice was low and raspy. “Amanda, there are many things I don’t presume to understand about you, you’re an erotic mystery.” He pulled her bottom lip into his mouth and paralyzed her. His fingers resumed their position against her thighs, under her skirt.

            His voice was now a hoarse whisper. “You’re hidden somewhere, let me in. Amanda, I want in there with you.”

            She felt weak. Dizzy, her mouth froze, speechless. He put his left hand behind her neck.

            “I want to explore you. I want to know all of you.” Tilting her back, he kissed her neck as it opened to him, sending tingles all over her body.

            “But, do you want me enough?”

            She wondered how she could want him anymore than she already did. What did he mean? Barely breathing, she was unable to answer.

            “Amanda, are you afraid?”

            There was no answer. She didn’t know what the answer was anyway. She let herself fall against his chest.

            Antonio didn’t understand why she hadn’t answered him. He assumed she wasn’t ready, or worse, that she didn’t intend to have a relationship with him after their adventure with the Scrolls. He released her and proceeded to put away their notes.

            Amanda was astonished, abandoned, as if he pulled the plug from her. Why did he do that? She felt ill. Without a word, she got down from her perch. Heading to the bedroom, she left him in the office.

            In his house, where could she hide? She needed to be alone to pull herself together. This was all too complicated. Everything had gotten too complicated, too fast.

            She sat on the round sofa in the bedroom and pondered why he changed his mind. After all, he was important to so many people. Actually, an entire field of discipline relied on him.

            At some point, this was bound to conclude. He would dedicate everything to his profession rather than a relationship. Hell, he was taking a vacation with her and this Scrolls adventure. She saw that in his damn workroom, lab, or whatever he called the place.

            He’d asked if she was afraid. How stupid - of course she was afraid. Didn’t he think she would be terrified? Did he want some guarantee? How would she know if they never tried? Whatever happened to taking small steps? I guess that’s a high school mentality, but it’s still a good idea, especially for people with a history of traumatic experiences.

            She didn’t want to just plop herself out on top of a desk anyway, nor would she.

            “Wham, Bam, thank you Ma’am.” Her college friends had always joked about guys who pretended to like you so they could get what they wanted. Once they scored, it was like flipping an electrical switch, from hot-as-hell, to cold-as-ice.

            She’d always been good at spotting them. Nevertheless, she spent countless nights counseling her violated friends. No, not legally violated and proven in a court of law, but still - violated.

            Antonio knew she never promised it would be smooth sailing. Sometimes your brain and body are not in harmony. Trauma becomes part of a person’s cells. The brain may say, ‘Come on’, while the other parts of your body tighten into ‘Fight or Flight’ response, and you have to deal with it.

            Sometimes, there are triggers in the mind that disable you from pinpointing or recognizing trauma. Often, recovery requires focusing on the unknown triggers. You take small steps if you have to, for reassurance, but you feel and you try.

            Maybe he didn’t want to face that task for the potential disappointment. Now, she was furious. He wanted a contract, a promise that once they got started, she would finish. Sorry, she would not sign that contract. Unfair, this had become unwelcomingly complicated.

            Antonio entered the room, and spotted Amanda on the sofa. She appeared livid. Maybe she got a bad phone call or something.

            “Amanda, did something happen? Did you receive some upsetting news?” His voice showed concern. She shot him a look that said he was the craziest man she’d ever laid eyes on.

            He was astonished. What in the hell had he done? This was insane. Okay, he’d taken a bit of latitude with her, perhaps pushed the physical envelope beyond her comfort zone. Even so, when she didn’t grant him permission, he backed off.

            Now he was angry. He’d told himself. Wait, let her initiate. Let her decide when, what, and how much. He shouldn’t have touched her so much. Now he felt sick because he’d traumatized her. If he tried to comfort her now, it would probably freak her out. He rubbed his head. It was all too complicated.

            “Amanda, I’m sorry. I lost my head and took too much liberty. I know, I’m not a kid, and I behaved like one. I promise I’ll wait until you’re ready. There’s no excuse. I apologize and hope you can trust me.” His voice was sincere.

            What in the hell was he talking about? Now he was never going to touch her again. Did he want to punish her? The fury was still in her voice. She tried to maintain, but it was difficult.

            “Antonio, what are you talking about? Wait, I need to say this first. I cannot give you a damn contract stating everything will go great the first time. There are no guarantees. I am afraid. Hell, I am afraid on so many levels I should write a book about it.

            I am more scared of falling in love with you than I am scared of anything that could trigger any physical response. In the future, I am terrified that I will need something I have learned to live without for so long. I am afraid – terrified. Send me home. I cannot write out a contract guaranteeing when we finally make love, it will all be perfect.

            By the way, I’m still pissed that my mother told me - Men can’t stop once they get started. Intellectually, I will know, until the day I die, that it’s not true. Yet, on some innate level, I swear I still believe her.

            Call off this charade, Antonio. I am unable to promise anything you want promised. You scare the hell out of me, and on so many levels that it blows my mind. I guess I am crazy, or pitiful, because I’m scared. I can think no longer. I let it paralyze me, but if I said it wasn’t there, it would be a lie.” She said all of it without taking breath.

            Damn. They weren’t having the same thoughts at all. During intellectual conversations, they finished each other’s sentences. Apparently, love and sex were total opposites. Despite her oratory of fury, he had no clue as to what she wanted, expected, or needed from him.

            All he got from it was her mother hated him and thought he was a rapist. In addition, Amanda believed her.

            He hadn’t lived long enough, nor learned enough to know how to respond. He wanted to throw up. Insulted most by the idea that he couldn’t stop, he knew he could stop. Of course he could stop, he just proved it.

            He wanted to talk to her damn mother. How in the hell did that woman know anything about his sexual habits? Maybe he should get Amanda’s phone and call her mom when she wasn’t looking. How could a woman say something so ridiculous to her daughter?

            Amanda was nuts about her Dad, and he was sure that her Father had never been that way. It must have been her Mother that savored her daughter’s virginity.

            Now Antonio was the man with the evil penis weapon. Once you release the safety, the damn thing had to fire. This was vulgar. Amanda was one of the smartest people he’d ever met, and she believed his penis was a .44 Magnum.

            This was Freud’s psychological castration. He wanted to love her with it, not murder her, and especially not destroy her ability to have future relationships. He’d never been this insulted. Even in casual relationships, he’d always treated women with respect. Never had he felt like such an ass.

            “Amanda, listen to me, don’t just hear my words. Listen. I can’t get past the idea that according to your damn mother, I want to injure you with my penis. No, let me talk, Amanda. Since I met you, my evil penis weapon has been primed and ready to go, several times a day. In fact, that’s an understatement.

            And guess what - in all that time, it hasn’t fired once. Not necessarily by choice, but still, it’s fine. I’m fine. You’re fine. My penis is fine, insulted, but fine.

            Now, I assume it’s not what it sounds like. She was trying to preserve a little girl’s virtue. However, she’d probably never forgive herself, if she thought you still bought into that myth. Hell, she probably doesn’t even remember saying it.

            You told me yourself, your parents were soul mates. They loved each other very much. Something tells me she hasn’t spent fifty years with your Dad believing his penis is an evil weapon.

            I’m going to ask you a question. Please, don’t do anything further, except answer the question. I want to take this one-step at a time. Amanda, humor me. Have you ever, even once, had a positive sexual experience?”

            “I almost did.” Her tone was barely a whisper.

            “Okay. Now work with me here. How would a sexual experience be almost good?” His kindness and love came through, even though his emotions felt mixed. He felt angry for her, not towards her.

            “It was good. It was not intercourse, but something happened. It was something that I had never experienced before, nor have I since. It was my first year of college. He was…he is, a great person. We were in a car by the lake. A cop came and reprimanded us, taking our names.

            A few weeks later, the cop told my Dad. He knew my Dad. Of course, he didn’t say that when he busted us. Embarrassed, I broke up with the guy.

            The other person I have had sex with was not capable of anything more than sex. I have explained that situation to you. Antonio, I believe in the importance and value of great sex. I am not bitter.” She didn’t want him to feel sorry for her. Pity made her ill.

            Antonio was sure he’d vomit. He’d underestimated what was going on here. Having studied culture his entire professional career, right now he felt cheated. His degree may as well have come out of a damn Cracker Jack’s box.

            He knew this was the result of culturing. This rigid culture still dominated many regions of this country. He now faced it right here, in his own life, culture trumping Intelligence.

            He had a beautifully intellectual woman, and she was a cultural victim. In fact, he was in love with her, a real, live, breathing victim of craziness. Our culture was just as cruel, maybe even worse than the so-called barbaric practices of the ancient civilizations he studied.