Sex and Death in the American Novel (14 page)

I couldn't help it when I said, “Well…you kind of are.” I let that hang for a second before I locked eyes with him and placed my hand over his. Our hands rested over his thigh.

I straightened up, puffed out my chest and spoke in my mother's voice, deep and prim, “My boy, you are only as old as you feel, I never act my age.” I dropped the voice and said, “I'm twenty-nine.” Then added, “You act like you're ancient.”

His eyes dropped to the floor, and I felt sorry I said that. I put my hand on his arm.

He looked at me then, long, like he was studying me. “You make me wonder about a lot of things.”

“Is that good?”

“You make me see how long I have gone without having any fun. I work all the time, or I am reading so I can be better at my work, or I am traveling to promote my work. I haven't had fun like this since college.” He
laughed. “Even then…in college I got drunk and passed out at a party. I thought I was having fun at the time.”

“Were you molested?” I asked.

“I woke up with a banana down the back of my underwear, and I had no pants on, but my socks and shoes were still on.”

“Did you at least find your clothes before you had to walk home?” I asked.

He shook his head, making a face and groaning.

“Talk about your walk of shame,” I said and added, “I'm glad you're having fun. I wasn't sure. You were so
stiff
before.”

He moved so that he was fully facing me and said, “I am now.”

“Good. I wouldn't want you to be here doing things you didn't want to do because maybe I made you feel guilty or something…”

One corner of his mouth turned down in a frown, the other curled up in an expression of amusement. He scooted closer and said, “No. Not anymore.”

Without taking my eyes off his, I reached over and poured more vodka into his glass, held back a laugh with a tight smile, then grabbed mine and took a long drink, relishing the distraction of the burn moving over my tongue and down the back of my throat.

He smiled and drank, then a familiar voice behind me. “I see you two hooked up.”

Barbara came around and sat on the sofa next to Eric and Alan who were now fully engaged. Eric's hand held Alan along the side of his body, swept over his ribs.

Laura came over and sat next to Barbara. She glanced at Eric and Alan and said, “Look how sweet,” but the couple ignored her.

Jasper and I sat back, and Jasper said, “Nice to see you again.”

“Tell me,” Barbara said, holding her hand straight out in the air, “are you having fun?”

“We sure are,” I said feeling lame, like I'd opened my mouth before checking the wind. I got up, and moved to give Barbara a kiss on her thickly made up face. “Thanks, I think,” I whispered and she squeezed my hand. “What would you have done if everything blew up instead of me getting to show him a good time?”

“Not to worry sweetie, I am a very good judge of people; I read you two like a minister reads his fire and brimstone.”

Chapter 7

When I came out of the bathroom, Laura was waiting for me. Her full lips barely shimmered with the remains of lipstick; underneath the color was a pink-tinged nude. Better. People behind her were dancing, one couple—a man and a woman—were making out from a sitting position on the wall, and Jasper was still chatting with Barbara. As Jasper saw me he gave me a short wave as if we were much farther apart and went back to talking and gesturing over their drinks.

Laura led me over to the dining table and we sat. Sitting upright in the stiff chair was sobering after the deep cushions of the couch. “So tell me about this guy,” she said with her eyes on Jasper.

I felt shy. What was there to say? I wasn't going to talk about Tristan, and I wasn't going to tell her something that may or may not be true, like I just met this guy, oh, and by the way he's like the type of writer people study in schools. Compared to him I might as well be selling vacuum cleaners door to door. And for some unfathomable reason he showed up to find me after I made an ass out of myself.

“I danced with him at Neighbours last night and we met up again tonight.”

“He was watching you, with this intensity, like he was trying to save every detail,” she said in a mock dreamy voice.

A grin broke over my face at that. This was not just some idiot I'd picked up as a diversion; this was someone important, someone from my mother's world. The thought gave me a thrill, all her stuffy people, what would they think about their wonder boy now. Two nights at a gay bar. God knew what was ahead. All around me the room filled further and further with people in all stages of undress.

She took my hand, flipped it over and laid it on the table. The tendons were delicate in her hands and they moved as she touched me. There was a chunky set of jeweled rings on one finger, and her nails were painted in a checkerboard pattern. On her thumb she had a small diamond embedded in the nail. She traced the blue vein that ran down my forearm from my elbow to the tip of my middle finger. When her fingers passed over the inside of my palm I got a shiver.

“I missed you,” she said.

“Me too.”

Jasper pulled out a chair beside me and placed both of our drinks in front of us. He sat with both arms crossed on the table, watching and sipping his drink. She stroked the inside of my arm again. This time I let my head rest on the back my chair. Jasper shifted in his chair, causing a swish of the cloth against the seat fabric. I opened one eye, his face inches from mine, intently watching me first and turning to watch Laura then turned back to me. I held his gaze, noting the fact that his eyelids were drooping, and he was leaning into me farther than was strictly proper.

Laura made a soft sound, then got up and left us alone.

“You said you like to watch me…” I said after a few beats.

He made a humming sound in agreement and again, feeling bold, I slid my hand up his thigh and felt the evidence of this. His eyes closed and I removed my hand and raised it to his lips, for only a second, his breath came hot against my fingertips, and I moved my hand back around the short hairs on his neck.

With the music, and the noise of the other people in the room, we could have been back in the club, except for the seat beneath me. My feet were sore in that way they could only be after they've been worked all night. Feeling my feet made me fully aware of the rest of my body, every sense, every part of my mind was on and engaged, despite the glow in my head and the heavy sensation the booze left on my skin.

Laura popped her head out from her bedroom, waving me in. Jasper followed.

“I have to take a shower. Come talk to me,” she said, and as she turned to move deeper into her bedroom, toward the faint light beneath the bathroom door, she dropped the paisley robe she was wearing. Her back was all sinewy muscle, and her ass was high and perky. When I got near to her it hit me—the strong odor of her body, perfume, and a deeper musk.

She stepped into the steaming shower, and after a moment I slipped out of my clothes and followed her in. From behind the wall of steam I could see Jasper hover in the doorway a minute longer, then move closer, so he was in the light, his dark shirt contrasting against the subtle whites and tans of the tiles and wallpaper. As I worked soap down her back, inhaling the scent of
lemongrass, he examined the room, as if he were taking stock of the towels, the tiny lotion, and other bottles lined up along the sink. At one point he even leaned into read the label on one of them.

I felt for him, out of his element, wanting to stay, but unsure how to do that comfortably.

“How you doing Jasper?” Laura called, then chuckled softly so that only I could hear.

“Great…great room,” he said.

Laura and I spent the next several minutes as if he weren't there, me focusing on the front of her, picking up her large firm breasts, running a soapy hand under them, then turning her with my hands on her waist toward the water. She closed her eyes and groaned.

When the water was off, Jasper fell over himself handing out towels— first holding one out for Laura, wrapping her up like one would do for a child, then doing the same for me. I stepped behind her and took the towel and dried the area beneath her hair—now clean and lying across her scalp, she seemed to have shrunk a few inches. Jasper followed behind me, stroking my scalp, then my back, and finally the lower half of me with a towel, mirroring how I worked on Laura. He looked like he was no longer in control of himself and needed to be led, unable to move further on his own.

Laura took the towel in her hand, tossed it to the far corner of the bathroom, then took mine and did the same. I followed her to the bedroom, Jasper behind me, obedient. I reveled in the way he let me lead him. I took Laura by the shoulders and led her to the bed. A quick intake of breath from Jasper, and he began to speak, but I put my fingers over his lips, bringing a chair over to where he stood and placing it in front of him. I turned toward Laura. The chair creaked behind me as his weight settled on it.

Her look then was bright and mischievous. The noise outside the bedroom door seemed to have leveled off to a few hoots and thumps every five minutes. Jasper moved the chair in front of the door, sat, then a few minutes later turned and locked the door. As Laura and I moved on the bed, I kept my eyes on him, studying his face. At one point, he wiped at his eyes with the heel of each hand. He gave me a genuine smile, short and small, but there nonetheless.

I remained aware of Jasper by the creaks of the chair, and the sharp intakes of his breath. Laura, before me, was eager. I felt unsure how to proceed until she took my hands and guided them around her neck and crushed herself against me. Underneath the din in the other room, I made out the faint sounds of jazz playing softly from some source in the room. This better matched the way I felt, coming down from the heights of the evening, then resting into this soft pleasure. My knees, calves and feet sunk into the cool comforter, and as we moved, the sounds of skin against fabric
and the warmth of Laura's hands over my body helped me sink completely into the new setting.

She kissed me long and slow, her plump lips covering my own in a pillow of fleshy softness. She pressed her lips to mine and released the pressure, opening her mouth farther each time, encouraging me to do the same, and then she changed the rhythm, to softly peck at my closed mouth, my chin, my throat, and down to my shoulders.

A rustle sounded from Jasper's corner and I turned to see him settling on the floor at the edge of the bed, peeking up at us. Laura giggled softly and moved my attention back to her by running her lips inside the hollow of my neck and collarbone.

When her hands began to ease up my thighs, resting just short of their goal, she looked over my shoulder, watching Jasper as she worked me. I gasped, enjoying the sensations brought about by her fingers running along the outside of lips that were now swollen and heavy. A sound like a deep encouraging groan came from behind me, and she went farther, moving inside me, and I opened wider. I turned to find Jasper standing beside the bed. His tall frame blocked the soft light from the bathroom, and I couldn't see his face, but his shirt was open. I turned so I could face him, Laura's hands releasing me for an instant and she moved behind me, and took up where she left off. Jasper grazed my lips with his fingertips while Laura pressed against me and I felt her nipples harden. I ran my hand down the front of his bare chest, enjoying the feel of his slim body, loving that there were contours and ridges there. I lifted my hand up to trace his collarbone, then the swell at his shoulder, and placed my lips against the skin of his chest, and kissed his throat.

His hands went to my face brushing my hair away, and wrapped around my neck. He pulled me up to kiss him. I turned my head away, and instead took a hold of his hand and kissed the inside of his wrist. The incredible tension that mounted through the night, and the way his skin burned hot where I kissed him, made it harder to imagine kissing his lips. It was more exciting to watch them, the way he parted them, licked them with a lazy pass of his tongue, and let his mouth fall open when I ran my mouth over other parts of his torso.

Laura left the bed and padded into the bathroom. I heard a zipper and bottles tipping over, as Jasper continued to stroke my back and sides, so slowly it felt like he was testing, though I knew by his expression that we were past that. Laura slipped behind him and slid her hand into his pocket, then returned to the bed where she pulled me down on top of her. I gave her my full attention, running my hand over her face, stopping at her chin, breathing in the taste of her mouth, the orange juice, the crisp cool taste of the vodka that still lingered. Her teeth grazed my lips as I moved away,
down her chest, to her breasts, gazing up at her, enjoying the want in her eyes, flicking my tongue over her tough wrinkled nipples. She squirmed, moving closer to me. I worked one hand under her and held her there, at the lower part of her back, loving the feel of her curves. I let my other hand slide up the inside of her thigh, stroking the place where her buttocks and thighs connected, the soft secret place, like the inside of her hip, rarely displayed or given attention.

She groaned and turned sideways scooting closer to me. I moved lower, inhaling her scent, a deep smell, bringing images to mind of ancient forests, wild vines and ferns covered with dew. Behind me Jasper let out another breath and I heard the sound of his pants falling to the floor. I knew what was likely to come, and moved up to look in her eyes again, kiss her deeply. She wound her fingers through my hair, around my neck, pulling me close to her so for a moment it was just the two of us, alone in a spinning web of sensations and emotion.

After a moment we parted a few inches and I watched her, to see if she was ready. Her gaze was expectant. Slowly I moved down her body, this time arching my back with my hips in the air, offering myself for Jasper to do as he wished. The air was cool against my thighs, contrasting with the warmth where Laura lay.

I dipped my face into the small mound of curls. I lay my hand across the lower part of her stomach and pulled the skin up and stroked her there as I dipped my tongue into her, searching for the hard nub I knew I would find.