An Illicit Pursuit (3 page)

I don’t even pretend to be upset at him for
arriving thirty five minutes late and exposing me to the highest
heat of the midday. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”

He doesn’t make any effort to apologize or at
least explain why he was late. Tugging me under his shoulder, he
gives me a peck on the lips. If only he knew what his tardiness
cost him.

Yeah, Zach will have to pay for taking me for
granted.

I keep my phone in my hand throughout the
evening, even while in the bathroom. When I’m about to give up on
Adam’s call, the phone buzzes in my sweaty palm. Startled, I jump
to my feet and stride to the bedroom to get some privacy, glancing
back at Zach before I close the door behind me. He’s deep into his
Mario and the Princess Peach game.

“Hello Pat. I’m Adam from earlier today.”

“Hey,” I say, my voice trembling with the
fear of the possibility of being caught by Zach and the thrill that
Adam is actually calling me.

“I hope I’m not interrupting you in the
middle of something.”

I hear music in the background and some girl
giggles, too.

“Actually, yes.”

“Oh, in that case, I’ll make it quick. Can I
take you to lunch tomorrow?”

I try to remember Zach’s class schedule for
tomorrow. He has it from ten ’til three full, if my memory isn’t
fooling me just so I’ll say ‘yes’ to Adam. “Yes, sure.”

Suddenly, the door opens and Zach appears at
the doorway, his face hardened and questioning. Shoot! Was it too
suspicious of me hiding in here? I place my index finger on my lips
to stop him from speaking and turn my back to him. I can’t believe
I’m actually worrying about Adam finding out about Zach and not the
other way around.

“Is eleven thirty all right?” Adam asks, a
little louder than I’d wish for. Must be due to the background
music where he is, but Zach may hear him. “I’ll meet you at the
same place we met.”

“Sounds great. I’ll be there.” I hear a click
and the line goes dead. I stare down at the phone, swallowing hard
before facing Zach.

“Who was it?” Zach asks as soon as our eyes
meet.

“Some guy from the movie. They want me to
come by tomorrow noon for the last tidbits.”

“Oh, shit. I can’t go with you. I have the
afternoon full.” His face relaxes; his voice is apologetic.

I walk past him and take my seat back on the
couch. “I’ll go by myself.”

“Are you mad? ’Cause if you want, I’ll ditch
all my classes.”

“Absolutely not. You’ll probably get bored
there anyway. Remember the last time?”

He settles on the couch next to me, reaching
out, and tucks me into his side. “I don’t mind getting bored as
long as I’m with you, baby.”

“I know.” I stare at his lips because the
guilt cursing through me won’t allow me to look at his eyes.

He dips his head and captures my lips,
running his fingers through my hair to position me better against
his lips as his tongue parts mine. Soon, our tongues tangle
together and he pulls me over to his lap, my legs astride his
hips.

Heat flames between my legs. Good. I needed
to just sit on his lap to be reminded of my love for Zach. I love
him, and I desire him even more. I press my lips harder on his, run
my hands over his chest, and start rocking back and forth against
his cock, which is growing beneath our jeans.

He breaks the kiss and gazes down at me with
his mouth slightly open. “Baby, are you upset about something?”

How can he know me so well? “Yes, I actually
am. You came late to pick me up for lunch.”

“Oh, that. I’m sorry. There was a long line
at the library check-out.”

“Whatever.” I launch my lips back on his,
sucking his lower lip, and move my hands down to the waistband of
his jeans. He growls into my mouth as I unbutton and unzip his
jeans. The friction between us through our clothes is enough to
turn the heat between my thighs into fire.

“Michael can come any minute,” he murmurs
between our kisses. I couldn’t care less about getting caught by
his roommate. Ignoring his words, I move aside to pull down his
jeans and boxer briefs and palm his hard-on. He’s got it as bad.
“Shit.” He throws his head back on the couch and pushes his hips up
to grind his cock into my hand.

I slip down to my knees on the floor between
his legs and stick my tongue out to taste him. He’s watching me
cautiously, his breathing short and heavy.

“Keep me waiting once more, and this will be
the last time you’ll have this,” I say and slide his cock between
my lips.

He groans loudly when I tease its head with
my tongue. “Baby, it feels amazing.”

Rubbing my palm up and down along his shaft
and the other one all over his balls, I suck the top with ferocious
hunger, twisting and rolling my tongue around it.

“Fuck, slow down or I’m gonna come.”

I release him from my mouth but keep on
massaging his shaft. He swiftly lifts me up, wraps my legs around
his hips, and carries me to the bedroom in a flash.

“Hurry,” I whimper as he throws me over to
the bed. His eyes are locked on mine, burning with the familiar
lust and desire I’m so accustomed to. Without breaking eye contact,
he reaches over to the nightstand and takes a foil packet from the
drawer. As he tears the package apart and rolls the rubber over his
cock, I pull my pants down and take off my t-shirt, then my panties
and bra.

When he’s done clothing his cock with the
condom, he crawls over me, spreading my legs apart with his knees,
and thrusts into me. Throwing my head back onto the bed, I gasp and
moan at the sudden ignition of the burning flame inside me.

“I should get you upset more often.” He pulls
out his cock all the way and thrusts into me one more time. Mad at
his teasing, even madder at him for making me so wild with his
cock, I wrap my legs around him and squeeze tightly until he
screams with pain. “My mad, mad Patty.” He pumps faster and harder
into me, his fingertips digging into my flesh.

I bite my lips to repress the scream that
wants to escape from my throat as the pleasure builds up to an
unbearable level. “Zach,” I murmur between my short breaths.

“What is it?” He’s breathless as I am.

“I’m gonna…”

“I know.” He thrusts into me with harder
strokes two more times before releasing in me, making me explode at
the same time.

He kisses the top of my head and rolls down
beside me. Looking at the perfect peace in his face, I decide I
won’t meet Adam. What I have with Zach is too beautiful to risk for
a complete stranger. As sexy as that stranger might be.

The next morning, I cook breakfast while Zach
prepares for his classes. I’m struggling to find a valid excuse to
cancel my date with Adam. And somehow, a simple ‘Sorry I got your
hopes up, but I have a boyfriend’ doesn’t seem appropriate. Why did
I give him my number to start with?

It’s wrong. The Hollywood movie, this entire
moving-here-moving-there thing to get my name out there, my
disastrous attempts to become a nation-wide success in music is all
wrong. I should just give it up while I can and enroll in a music
college and do something tangible with my talent. At least, I can
get a degree and have a career as a music teacher. I’ll still be
doing what I love and live a stable life with Zach. Why do I even
try this shitty road as a struggling artist, when the music
industry is already saturated with a lot of talented people? I
can’t even put together a darn song since the movie, as if I knew
deep down how crappy the movie was, and my subconscious is trying
to spare me a huge disappointment for insisting on the
impossible.

I inhale deeply, trying to smooth away the
disturbing thoughts, and place the omelet on a large plate.

Zach comes and kisses the top of my head,
grabbing two forks and napkins, and settles beside me at the table.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I can handle it by
myself.”

“I can come and pick you up.” He won’t give
up.

I shake my head and dig into my breakfast.
When he leaves, I set about drying and shaping my wild curls. My
cell beeps with a message.
Please God, make Adam cancel the date
so I don’t need to come up with a lie!

It’s from Adam.
“A friend of mine knows
someone at Diamond Records and arranged an audition for you for
today at 12. If you’re interested, I can drive you up there, and we
can have our date afterwards.”

Oh, my dear God, what? I re-read the message
three more times, unable to believe the turn of events. What if he
sensed my hesitation and now is trying to make his dating offer
irresistible?

My reply:
Sounds kind of risky, don’t you
think? How can I be sure you’re not some maniac lusting after
abducting innocent girls?

Adam:
“:) You have a point there.
Sometimes, you have to take a risk to have the greatest happiness.
And don’t worry, I’m far from a maniac. I’m a lame engineering
senior. Meeting you was the most interesting thing I’ve experienced
this year.”

Take a risk to have the greatest happiness?
As if he knows the turbulence I’m going through, trying to decide
what to do with my career.

Me:
“Sounds very maniacal to me.”

Adam:
“Here, take a look at this innocent
face of mine in a family picture. Be warned, all those girls are my
sisters. Yuck!”

I tab on the next message, and a picture of a
large family fills the tiny screen of my phone. He’s wrapped up
among four girls at various ages, and an elderly couple, whom I
guess are his parents, is sitting in front of them.

Me:
“All the more reason to become a
maniac. I wouldn’t be able to cope with so many girls in one place,
and I’m a girl.”

Adam:
“I won’t be able to convince you,
will I? What if I let you ride in my BMW? It drives fast. Too
fast.”

Me:
“Are you actually trying to convince
me NOT to come with you? I hate fast cars. We’ll take my
Toyota.”

Adam:
“Is that a yes? I’ll be waiting for
you at 11:30 in front of the Citibank at Westwood Ave.”

Me:
“OK. Don’t be late.”

Adam:
“Never!”

I find myself smiling goofily at my
reflection in the mirror. I’m really going on a date with him. Yet,
for some reason, the audition opportunity doesn’t elicit as big
thrill in me as the possibility of me wrapping my arms around him,
just like his sisters in the picture. I’m a disgusting piece of
shit.

I find the text with his picture and zoom in
to study his face. Two things catch me by surprise. He’s as
handsome as I remember, and my hands shake uncontrollably.

An hour later, I pick him at the spot he
mentioned in his last message. At exactly eleven thirty. He’s
wearing a white shirt with sleeves rolled up, showcasing the firm
muscles of his forearms, and navy, linen slacks. He looks both
classic and casual. He reaches out and gives me an awkward kiss on
the cheek. I try not to shiver and occupy myself with putting on
the CD of the song I sang for the movie.

He opens his eyes wide and looks at me with
admiration and appreciation. “Your voice is amazing. Did you write
the song?”

“Yeah.”

He turns the volume louder and soon sings
along with the chorus. I eye him from the corner of my eye, while
taking care not to pay too much attention to how his full lips
shape and stretch as he sings along.

“You don’t have a scratchy voice, yourself,”
I point out to save myself from his intense gaze when our eyes
meet.

“No, but I’m happy being an engineer. How is
it over at the music department? I hear you have to be able to sing
old classics in Italian and German to get admitted.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m not actually enrolled
at UCLA. I’m just visiting a friend.”

He frowns for a moment, without saying a
word, and then starts watching the road. Did he arrange the
audition for me, thinking of me as a UCLA student rather than a
struggling artist? How about our date? Maybe he exclusively dates
girls from ivy-league colleges.

I turn down the volume, when the silence
between us becomes too disturbing to bear. “Is there a problem with
me not studying at UCLA?”

He glances at me with those intense hazel
eyes. “No, not at all.”

I want to slap him for getting me all up and
excited, causing me to lose interest in my boyfriend, and then
dismissing me because I didn’t turn out to be what he was expecting
me to be. “Then, what is this silence about?”

“I was wondering whether it’s worth it.”

“What is worth it?”

“Pursuing a girl who’s already taken.”

How does he know? I’m an open book not only
for Zach but also for a total stranger. Just great. “I don’t
understand.” I can always play dumb, right?

“You said you were visiting a friend, and I’m
almost sure it’s your boyfriend.”

I swallow hard, keeping my eyes focused on
the road to keep him from reading my face. “What makes you think
that?” He probably suspected it from the phone call last night.

“Because you’re too pretty to be single.”

I snort, because I wasn’t expecting a
compliment, much less such a nice one. “So, did you decide whether
it’s worth it?”

“Pretty girls are plentiful, but pretty girls
with a special talent like yours are rare gems.”

“You wanna date me because of my voice?”

“It’s not just your voice. Last night I
googled your name and downloaded some of your songs. They are all
amazing. The emotions you convey in those songs are both disturbing
and freeing. You don’t waste time with nonsense in your songs. With
them, you just pierced your fingers into my chest and squeezed my
heart into embracing life tightly. I may have gotten it totally
wrong, but an artist who can elicit such emotions has my utmost
respect. I’m fascinated by that part of who you are and anxious to
discover the rest of you.”