An Illicit Pursuit (4 page)

His words catch me off-guard. His voice is
dangerously arousing, threatening to take my mind away from the
road. Zach never speaks like that about my songs. He listens to my
music, supports me, and everything, but has never shown such
profound enthusiasm about it. To him, it’s a transition, a hobby I
busy myself with until we get married and take over the usual
household chores of a housewife.

“So, yes, I’ll pursue you,” Adam adds.
“Nothing is written in stone, right? And it’s not like you’re
married with kids.”

I work hard to focus on the road, struggling,
though, because I feel Adam’s eyes grazing over me. His
intoxicatingly manly scent doesn’t help either. I wonder about what
is going through his mind. But, for the moment, I’m glad he can’t
read mine, or he’ll think of me as the ultimate slut for dreaming
about launching myself over his lap, ripping off his clothes until
he’s completely naked, and letting him take me like no one ever
has.

The time during the audition flies in a haze.
Despite my initial nerves at meeting Harvey Duke, a wildly famous
producer, I put on my guitar and pour my heart out through three of
my self-composed songs. He and his two assistants listen to me with
their mouths wide open. It’s the same reaction I get from everyone
when I sing live, and I’m glad Harvey Duke feels the same.

“You’ll definitely hear from us.” The
producer shakes my hand at the end, making sure his assistant got
my name and cell number correctly. “Corey Diamond will be here
sometime next week. My assistant will set up a meeting for you to
meet him. Make sure to be around for a short-notice meeting.”

“Oh, my God,” I whisper, covering my cheeks
with my hands, after we leave the studio. Is this really happening?
Despite everyone’s initial excitement for my music, I’d never had
the chance to perform in front of a big name, like Harvey Duke, who
could help me become someone in the music industry. I
unsuccessfully tried it in Nashville, the heart of the music
industry. It only took a complete stranger in Los Angeles to show
interest in my talent to get a ten-minute audition to prove my
talent. Isn’t life full of ironies?

Barely containing my exhilaration, I jump up
and down and throw myself into Adam’s arms. “I can’t believe what
just happened. Have I just dreamed everything?” I scream at his
ear.

He slides his arms around my waist, lifting
my feet off the ground, and spins me around. My head twirls in all
directions, and I keep on shouting out my joy.

Only when Adam puts me back on my feet do I
stop shouting. He continues holding me close to his chest until I’m
stable. “Nothing is official yet, but I’m sure you’ll get a deal by
the end of next week.”

“Thank you. If this works out fine, I’ll
dedicate an entire album to you.” I run my fingers through my hair
to push the strands away from my face.

“Wow, what can I say to that?”

“Say nothing and take me out on that date you
were so eager for.”

His eyes flash, but he doesn’t say a word,
instead, links his fingers with mine and walks me to the car. I
turn the car key and ask him the address where he wants to take
me.

He types it on the navigator and eyes me, “I
hope you’re hungry and like sausages.”

Depends on the type of the sausage!
Slutty me is on the run again. “Yes to both.”

We drive to downtown, and I pull up in front
of a building that looks more like a factory than a restaurant.
Actually, most of the buildings around remind me of factories, and
I spot several wall paintings.

Adam grabs my hand so naturally, as if we’ve
been together for long. “Let’s eat first, then we’ll walk around to
check out the street murals.” I follow his lead into a small
bistro. It’s a sausage bistro, all right. Dozens of sausages with
different colors are on display in a small glass counter. I choose
lamb with Mediterranean spices, while he orders duck and bacon with
jalapeno peppers and an order of Belgium fries, alongside with two
German beers for us.

“Try mine first. If you like it I’ll ask for
a second order.” He hands me his sandwich. I take a bite, enjoying
both his staring at me and the flavors of sausage in my mouth, and
chew thoroughly before I answer. I’m sure his lips taste better
than the sandwich, but I’d better keep that observation to
myself.

“It’s okay,” I say with a grin.

“Just okay?”

“Well, better than okay, but you don’t need
to order another one. I’ll eat mine.”

“You can have yours and mine, too. No big
deal.” He grins with an added effect. Is he insinuating something?
I don’t get it.

“Let’s share then.” I take another bite from
his sandwich and hand it back to him. Taking a sip from the cold,
bitter beer, I survey his long fingers wrapping possessively around
the sandwich bread, wondering how much pleasure they could give me
in bed. I should just stop thinking and eat.

“You see something you like?” He arches an
eyebrow and captivates my eyes again.

What’s not to like?
“The food is
delicious. Thanks for taking me here.”

“The pleasure is mine.”

“So, tell me about your girls. I mean your
sisters, not your girls, of course.”

He chuckles and grabs a bite, chewing ever so
slowly, perhaps thinking through how he should get away from
answering my question. “As you can imagine, they’re a nightmare
come true. It doesn’t help that I’m the second oldest of five. All
the boyfriend issues, non-stop phone calls, and texting, and
shopping sprees are driving me nuts on a daily basis.”

“Do they bother you even when you’re at the
dorm?” I try my sandwich, glad about picking it over the duck and
bacon.

“I still live with my parents over in Beverly
Hills. About twelve miles away from UCLA, but it’s manageable.”

“Have you considered moving out?”

“No, not anytime soon.”

“Are you afraid of living alone and not
having your mama doing your laundry for you?” I grin.

“I do my own laundry. The reason is something
else. My mother was diagnosed with cancer a few years ago and had a
surgery recently. Still, the doctors aren’t very hopeful about the
number of years she has left. So, we all try to spend as much time
with her as possible.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope she’ll have
many more decades, although that’ll mean you will never get a
chance share your bed with a girl who likes to scream.”

He laughs, covering his mouth. “You’re
forgetting about the loud music as a solution to cover up.”

“Yeah, but they’ll know what you’re doing
behind the closed doors every time you turn up the stereo. It’s
downright creepy.”

“How about you? Any over-protective brother I
need to worry about?” he asks.

How about an over-protective
boyfriend?
“No brothers. Only two half-sisters. My parents
divorced when I was five and had shared custody of me. It was okay
in the beginning, but when they re-married and each had a new kid
with their new spouses, I became an outcast. I couldn’t wait for my
high school graduation to get out of their lives.”

“Where do they live?”

“In Colorado. But I live in Nashville,
Tennessee, you know, for my music career.”

His face hardens with the news. He sips his
beer, without breaking the eye contact with me. “How long are you
staying in LA?”

“Two months, until the movie premiere.”

“Then, we really need to get you to sign that
contract so you can stay here longer.”

“Yeah, right. The contract.” I remember the
thrill of the audition earlier on. Will I really sign a contract
with Diamond Records? I’m so nervous about it that I won’t say
anything to anyone, except for Zach, until I secure the deal, or
maybe until after the record is ready and out on the market.

We finish eating and bring our trays to the
counter. Adam holds my hand, squeezing it tightly, as we go out and
stroll through the streets to see the wall paintings. He takes
pictures of me alone and us together with his cell phone after
promising me he won’t show them to anyone or put them on the
internet. The last thing I need is Zach finding out about my secret
date from Facebook.

“They’re just for my own enjoyment.” He
winks, his voice layered with tenderness and concern. “When can I
see you again?”

I blow out a long sigh, showing every bit of
the frustration I carry inside me. There wouldn’t be any problem at
all if I didn’t want to see him, but I do. I want to spend more
time with him and get to know him. Inside and outside. Emotionally
and physically. “How about I text you when I’m available?”

“Sounds good but don’t take too long.”

Looking down at our tangled hands, I can’t
help but feel depressed. “I won’t.” Shoot, I already know I want to
see him again before the weekend.

He pulls my hand and grabs me by the waist. I
run my hands over his biceps, evaluating the tight muscles under
his shirt. Leaning in slightly, he closes his eyes, and inhales
deeply, making my heart go crazy, and moves his lips alongside
mine, without making any contact. Then, he snaps his eyes open and
gazes at me. I’m too timid to stare at his eyes for long for the
fear of losing myself in them, so I just content myself with
focusing on his lips with occasional glances at those lustful
eyes.

“I want to kiss you so badly,” he says, “But
I can’t, knowing my kiss will be erased from your lips when you’re
back with your boyfriend. I’m well aware of the fact that I don’t
have any right to tell you to dump him so soon. But, make no
mistake, that day will come. And I want you to think about how I’ll
suck, lick, and bite your lips until they bruise when you’re done
with him.”

What a tease! I don’t know whether it is his
words, the way his eyes appraise my lips, how he holds me tightly
in his arms, or his penis hardening beneath his slacks against my
belly that is the reason for my legs to go shaky. I shudder and
shiver, as if I had a fervent orgasm. I dare myself to stare into
his intense gaze this time, even though it won’t help me much with
my shaky legs, and I see the truthfulness of his words. The desire
and lust are brewing in those hazel depths, and I can only imagine
what else he’ll do to me when that day he mentioned comes.

He loosens his grip and releases me. Unable
to pull myself together, I stumble and nearly fall on my butt, but
he holds me up and slips an arm around my waist as we walk to my
car. I can’t bring myself to say a word, and from the silence
that’s persisting between us, neither can he. I drop him at the
parking lot of UCLA and drive back home.

I smell Adam’s scent everywhere. In the car,
in the elevator, at Zach’s home. I sniff my dress, it’s his scent
again. I strip down, throw the dress into the laundry basket, and
step into the shower. I feel a strong urge to sniff myself for the
last time, before the water and soap takes it away from me. I hear
the front door. Must be Zach. He may surprise me in the shower, and
before I know it, he’ll smell
Adam’s scent on me. Quickly, I
turn on the hot water, soap my body, and shampoo my hair.

When Zach knocks on the bathroom door, I’m
already wrapped up in my bathrobe, smelling of soap and shampoo.
Not a trace of Adam is left on me. My heart is pounding hard with
the fear that Zach will sense it, anyway. He’ll figure out my lie
and hate me forever.

I open the door slowly. All I can offer Zach
is a tight-lipped smile. I’m lacking acting talent, or, better name
it, lying talent.

“How was your day?” Zach asks after kissing
my lips.

He has to ask about it directly. What am I
going to say? “Good. It was good.” I walk past him and sit on the
bed in Zach’s bedroom, drying my hair with a small towel.

He takes off his jacket and his shirt and
sits next to me. “It’s very hot. I’ll grab a shower, too.”

I trace the stains on the carpet with my eyes
to avoid his gaze while he frees himself from his clothes. One look
in my eyes and he’ll know it.

While he’s in the shower, I quickly change
into a t-shirt and sweatpants and go to the kitchen to cook dinner.
Zach is sharing the apartment with another student, Michael, who’s
never at home. Which is great for Zach and me to be alone and do
whatever we want. But now, I wish he was here to distract Zach and
give me some time to compose myself.

I boil elbow noodles and get the cheese sauce
ready, although there are four boxes of Kraft’s macaroni and cheese
sitting in the pantry. Must be the guilt that makes me want to cook
a nice, homemade meal from scratch for Zach and not some
industrially produced food. Besides, focusing on something other
than what I did today helps me relax.

Zach comes to me, dried and in fresh clothes,
smelling like the shower I was in a few minutes ago. “Smells
delicious,” he says and opens the lid of the pan with the cheese
sauce.

I start chopping tomatoes and onion for
salad, careful not to chop a finger along the way, because my hands
are shaking.

Zach brushes my cheek with his index finger.
“Are you okay, baby?”

“I’m fine.” I force another fake smile. I’m
not made for lying to someone I love. How can people cheat on their
spouses for years and years?

I feel his questioning gaze on me, and I slow
down the chopping or I’ll end up with a finger less in addition to
losing my boyfriend.

“You’re lying,” he says, making me freeze and
sending my heart trumpeting. “Are you mad at me? Is it because I
didn’t go with you today?” Sliding his arm around my waist, he
pulls me against his chest. Now I can’t avoid his gaze. “I knew I
should have gone with you,” he continues. “You come first in
everything in my life. All those courses are meaningless for me. I
take those classes so that I can give you the life you deserve, buy
you the house you want, a car, beautiful clothes, sexy lingerie.”
He ducks his head down to brush his lips against mine. I close my
eyes and let his soft lips take me over with a gentle kiss. Not
all-consuming, no bruising like Adam’s kiss would be but full of
love and comforting. Zach pulls back, grinning. “Okay, the sexy
lingerie is actually for my benefit. Come here, I’ve got something
to show you.”