Fix It for Us (8 page)

As I come back up to stand I feel very dizzy and lurch a bit.  What’s wrong with me?  I feel weird.  Davis reaches
up to grab my hips and steady me. “Whoa, Lizard… You okay?” 

Okay, that wasn’t so seductive, but I play it off with a laugh, “Hey, no touching the present without permission.”
  I playfully slap his hand.

Davis
’ groans become almost painful, “You are wrecking me over here … please, baby.”

“Well, since you are begging so nicely…” and then right on cue the music changes to Cherry Pie by Warrant and I go into my novice version of a lap dance, “you can play with your present now.”

I really have no idea what I am doing.  I’ve never been to a strip club and only seen it in the movies and music videos, but Davis doesn’t seem to be bothered (or maybe he is…) by my inexperience.  I straddle first one of his thighs and then the other, grinding with all my might.  I have to say, it’s not like I’m not getting anything out of this either.  I have to force myself to stop and slide down his thigh to the floor and then spin around to pop up and grind my backside into his deliciously hardened cock.  I can feeling his heavy exhalations on my back.  His mere breath makes my nipples pucker.  When he tries to pull me closer, I slap his hands away lightly again. 
              “Wait, you said I could play!”  he protests.

“Sorry, I forgot I said that, I was getting into the part.”  I laugh so deeply, I barely recognize my voice.

Pulling my hair to the side and running the back of his index finger down my neck, Davis rasps up into my ear, “I can already tell you the reviews are going to be excellent.”  With that he grabs my hips and twists me violently to face him, his mouth on my stomach, sucking and licking.  His tongue dives into my belly button.   I am straddling his thighs now and rotating against the strain in his pants.  It feels delicious, but I want more.  As if he read my mind, Davis divests me of my cute little bra and with one hand on my back pulls my breast toward his mouth. I pull him closer, raking my fingers through his thick, silky hair. He nips and bites at my nipple, eventually taking the whole thing in and sucking ruthlessly.  His other hand is on my hip, encouraging me to thrust and rotate into him.  I want to feel more of him and bring my hands down to undo and remove his tuxedo shirt.  I push it off his shoulders and then run my hands back up and then straight down his smooth, hard chest.  I stop just above the button of his pants.

Panting, I ask, “Do you mind if I rip open this part?”

I hear a deep chuckle and feel him shake his head, his mouth still on my body.  He stands slightly and somehow I manage to get rid of his tux pants and black boxers.  My panties still on, I slide my aching core over his rigid erection.  This is becoming unbearable.  I need him NOW.  Davis is already on it, tearing the panties down my legs, miraculously pulling them over my high-heeled shoes without dislodging them.  Before I can push my nakedness down on him, he cups me and slides a finger across my hard, slick clit, stroking me leisurely.  I shudder and push into his hand.

“
Mmmm … Best. Present. Ever.  But better now that it’s unwrapped,” Davis scorches into my ear.

I am so pleased and turned on. 
I tease, “I’m so glad you like it.  You’re very HARD to shop for.”

“It’s perfect”
Davis says, scanning my entire body, stopping at few places to touch and admire.  As he pushes into me and looks down at where our bodies come together, he adds, “Just what I wanted.”  I moan with joy.  He feels so good inside of me and I can feel the waves overtaking me as I ride him.  I push up and then plunge back down.  I am still wearing my black stilettos and my wig and I feel so naughty and sexy for him.  Davis becomes almost frantic with his thrusting, directing my hips and pounding into me.  I know he is about to come and I want to do it with him.  Shivering, I know I am close, I whisper with the little I have left, “Ha…Happy Birthday, baby.  I’m gonna come for you.”  The words send us both over the edge – loudly.

***

I hear voices, not close, in the distance.  A man’s – okay that’s Davis, and a woman’s voice, oh, I think its Kathleen, and then another man’s voice.  That’s right, Smitty.  Smitty and Kathleen didn’t come home last night.  They must be here now.  I really should get up and say “hi.”  Why am I so lethargic?  I can generally bounce out of bed no problem.  I did dance a lot last night, at HeartSmash
and
in the condo.  I probably just overexerted myself.  I can just make out Kathleen say, “Okay, well, tell Biz goodbye from us.  I’ll see you soon.  I’ll let you know what happens with the interview.”  Then I hear a door close.

“Lizard?  Lizard Baby, wake up, you are sleeping the day away.
”  Davis is whispering in my ear.

I didn’t drink last night, but I feel completely fatigued and barely able to move.
  My throat feels dry.  I have a bit of a headache.  I ask, “Did I just hear Kathleen leave?  I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye.”

“Baby, she left
two hours ago.  You must have woken up briefly and then gone back to sleep.” He informs me.

“Two hours, whoa, that felt l
ike two minutes.”

Davis sits next to me and strokes my face and and hair.  He tells me I look tired.  He
’s got that right.  He lets me know he is running over to campus to check on the project his class is working on.  He told them he’d be in briefly to answer any questions.  Sunday is a big day for students to get assignments done in the theatre’s tech lab.  Davis encourages me to stay in bed and take it easy.  I tell him I want to come with him. 

Davis protests, “Biz, you look beat.  Just rest.”

“I’ll make a compromise with you.  I need to get my script and I left it in my room.  While you are at the lab, I can go to my room and lie down for a bit and study my lines.”

Rele
nting, he agrees, “But when we’re through, we are coming back here for the night, okay?”

“Deal.”

***

             
Davis drops me off in the front of Lawrence.  I am more fried than I thought, so I take the disco elevator up to my room on the fifth floor.  Standing alone inside of it, I recall events from only a few months ago – all of them involving Davis.  “Drunk, but not really drunk – only faking to spend time with me Davis” and “coming to my rescue Davis.”  I push down the thoughts of Jake Gianni that creep in.  When the door opens on the second floor, I am unhappily met with the face of Suzette.  She is my fellow RA and the girl Jake cheated on me with.

She sniffs, walks in and says, “Jesus, Biz, you look like crap.” 

Bitch.

“Everything okay with Davis?
”  She does not ask this to inquire into my well-being or that of my relationship.  She is being sarcastic. Oh, yeah and did I say a bitch?

I don’t even want to acknowledge her, but I just can’t help it.  I force a smile and turning my head slightly look her right in the eyes, “We are great.  Thank you so much for asking.  It’s so nice to be in a relationship that isn’t based on lies.”  The door opens to the fifth floor and I walk out before she can say a
word.  I don’t look at her, but hear a little “cheep” of protest before the doors close.  That felt great.  It also took all the energy I had and reminds me, Davis and I
are
keeping a secret about getting engaged.  That’s sort of lying.  Then there is
my
lie – to everyone and my own brain – Randall.

Finally reaching my room, I let myself in, grab my script off the desk, drop my purse and jacket on the floor and kick off my shoes.  I don’t bother to undress further.  It takes everything I
have to pull myself up into my loft bed and climb under the covers.  I open the script to the first page and try to focus, but the words dance on the page.  Well, obviously, I am too tired to read.  I decide to take a short nap.  I curl up like a cocktail shrimp and sigh to myself – why am I so tired and sore?  I begin to shiver and pull the covers up to my neck.  So, not just a cocktail shrimp, more like a cocktail shrimp on a bed of ice. 

***

Jesus, what is all that racket?  What’s with all the ringing and knocking and loud noises? My head is pounding. I am so tired and when I try to move it just hurts …

“BIZ, Wake up!” 

Holy shit, who is here? Who is in my room?  It sounds like … it sounds like … I am shaking all over. I think I am going to cry. 

“Open your eyes, Biz.  Wake up.”

I turn my head toward the voice, but I am scared.  Scared to open my eyes.  Scared of who is there.  It sounds like … Randall.  I feel a hand on my shoulder as I start to turn over.  I open my eyes…Oh My God!  It is Randall.  Right in front of me.  He doesn’t have his usual creepy grin.  He is looking at me with concern.  Over his shoulder I see Neil, too.  He isn’t saying anything, just looking at me like I’m crazy.  What are they doing in my room?  As much as it hurts to move – I am sore all over – I scramble back away from them as quickly as I can, slamming my back against the wall and pulling the covers with me. I close my eyes and slap at Randall’s hands and toward his face.  I will not let him touch me again.  I am enfolded in terror.  This is worse than a panic attack.  I close my eyes and keep batting at them while counting to five silently.

Randall’s voice gets louder,  “BIZ … LIZARD … STOP!  Lizard Baby, Stop! What’s wrong?”

Eyes still closed, I scream as loudly as I can, “GET OUT, GET AWAY FROM ME!”

“Lizard?  Jules, what’s wrong?”  Randall says.  Randall?  Why is he talking to Jules?  Why
is he calling me Lizard?  Then I hear Jules answer him, but can’t make out what she is saying.  Jules!  She should run away.  Get away from them, Jules!  Petrified of what I’ll see, but worried for my friend,  I stop hitting the air and very slowly open one eye and then the other.  Everything is blurry and wobbly, but Randall is nowhere to be seen.  Only Davis with a very confused look on his face and Jules behind him with her hand on his shoulder.  They are both looking down at me as if I were some kind of organism under a microscope.

Very softly Davis whispers, “Liz
ard?”  I shake my head to clear my thoughts.  Neil and Randall were just here.  I’m sure of it.  But now, Davis is here? With Jules.  Did they scare them away?  I start crying and lunge forward throwing my arms around Davis’ neck, the only thing I can manage to say is, “Mav…”  Jules reaches forward and rubs my arm.  I can’t stop crying, heaving really.  I am so shaky.

Jules tells Davis, “She has a fever.  I think she must have been hallucinating something scary.”  I wish I could tell
Jules, ‘Yes, there
was
something scary, it was Randall and Neil.  They were going to hurt me, but you scared them off,’ but no more words will come, only more tears.  I can’t stop my body from shaking.

“She’s sick.  Really sick, Jules.  What do I do?” Davis sounds concerned.  Are they talking about me?  I’m sick?  I w
as just napping and then Randall and Neil came in, or did they?  Maybe
that’s
why I am so exhausted and shivering.  I’m sick.

I hear Jules tell Davis that I need to go to the Health Clinic and that it has Sunday hours but only for about another 30 minutes.  Then I hear and see Charlie in the room talking to Jules and Davis.  He is smiling at me with a tight smile and lines between his eyebrows.  I must really be sick.
  Davis hands Charlie something and then comes over to me and leans over my bed.  My hair is all wet and so are my clothes. Soaked. I am so confused.

“Baby… you’re really sick.  I am going to take you to the clinic.” Davis says soothingly.

“Thank you,” I breathe out.  “And thank you for getting rid of them.  Neil and Randall.”

Davis looks at me and shakes his head, “Randall?
And Neil? Lizard baby, they weren’t … aren’t here. Only us.”  He indicates himself, Jules and Charlie.  I just shake my head and cry.  He doesn’t say anything more to me, just scoops me out of bed and places my arms around his shoulders.  I ache all over and can barely hold on.  My head drops to his chest.

Davis barks at Charlie and Jules
, “I’ll meet you at the clinic.  Grab her stuff and bring my car over there.”

I am being transported
in Davis’ arms, but am a passive participant. Is he carrying me through campus to the clinic? I only have enough energy to open my eyes and see Davis’ black waffley textured thermal shirt in front of me.  It rubs against my cheek as he walks.  Then I feel myself being lowered down onto something firm.  Blankets are being lifted over me and then settle on me.  It feels so warm.  My shaking begins to slow.  Davis is standing above me, looking down at me.  He is stroking my hair.  It must feel gross, it’s so wet.  I should tell him to stop – it’s really gross, but his hand feels so good – and I start to cry again.  Why am I crying so much?

“You are so hot.”  He says.

I work to smile.  How can he think I’m hot?  I’m so disgusting right now.  Oh, he means like literally HOT.  I don’t know how I do it, but I manage to say, between forced smiles, “Yes, but not in a good way.” 

Davis’ face bursts into a large grin and
he lets out a sob/laugh.  And then huge tears begin falling from his eyes.  “I can’t believe you are making a joke.  You are so sick and you are making a joke.  My brave little dragon.”  His hand is on the side of my face and I push my cheek into it, while holding his wet, reddened, beautiful green gaze with mine.