Live Love Rewind: The Three Lives of Leah Preston (13 page)

A window filled almost all of one wall. Moonlight bathed her body, letting her enjoy the sight of the beautiful silk kimono covering her. She felt the fabric caress her skin as she rose from the mattress. Going to the glass rectangle in front of her, she looked out at the world.

“This is so beautiful,” she said, lightly pressed her fingers against the windowpane. Hundreds of feet below, black waves lapped at an empty beach. A full moon hovered overhead, creating such a striking scene that she imagined she’d seen it before.

But I
have
seen it before,
she thought.

It was early on, when I was still writing articles, back when magazines were a decent avenue for free-lancers. This looks just like the photograph they used for my story about the South China Sea.

But this isn’t a photograph. It’s real.

Suddenly, she sensed someone was entering the room behind her. Cautiously, she checked over her shoulder. 

Ian Parkins filled the opening to her bedroom door, dressed as if he was in class. Reaching for his brown tie, he pulled it from his collar.

“Professor,” Leah said, surprised.

He unbuttoned his white shirt, telling her, “Fraternization between teachers and students isn’t allowed.”

His shirt opened, revealing a slim but powerful chest. His well-defined abdominal muscles rode above the belt on his pants. He pulled the belt from his waist, letting his pants fall to the floor.

“If you need help tonight,” he said, naked and walking toward her, “you’ll need to let me know.”

“Ian?”

He drew closer and the outside light played over his cock. Erect and ready, its purple head bobbed eagerly as he walked.

“What are you doing?”

Gathering her in his arms, he lowered them both to the bed. His breath felt warm as his lips whispered beside her ear. “You really should see me in my office.”

“We can’t,” she said, then moaned as he knelt between her legs. She spread herself and he reached around her, clasping her buttocks with his hands. He brought her into his hungry mouth and she felt his tongue teasing and playing, demanding she give him what he wanted.

Crying out, she woke up.

Chapter Six

When have I ever had a dream that vivid?
Leah wondered as she dressed the next morning.
Or that dirty?

Do you think that’s why Astrid has read this book, over and over/ Why she’s practically memorized the entire thing?

Well, if so, she’s welcome to it. All it’s done is to leave me horny. Eager to play without any real man in sight.

The doorbell rang. Checking herself in the side mirror and deciding she looked a mess but not a monster, she went to answer the door.

“Morning, sunshine,” Astrid said. She was dressed in tight blue jeans and a cute, pink t-shirt.

“Don’t talk to me, you…you porn collector,” Leah told her.

Astrid smiled brightly. “Those drawings are something, aren’t they?”

She followed her friend into the house. Leah left to collect the book while Astrid went into the kitchen. When she returned, her friend had set out a pair of tea cups. A kettle of water sat on the stove, puffing a few light fingers of steam.

Leah laid
The Art of Whore
on the dinette table. “Take this home with you.”

“Did you read it?”

“Kind of.”

“You either read it or you didn’t.”

Leah turned toward the cupboard, bringing out an assortment of tea bags.

“But at least you looked at the illustrations,” Astrid continued. “Maybe got a little wet from the illustrations. Maybe more than a little wet.”

Pretending a sudden fascination with the varieties of tea bags, Leah busied herself sorting through the different flavors.

“You have to actually read the book, the entire book. It’s fantastic and it changed my life.”

“That’s nice,” Leah said. “I think that’s wonderful for you, I do, but this isn’t my kind of thing.”

Just like it didn’t use to be
your
kind of thing
, she thought
. Harlequin romances used to get you hot and bothered.

“You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

“You want the Herbal Mint or the Green Peach?” 

“That wasn’t our deal.”

You helped me with one bathroom!

“Can’t we make a different deal?”

“No.”

Leah said. “First of all, there’s the book’s title. It’s offensive. Then, yes, there’s the illustrations. They’re kind of raunchy.”

“Did you see the one at the end?”

“Last, and not even close to least, there’s the chapter titles.
The Opponent
? Love isn’t a fight.”

“Love isn’t a fight,” Astrid agreed, “but finding true love definitely can be. Besides, if you’d actually paid a little attention to the words on the pages, you’d realize the first chapter is only one step in the process.”

“So what’s the first step? I put on boxing gloves and….” She didn’t know how to finish her sentence. The suggestion was ridiculous.

“First, you learn your would-be lover’s most sensual secrets.” Opening the book, Astrid found the section she wanted. She showed it to her friend:

A true courtesan discovers their

lover as they discover themselves.

Know your lover’s mind and

you will win your lover’s heart.

– Sun Zu,
The Opponent

Leah shrugged.

“If you don’t make a serious effort to get Ian’s attention soon, you never will. You know he’s returning to Europe.”

“It’s just an infatuation, anyway.”

“It’s never going to be anything more if you don’t put yourself out there.”

“I’ve tried a couple of times,” Leah said. “It doesn’t matter. He won’t break the school’s stupid rules, the one about students and teachers.”

“You have to give him a reason to be naughty. Do you know how I met Josh?”

“At a club, right?”

“That’s what we let everyone think. I actually met him when he showed up at my office. His firm was in charge of checking the security on our computers.”

“He asked you out?”

“He said he couldn’t. His company’s HR manager refused to allow their employees to associate with any of their clients.”

“So what did you do?”

“I’d already found this book.” Astrid tapped its cover. “I told Josh, he could get a new job or miss out on the best girlfriend of his life. He thought it over for about ten seconds, then called in and gave notice the next day. And we’re living happily ever after.”

The tea kettle whistled and Leah took it from the stove. She poured the hot water into two separate cups.

“I was so afraid you were going to say, we
loved
happily ever after.”

“That, too.” Opening her purse, Astrid brought out some pages, folded over and stapled together. “Give me the Herbal Mint. Oh, and this is for you.”

Leah studied the first paper as the tea steeped. “‘Turn-ons: Garter belts, nude stockings. Fuck me pumps’. Did Josh give this to you?”

“Yep, but those aren’t Josh’s turn-ons.”

“Interesting.” She pulled out the second page. “Oh, this is colorful. ‘Sexiest cartoon character: Tinkerbelle’. What is this? The local perv’s personal guide to fun?”

“Close. This is Ian Parkin’s personal guide to fun.”

Her tea cup at her lips, Leah lowered it. “Say again?”

“A few days ago, I sent Josh out on a recon mission,” Astrid said. “He found the good Professor at
After Hours
, busy in the game room. He challenged him to a round of darts – you’ll find darts under the ‘Hobby’ section, right below ‘Favorite sexual position’.”

Leah turned to the second page. “This is bizarrely thorough.”

“Anyway, after every game, they shared a round of drinks. Then another. With Foghorn’s help, Ian was plenty lubricated before he took a taxi home.”

Spreading the three pages apart, Leah scanned all of the headings. “He shared a
lot
.”

“So much for our private, reserved Englishman, right?” Astrid sipped at her tea. “After a half dozen Bitter Shandies, he didn’t keep many secrets. Josh, my hero, followed my checklist and found the answers.”

“That’s despicable,” Leah told her. She read over the third page. “But, also, fairly wonderful. Ian likes women who wear eyeglasses?”

“You’re made for each other.”

“Serena doesn’t wear glasses and he’s attracted to her.” She lowered the last page to the table. “That part has to be wrong. Besides, Josh isn’t a darts player. You told me he doesn’t like to drink, either. How did you convince him to help?”

“I told him you were desperate –”

Leah made an unhappy noise.

“– and my best friend, and anything he did for you would result in a favor for him. Tit for tat.”

“What kind of favor?”

Astrid shook her head. “You don’t want to know. It involves a popular chain restaurant, mixed drinks and nudity. Tits for that, so to speak.”

“I’m touched,” Leah said, realizing she meant what she’d said. “You’ve convinced me. I’ll try again. I’ll finish your book.”

“About time.”

“Anything else you need?”

“Tonight, you study. Go over the first couple of chapters and call me if you have any questions. Tomorrow, we’re going shopping!”

Chapter Seven

In the beginning, approach your lover

with head bowed. Allow him to believe

he is in command while, truly, you control 

the situation. 

– Sun Zu,
The Supplicant

Leah used her index finger to push the eyeglasses up on the bridge of her nose.

Girls who wear glasses, never get passes,
she remembered.
Or was it, girls with big asses, never get passes?

Either way, I’m screwed.

She considered her new outfit. If tonight’s gambit didn’t work, she doubted she’d ever wear it again.

I like wearing my jeans and regular tops,
she protested to the world in general.
They’re comfy. They’re also sensible for someone working with wet clay.

What I’m wearing now isn’t close to sensible. I can’t believe I agreed to come to class, dressed like this.

She considered returning to her car and skipping the evening session. She couldn’t, though, without facing Astrid’s wrath. Besides, her friend had made her own commitment – “It involves a popular chain restaurant, mixed drinks and nudity” – and Leah had promised to take this next step.

Didn’t pinky-swear, though
, she told herself
.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door and entered the classroom. No one took any notice of her arrival.

When Leah sat down, her left leg jingled.

Astrid raised an eyebrow.

“I’m still getting used to this, all right?” Leah said a little curtly.

Grinning, Astrid collected her supplies before moving to Kendra McPherson’s work station. Just as they’d discussed earlier, Leah now had her table to herself.

Ian carried the folding screen from around his model. The exquisite Serena was nude in front of them, recreating her pose. Her appearance made a mockery of Leah’s terrible sculpture.

“Anyone needs help,” Ian said, “let me know.”

Leah raised her hand.

He raised an eyebrow in surprise. During each session, the teacher made this offer and, until this moment, Leah had ignored his invitation. She’d been embarrassed at the prospect of having her work closely inspected by someone who was so much more talented.

As her classmates returned to their projects, he came over to her. “Yes?”

She shifted her left leg. It jingled. Turning his head, Ian tried to locate the source of the sound.

Pretending she hadn’t noticed the noise, Leah said, “My piece just isn’t coming together.”

She moved her hands away from the project. Her clay Serena-beast was humped over, its body curled as if to protect itself from further abuse.

Ian told her, “I can see the effort you’ve put into this.”

“I’ve spent hours on it.”
Totally true
, she thought.
Completely sad.

“This is our model’s last night in this pose,” he told her. “While I rarely suggest abandoning a project, not if you’re still interested in finishing it, you need to remember your time here is limited. Not everything works out.”

Leah crossed her ankles and her left leg jingled once more.

The soft sound was teasingly close. Leaning over her, he said, “Did you hear something?”

“You haven’t heard it before?” Leah asked. “My fault. Once I found this, I just had to wear it.”

Discretely lifting a corner of her skirt, she showed him her leg. A long tan stocking ended in a pink and sexy garter belt. A tiny golden bell dangled from the belt.

She wiggled her leg and the bell
tinkled
softly. He was still focused on her leg when she said, “Professor?”

Caught staring, he focused on the clay in front of her. “I can make a few suggestions, if you’d like.”

“Please.”

“The proportion’s a bit skewed. The torso is too short, too rounded.”

Leah reached for her cutting tool.

“Blades are best in the early stages,” Ian said. “At this point, you want to use your hands. Your fingers.”

“Can you show me?” Her skirt was still lifted, her leg and garter belt exposed.

Concentrating intensely, he put his hands over her fingers and guided them to the sculpture. “Like this.”

He brought her palms over the figure’s body, reshaping it. “It’s too curled, too short. It needs to be elongated.”

Leah loved the strength in his hands, the feeling of being in his control.

“Just keep –”

“How firm should I hold it?” she asked.

About to release her, he took hold again. “Like this.”

“One hand or two?”

“You can, um…whatever works for you. Smooth, steady strokes.”

“You said I need to make it grow longer,” she told him. “How many strokes should I use?”

“Several,” he said, his voice growing huskier. Hearing himself, he straightened abruptly.

I guess you liked your little Tinkerbelle
, she thought.

“Why don’t we take five, people?” Ian told the other students. “Let’s give our model a break.”

He wiped at his forehead, forgetting about the clay he’d touched. A line of gray water trailed across his skin. Examining his hands, he left the room.

What did Sun Zu say in the book?
Leah reflected.

When you gain your lover’s interest,

he will pretend you have not.

Losing control of his desires,

he will fight to master them.

– Sun Zu,
The Watcher

Let’s hope Sun Zu knows what he’s talking about,
Leah thought.
If he’s right, then Professor Handsome should ignore me for the rest of the night.

Astrid tapped her on the shoulder. “Miss Young-and-Lovely has her cover-all on. Ready for Part B?”

Serena went out the side door while Leah washed her hands and collected her purse. Using the same exit, she found the model standing on a concrete pathway, smoking a cigarette.

“Got a light?” Leah asked her.

The model brought out a cheap, plastic lighter.

“Uh, got a cigarette?”

Serena reached into the oversized pocket on her gown. “I haven’t seen you out here before.”

“I don’t smoke.” When the student appeared confused, Leah added, “I’m just trying to make conversation. I need a favor.”

“If it’s money, for abused pets or the poor or whatever, there’s no chance. I’m cashed out.” Dropping the cigarette, Serena ground her sandal over it. “Unless it’s a posing job? I’ll do private poses, like at your studio or something, but I still get twenty an hour.”

“Is that what Ian pays you?”

“The college, yeah.”

“So, for the two hours of our class, you make forty dollars.”

Serena nodded.

“What happens if you don’t show up?”

“Don’t know,” she confessed. “Professor Parkins would probably be in trouble, though. He canceled a couple of classes during the Art Expo so he’s not allowed to drop any more. Since the class is called ‘Life Sculpture’, somebody has to pose.”

“That’s what I think, too.”

Selena’s face lit up. “Hey, I guess the Prof could go starkers. That’s what they call it in Britain, right, when you’re in the buff? I’ll bet he looks good for an older guy.”

I’ll bet he does, too,
Leah thought. “I’ll pay you a hundred dollars if you’ll skip the next class.”

“You’re not serious.”

She handed her a small roll of bills. “But you have to cancel tonight, right after class. Give Ian some excuse but don’t tell him I talked to you.”

“I don’t like leaving him hanging.”

“He’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

Smiling broadly, the model tucked the money into her gown’s pocket.

Once Serena returned to her spot at the front of the room, Ian avoided the front tables. He busied himself with little chores. He drifted to the doorway, repositioned the clock that hung from the side wall, and spoke with a few of the other students.

Just as Sun Zu had promised, it was as if Leah had suddenly turned invisible.

“Good luck,” Astrid said, packing up her things at the end of the hour. Leah used the newly-positioned wall clock to watch a few minutes tick by before walking over to the teachers’ offices.

Dressed in jeans and a drop-waist tunic, Serena was at the end of the hallway. She stepped out of an open doorway. “Sorry, Professor.”

Ian responded from inside the room, his sexy, accented voice muffled behind the walls.

“Nope, can’t think of anybody,” Serena responded. “Maybe you can fill in.”

Turning, she giggled. Passing Leah as she left, she gave her a wink.

“Damn it,” Ian growled softly, his head bent as Leah entered the office.

“Professor Parkins?” she said. “Ian?”

He looked up. “Miss Preston.”

“Call me Leah.”

“Leah,” he agreed. “Can I help you?”

“You already did,” she said. She sat on the chair across from him and, without any encouragement on her part, the bell on her garter belt jingled. “My sculpture still isn’t ready for the North County Art Show but at least it’s presentable.”

“Don’t be harsh on yourself. You’re just beginning.”

“Not so much.”

“No?” Her admission surprised him. “It’s not important, as long as you enjoy trying, don’t you think?”

The scowl on his face faded. His dark eyes brightened and his jaw softened, allowing his mouth to relax.

Sitting in his office, I feel like I’m in high school
, Leah realized
. Talking to Mr. Hobbs, the poetry teacher all of the girls wanted to kiss.

I want to do much more than just kiss Ian Parkins.

“Is something the matter?” she asked. “When I came in, you sounded upset.”

“It’s our model, Serena. She’s had to cancel out on our next class, some kind of family thing.” He spread his hands apart. “I’m not sure what to do. I simply can’t find a replacement in time.”

“I could pose,” Leah said. The words came easily but why not? She’d been practicing them in her head for the last thirty minutes.

He considered her offer for a few seconds then shook his head. “It’s not as easy a job as you might think. Holding one position for any length of time is a challenge. Besides, we’re doing Life Sculpture. The models can’t wear clothing.”

“Okay.” She rose from the chair and swiveled, remembering to give the tiniest shake.

Jingle.

At the doorway, she said, “It’s not as if I haven’t done it before.”
I am such a liar.
“I posed for Kent Johnson’s Life Drawing class three years ago.”

“You posed for Johnson?”

Good old Kent Johnson,
Leah thought
. White-haired but ready for adventure. Eager to travel the world.

The last time anyone heard from him, he was in Cambodia. I wonder where he is now?

Peru, perhaps? Indonesia? Some distant land without good cell service, anyway, according to Kendra McPherson.

“Ask him yourself,” she said. “He told me I was excellent.”

“Hmmm.”

“If you need me, I charge twenty dollars an hour.”

She was halfway to the parking lot before Ian caught up with her.

“Wait, wait,” he called. “You’ve got a deal.”     

Chapter Eight

Your lover has noticed you but

he has not yet seen you. Tease him

with your beauty, entice him with