Love Deluxe (30 page)

I walked away from John to tell the story, not wanting him to get more agitated.

“I’ll see the judge in the morning,” Rob said. “It’s Sunday but I’m playing golf with him. We’ll get an emergency restraining order; do you want to file assault charges?”

“Let me sleep on it,” I said, “I’m too upset to make a decision now.”

***

I decided not to file charges against Ben Foster, I just wanted it forgotten and shut away in my head, as neatly contained as all the other difficult memories. I expected an argument from John but he only mumbled something about out-foxing the fox. We signed the restraining order and left Rob’s office. John was going to Vegas immediately, he wanted to get out of Texas, needed time to think. He would drive so he’d have plenty of time for that. He packed a small bag as soon as we were home and I stepped outside onto the River Walk to keep from watching him go. I walked along the river, thick with tourists, up the steps to LaVillita and into the little church where we were married, ten months before. As I sat on a smooth wooden pew he scooted in beside me.

“Just let me get out there, buddy, it will only take two or three days tops to make the drive. You fly out then, I’ll pick you up at the airport and we’ll pretend we’re strangers. We can go to a hotel where no one knows us and make love in the elevator, cameras be damned.”

It was a hot June day but the church was cool and quiet, light slid in through the stained glass window and he said, “Remember our three kiss wedding when the sun came pouring through that window in spite of the rain?”

I smiled at the memory but I couldn’t look at him, I felt such an overwhelming loneliness and despite my best efforts, tears slipped down my cheeks.

He kissed me, tasted my tears, and whispered, “No, baby, don’t. I won’t leave until you’re ready.”

We walked back to the carriage house and climbed the two flights of stairs knowing we were going to the third story bedroom. When we nearly at the top he was behind me and ran a hand up my leg, I stopped; let him stand below me, his fingers glided over the silky panties.

“Always ready for me,” he said, “the thought of you, the way you feel stays in my head day and night.”

He pushed the panties aside and worked a finger into me and I sank to my knees and leaned forward, resting my head on the top step. He pulled my shorts down, the panties caught in his hand. I felt them torn away as removed his finger, and leaning close to me inserted two fingers at once. I gasped and he wrapped one powerful arm around the waist and pulled me firmly onto them. He used his freehand to bring me to the edge and just as I began to tense and moan he removed his hand and fingers. I pulsed with need, sat up and turned to face him, he unzipped his pants and guided his erection across my lips.

I tasted his wetness on my tongue; it was warm and spicy as he pushed into my mouth. I had only to suck as he gently held my head and moved in and out, he nudged the back of my throat throwing me off balance as I tried to hold onto him. He pulled out suddenly and sank to the step, struggling for composure. I stood and walked to the bedroom removing my shirt and bra and slid into the bed, the cool sheets were a marvelous indulgence in the middle of the day. He was at the bed then, peeling his clothes off, hovering over me for only a second before covering my lips with his and pushing gently into me.

Chapter Twenty Three

John left early in the morning, leaning over the bed to kiss me before he went. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him down, his hands instinctively raked over to my body.

“Mmm, my sweetie’s so warm; I’ll come back to bed if you want me to.”

“Go.” I said, “Don’t make it any harder.” He raised an eyebrow and I said, “Harder to watch you leave, as in difficult, you sex maniac!”

It was such an empty sound when the front door closed and the car drove away, but immediately the phone rang, “Yes?”

“Three days, okay? Fly out, get an evening flight, we’ll go somewhere cool for dinner.”

“Okay, buddy.” I said and we both laughed.

I went downstairs, got my Diet Coke, opened the French doors to the sounds of the day and settled into the sofa. The coo of the doves made me feel happy and I dialed Maggie then we got Laura on a three way call.

“Do not say you’re missing the Fourth of July at the beach.” Maggie scolded, always the big sister.

“That’s right,” Laura added. “We need girl time and as your husband would say, “You’re a fun hang.””

“I wouldn’t dream of denying you two the pleasure of my company. Who’s driving, who’s flying, details, please?”

We made our plans, everyone would fly in, Maggie would make the reservations, arrange for a rental car, we’d meet at the airport in Panama City and drive to the cottage together. The phone beeped, it was Emily, I told the sisters to keep me posted, it would be a great trip.

“I think you owe me lunch, Drama Queen.” Emily said.

“Fine,” I said, “bring your boring ass over here and pick me up. I need new swimsuits, so guess what we’re doing today?”

She handled the Mercedes like a race car, darting in and out of the downtown traffic.

“Hey Ricky Bobby, can you loan me a Dramamine? Damn, what’s the rush?”

“Practicing, I’m getting the Mercedes sports car, it’s gonna be fast.”

“Midlife crisis?” I asked and she said, “Maybe.”

We ate lunch at
Paesanos
and I told her everything that had been going on, the trips to California, how Vegas had changed and how I’d changed. That I’d come to love the slot machines, I won and lost and couldn’t get enough.

“I don’t have to think when I’m sitting there, just push the button and my mind empties. No worries, no outside world, just the anticipation of a win.”

“Honey, pardon me but you’re sounding like an addict,” she said, laying her fork down and looking at me seriously.

“You and Rob go to Vegas, what’s the big deal?”

“We go once a year, I budget a few hundred dollars for Black Jack, play a couple of hours and walk away.”

“Change of subject,” I said, “are you ready to hear what happened with John’s horrible excuse for a father and are we going on our girl trip this year?”

“Of course we’re doing the trip; I have brochures in my purse, several choices we can talk about. But I wanna hear about the old man, Rob wouldn’t say anything so it must be bad.”

I told her what Ben Foster said to me on the patio, about what happened in the restroom, that I was afraid it wasn’t over, afraid he’d pushed John too far.

“Sister woman, that old man is big time serial killer sick out of his mind! Maybe we should go on our trip now, right away. Seriously, Cate, you and John both need to stay the hell out of Texas for a long time.”

“You know,” I said, “the worst part is that he would think about and say that he could kill his son. That he would say that to me when he knows…”

“I know,” she squeezed my hand. “Only humans are cruel to one another, your crazy husband was right when he said, “Nothing will kick your ass like planet Earth.””

“Out of the mouths of babes.”

And she said, “Yep, especially when those babes are gorgeous fucking men with big dicks.”

“You’re language has become appallingly vulgar as you’ve aged.” I told her in my best Sunday school teacher voice.

“You are correct, I must attempt to curb the inappropriate things I say, most assuredly in front of someone with your delicate sensibilities. Now remind me, was it just yesterday you were turning your husband every way but loose on the staircase?”

“I should never have told you that, bitch!”

“Well you did tell me and you did do it and now I know, slut, so there.”

We laughed like fools, glad to be together, seamlessly picking up threads of conversations begun days, weeks, even years before.

“So, I’m thinking either a road trip through Maine, the spa at the Arizona
Biltmore
or hiking and a five star resort in the mountains of Banff,” she said and laid several travel brochures on the table.

“Maine! Maine sounds good and it’s the home state of John Irving and Stephen King; I would love to visit all those cool little towns with funky names.”

“Well, I don’t really care,” she said, “but this year there’s going to be serious exercise every day. I have to lose some weight and it will do me good trying to keep up with your skinny ass.”

I looked at the brochures; they all looked inviting, desert, forests, mountains, lakes.

“I’m gonna say no to the
Biltmore
, I’ve seen plenty of desert lately so you pick.”

“Banff,” she said without hesitation, “and Lake Louise. Look at these pictures, don’t they just scream “escape”?”

We worked out a plan, she’d meet me in Las Vegas in ten days and we’d leave from there.

Two days later, as my plane was boarding for the flight to Vegas my cell phone rang, I glanced at the screen and couldn’t believe it.

“McKay? Are you calling to tell me you’ve fallen in and you’re getting married?”

“Maybe, are you getting divorced?”

I let the comment slide, “I’m getting on a plane this very minute, are you alright, what’s going on?”

“Not much, living, traveling. I’m on the boat now, going to Bimini and some of the small islands. It’s getting late, Josh is at the wheel, the sea is spectacular tonight and you crossed my mind.”

“Hmm, after six months I crossed your mind?”

“I’m a stubborn man, I waited for you to call, thought you would come back… to the beach. Maybe you did and you didn’t want to see me.”

“You know that wouldn’t happen. I haven’t been back to the cottage, I’ll be there for the Fourth of July with my sisters. Will you come meet my family and have dinner, or lunch, something?”

“I’m staying in the Bahamas for the Fourth.”

“Right, I don’t blame you. Listen, I’ve gotta turn my phone off before they call an air marshal. I… wish you weren’t so far away, I wish you were going to be in Florida for the Fourth, how selfish is that?”

“Text me the dates that you’ll be in town,” he said and hung up.

John picked me up at the airport and we got stuck on Las Vegas Boulevard in bumper to bumper traffic and tourists.

“I have a surprise,” he said. “Fuck it all, this place is packed in the summer. I should’ve pissed at the airport.”

“Well, it’s good to see you too, my love.”

“Come here, I have missed my sweetie, and we’re not going to a hotel, that’s the surprise, I rented a condo.” He leaned over and kissed me; his eyes were that clear Caribbean blue. He started unzipping his pants and I felt the familiar jolt of excitement. “I need something,” he said, “fuck; I just threw out a cup.”

“What are you doing?” I asked, truly perplexed.

He laid on the horn but it was no use, we were inching along.

“John?”

He reached to the back seat and grabbed an empty Walmart bag, held it over his penis and began to pee, moaning loudly.

“Have you lost your mind, you’re peeing in a bag, that’s going to leak!”

He filled the bag so full that I thought,
Jesus, he does have the world’s biggest bladder
.

“Is it leaking?” he asked frantically, “I don’t want to get piss in the car!” He gestured for me to take the bag as the traffic started to move.

“No way, don’t hand that to me,” I said, moving as far away as possible.

We were moving faster and he rolled down the window and dropped the bag, splashing a long line of tourists crossing the street.

***

We stepped into the elevator at the
Nevada
, the elegant high rise where he’d rented a condo.

“I’m impressed; it’s grandiose but doesn’t scream “new money.” But why a condo, John, I thought you loved the comped hotels, are you moving to Las Vegas?”

He pushed the emergency stop button, a bell rang but it wasn’t that loud.

“Is that what you’re worried about? That I won’t bring you with me? You know I can’t live without my sweetie.”

He moved fast, before the elevator started again, lifted me onto the brass handrail and I struggled to balance myself and pull my panties off while he unzipped his pants and pushed my linen skirt to my waist.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he said, his voice husky, and as I did he pushed me back against the wall and entered me with a few powerful thrusts.

I gripped him with my thighs and he covered my mouth with his and groaned as if we were new to the act. I could hear men talking outside the doors and John moved deeper and said, “Come on, baby, don’t hold back.” His hands were on my breasts, tweaking and pulling at my nipples through the thin fabric of my dress. “Fuck, I can’t hold back!” he groaned and it pushed me over the edge. I was rocked with spasms as I clung to him. He sank against me as the doors opened; I unpinned myself from the wall and from him as three men stared in wonder. I straightened my clothes as best I could and I couldn’t look at any of them. John turned to face them, his penis hanging down and glistening wet, he smiled, arranged himself and zipped his pants.

“Well, you men showed up just in time, I was afraid we’d be stuck in here for hours,” he said.

The condo was furnished in a minimalist style and had great walls of windows that faced the Strip. It felt cold and austere, less personal even than a hotel room.

He loved it and was proud as he gave me the tour, “There’s twenty four hour room service, concierge, spa, anything you want is right here.”

“But why? We don’t live in Las Vegas, I like it here but it’s not a
live in
kind of place, it’s a city without a soul.”

He sat on the couch, long legs stretched out as he pulled me on top of him, “It’s not forever, I have to let things cool off back home.”

“Okay, buddy.” I said, and he kissed me and tangled his hands in my hair.

“Let me get through this and we’ll be set for life and whatever makes you happy, that’s what I want.” I snuggled into him and he stroked my hair and my back but he seemed far away, he stood, lifted me with him and said, “Let’s take a shower, we have a dinner reservation and I want to show off my wife.”

He’d made a late reservation at
Bartolotta
at the
Wynn
and as we walked through the casino and past the club XS, I caught a glimpse of Drew seated with several young beauties.
Good for you
, I thought,
use protection
.

We had the most delicious grilled lobster pasta I’d ever tasted with Brussels sprouts that melted in the mouth and crostini topped with caviar. We drank two superb bottles of wine and I felt deeply content as we walked arm and arm through the casino.

“Are, you tired?” John asked, “I want to gamble a while, do you want to stay with me?”

“I’ll probably play the slots for half an hour then go on to bed; I’m still on Texas time.”

“Here,” he said, and emptied some chips from his pockets into my purse.

“Come find me if you get lonely,” he said and he disappeared into the crowd.

Mark smiled as soon as I entered the high limit room and came to greet me.

“Miss Stuart! Welcome back, will you be playing tonight, water or a martini? Would you like access to your lock box?”

“Just water, please. I have chips I’ll use tonight.”

I fished them from my purse and he took them from me and said, “Let me get these changed, make yourself comfortable, do you have your players card?”

“Oh, I don’t think so.”

“I’ll get you another; I would imagine you’ve accumulated a great deal of comps.”

A server handed me a bottle of water and a pack of cigarettes and matches, my brand, they didn’t miss much. Mark counted out thirty three thousand dollars, I played the hundred dollar machine and it went nowhere fast, I got a sick feeling when I hit the button and nothing happened. I stared at the machine and it registered zero credits, I opened my purse and realized I’d lost twenty three thousand dollars in less than an hour. For the first time, I panicked. How was it possible that I’d gone through all that money and not even realized it? I walked to the counter and handed Mark the key to my lock box, I opened it and took out twenty thousand.
God
, maybe Emily was right,
I’d become an addict
. I started to walk away, then turned to Mark and said, “That last machine didn’t treat me very well; I’ve never lost that kind of money before.”