Divine: A Novel (6 page)

“Serious one, yeah. I had two flings a
month later, but nothing I’d pursue; more like rebounds. Then I felt like I
needed some time alone... so what are you writing? Is it scholarly? A
textbook?”

He changes the subject quickly and I get
the drift. I noticed that at dinner as well. He focuses on the present more
than the past, which is good, because my past isn’t for the faint-of-heart. I’d
like to keep it to myself for as long as possible.

“I’m writing novels based on women’s
issues, or maybe you could categorize them as ‘women’s studies,’ how about
you?” I lie, kind of. I guess you could call erotic novels ‘women’s studies.’

“Men’s studies,” he jokes. “A side
project, actually, on fishing. The proper way to catch, prepare, cook, and eat a
good fish.”

“You’re writing about gutting and eating
fish?”

“Men like it, just like I’m sure women
enjoy your books. Right? Are they published yet?”

“I’ve self-published three, working on a
fourth.”

“Same here.” He takes my hand while
carrying my two bags in the other.

“Professor Hallowell.” My name is called
out by a high-pitched voice. “Professor!”

There’s no escape from the university.
The town’s too small and the campus enrollment too large to go anywhere without
bumping into a colleague or a student. Oh, Jesus. It’s sorority girl Hannah’s
sorority friend; sorority girl number two. Same pink sweatshirt and blue jeans
as Hannah. It’s hard to tell these girls apart sometimes, Greekers all look the
same, don’t they? Is that racist?

 
“Hi Bridgette,” I smile. She takes out her
cell and snaps a photo of Dan and me then asks the most dumbass and
inappropriate question. It’s like I’m back in the classroom with the ditz.

“You getting married? Did this guy knock
you up?”

Dan releases my hand while Bridgette
chomps her gum, waiting for an answer that will never come. She blows a bubble
resembling a growing red pimple that’s taking over her face. I want to pop it
so it splatters and gets stuck in her hair. A big sugar bubble explosi...

Whoa.

He did it. Dan did it.

“Oh my gosh,” Bridgette whines. “Like,
why did you do that?” She starts picking at the gum, only to have it stick to
her fingers as she pulls pieces away in long strings not unlike spaghetti.
“Grow up!” she yells before vanishing into the restroom.

“I can’t believe you did that,” I gasp.
“Holy shit.”

“She had it coming. Look, it’s seven.
Let’s get something to eat besides cinnamon rolls and then...”

“James Daniel,” Bridgette shouts from the
restroom doorway. “Fuck off!”

He sighs and places a hand on the small
of my back, leading us away.

“How do you know her? Did you two date?
She’s probably only nineteen.” I speak quickly in need of answers. I won’t date
a guy who’s been with one of my students. That’s too close for comfort. Maybe
she was one of his rebounders last year, but then she would’ve been eighteen
and barely legal.

“She’s my sister.”

“Really?” Okay. Sister, I can handle.
Former bed buddy, nope. “Shit, that’s right, she’s a Keller.” I recall her name
now from first day of the semester introductions. Did you know she was in one
of my classes before tonight?”

“No. We don’t talk all that much about
things like school.”

“Then the two of you don’t get along?”

“Food court?” he asks.

“Something light. A smoothie or a salad,”
I reply.

“We get along,” he says, pointing to
Salad-A-Go-Go. “But we have the classic brother sister TV sitcom relationship.
I’ll tease her for the rest of her life and she’ll spend her time annoying the
shit out of me. We love one another.”

“Well, I’m an only child, so everything
you just said makes little sense to me.” I reach for my bag of books as we
stand in line but he moves them behind his back like a bat out of Hell.

“You really want these don’t you?” he
grins.

“Why don’t you hand them over so I can pick
three for you, and then I’ll take the rest home?”

“Nope.”

“Fine, but just so you know, I bought
them for display purposes and not to read.”

“Yeah, that sounds believable. And I buy
my books because they make good toilet paper.”

“Seriously, I did.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Now you’re getting on my nerves and I
hope I don’t call you something nasty, something I don’t want everyone in this
line to hear.” I swing the bag around and look at the menu. “Can you order me a
Raspberry Walnut salad while I use the restroom? I need to chill out.”

“Give me your bag.”

“Don’t you trust me? I won’t peek.” I
walk backward with a sinister smile as he tries not to laugh.

My short escape is the perfect time to
check my sales and reviews on my cell. Yes, that’s what I do sometimes in public
restrooms. I’m sure a lot of people are texting or checking Facebook in the
stalls next to mine. And, one of these days I’m going to open my sales page and
see hundreds of books sold in one day instead of fifty. Fifty doesn’t cut it.

Forty. Forty doesn’t cut it either and
that’s where I’m at right now. Ass-balls, I’ve got a shitty review as well.

Family
and friends must have written the 5-star reviews and if it were possible, I’d
give this book zero stars. Don’t waste your time or money. Stay away! I won’t
be buying any more books from this author
.
I deleted it from my
Kindle, but wish I could delete it from my mind.

Fucking troll.

This review is such a classic one-star
non-informative bunch of bull. Not one sentence has any specific information
about the book, which leads me to believe they didn’t even read it. The only
thing they forgot was -
did not finish!
And anyway, I don’t even have any family or friends. Duh.

I hope as punishment she gets flattened
by a bus.

Great. Harsh words float around the university
and now I’m getting them on my books? You’ve gotta have a thick skin in this
world... or be a hermit, which is why I spend so much time alone. If no one
else is around, they can’t do you harm. Sounds like a good mantra to live by;
only now, Dan is here, and by reaching out to him I’ve complicated my life.

“You ready to go?” he asks when I return.

“No,” I say, confused. “What happened to
the salads?”

He holds up the Salad-A-Go-Go bag and
nods in the direction of the food court, where Bridgette and her friends, my
students, are hanging out. If we lived in a more populated area only rats would
crawl out of the sewers at night. I can deal with rats while I eat, but not a
fly on the wall.

“Have you ever gone up Rawlings Road?” he
asks as we walk to his car.

“You mean the dirt death trap behind
where we live? It’s a dead end.”

“It’s a nice place to go when you need a
quiet spot to think. It’s only a quarter mile and it ends at the top of a hill.
With our new row house community growing, another line of them will be built
behind us by next year, right on that hill, and then Rawlings Road will be
gone. I thought you might want to see it before that happens.”

“I don’t know. A guy I’ve been out with
twice wants to take me to the end of a dirt road. Sounds like a set-up for a
horror movie.”

“Tell you what. You eat dinner with me at
the top of that hill, and I’ll leave you with an entire bag of books.”

“You’re bribing me with my own books?” I
laugh. “And if I say yes and you kill me, you get the books anyway, so how is
that beneficial to me?”

“You’re not serious? I mean, we were in
the fitting room with no one else around and on your front porch... I didn’t
hurt you then.”

“I was within earshot of other people,
but up there...”

“It’s pretty, Div. That’s all.” He seems
disappointed.

“What if a bear attacks us?”

“Then we’re dead. I can’t kill a bear
with my bare hands. It’s a chance you’ll have to take,” he smiles and places
the bags in the backseat of his Cherokee.

“Oh.”

Bears. A bear would be worse than being
strangled. I don’t want to be eaten and shit out by a wild animal. “Can we stay
in your car?”

“Nope. There’s no point of driving up the
hill if you don’t get out and walk a few yards to the cliff.”

“Hell no. Now there’s a cliff? I don’t
think so, Dan.”

He laughs as we drive away from the mall.
“Suit yourself. I’ll drop you off and you can eat alone.”

“Wait, There’re no other options? That
sucks. You can’t have all the control in this relationship. You know what, pull
over.”

Oh my God, he’s pulling over. Why did I
say that? What am I going to do now? I was only teasing.

“Okay. I’m pulled over.”

He waits.

I wait.

Fuck.

“Alright, James Daniel Keller. I’m not
even going to use the term relationship because we haven’t even kissed yet, and
as far as I’m concerned, we’re hanging out as friends. Once I feel your tongue
then I’ll know it’s official. So as friends, I’m sure we can agree on another
place to eat, like my...”

You
asshole, Div. Shut your fat mouth, open your legs, and fuck him.

Violet.

“Eat where? Your place?” he asks. “That’s
fine. Are you inviting me in?”

Yes,
enter into my tight dark hole that Div’s been hiding from men for years. If you
can break through the cobwebs, you can come in.

I’m not ready for this. “No,” I shake my
head. “No, not yet. I need some time to clean before you come inside.”

Liar!

“You know, Rawling Road’s starting to
sound okay. Yep, it is. Yes. Yeah, let’s go up that dirt road. It will be
fine.”

“You sure? That was a quick change.”

“I was only kidding around.”

“Like the books, right? They’re for
display?”

“You’ll see soon enough, and then you’ll
think twice about picking on me.”

“You know,” he says while brushing a
finger over his lips. We continue to our neighborhood and I wait for the rest of
his sentence. You know what?

“Sooo...” he starts again, dragging the
word out as we start to drive up the dirt road. A dust cloud forms behind the
Cherokee as the tires seek traction on the steep slope. The short burst of rain
last night wasn’t enough to quench the dry earth.

So what? Talk damn it. Sooo, say
something.

“So,” he says again after we reach the
top of the hill. We’re parked. This must be it. He’s either going to fuck me or
kill me. “We’re not in a relationship until you get some tongue action? Is that
correct?”

I nod.

“What if I fuck you without ever touching
your lips? Would we still be just friends?” His brows and cheeks rise as he
steps out and pops the trunk. I follow him with the salads and he pats the
floor of the interior of the vehicle where we sit side-by-side.

“And what if I don’t have a tongue? Would
you still like me then?” He pries the plastic cover off his salad bowl while I
unwrap the plastic forks, handing him one, wondering why we’re up here, in the
dark, at the start of mosquito season, where the bears are hiding, and whether
or not he has a tongue.

“It smells fresh up here,” I say as my
legs dangle and swing outside of the trunk.

“Willows,” he swallows. “The willow tree
branches have just started to bud. To me it’s like a mix of potting soil and
sweet bread.”

He smells it. Wow, I’ve met a man who can
actually appreciate scents. I want a kiss from him. No, screw kissing, I shaved
today and my vag needs to make an appearance.

I rush through my salad, nearly choking
at one point, needing him, no longer interested in playing games. I’ve deprived
him of a kiss not once or twice, but three times. He must feel apprehensive and
after three letdowns, if I were a guy, I’d wait for the girl to make the next
move.

Unzip
his jeans and lick his dick, Div. Do it!

“No,” I whisper.

“No what?” he asks, aware that I’m
finished eating and pushing the rest of his salad to the side.

“No bears,” I smile.

“Come with me,” he says. “I want to show
you what’s special about this place.”

Dan has a spell on me. It’s only been two
dates and I’m already calmer than I’ve ever been with any other guy. No sweaty
armpits tonight... and he didn’t kill me, not yet anyway. That’s a plus.

We walk along a short path, tripping over
rocks in the darkness, and at the end is the cliff he was referring to, a
straight drop of about thirty feet. But the cliff’s not why we’re here.

CHAPTER
SIX

“B
eautiful,” I whisper.

The university is the central hub with lights
from the dorms, apartments, subdivisions, and shopping centers radiating around
the outside.

“I’ve come here about once a week over
the past year.”

“Alone?”

“Until now,” he nods. “Do you see it
yet?”

I look over the town in search of something
special, but see nothing, only sparkling orbs. Maybe that’s it. They’re enough,
right? That’s what he wants me to see, all the pretty lights?

“Over there,” he points to the center of
campus. My building. Old Main.

From this height, I can see the top of
the flat roof and the small tower that holds the flag in the very center. It
houses a tiny glowing light, the heart to all who live here. But on that roof
is a glowing secret, something only seen from a great height. One letter on
each side of the flag tower, an F to the left and a U on the right. A giant
glowing FU.

“No shit,” I laugh. “Did you do that?”

“No,” he takes my hand. “It was probably
a fraternity prank, or initiation, or maybe a pissed off student.”

“Or a disgruntled faculty member. There’ve
been plenty of those and most were in that building. But you know, it could be
one of those rare occurrences where part of the P burned out in just the right
place.”

“Don’t try to figure out the why or the
how, just enjoy it for how it is at this moment,” he says, leading me back to
the car.

What the fuck? He just passed on a
perfectly good opportunity to kiss me under the stars in a beautiful spot.
Hello?

“You’ve been stuck in my head all day,
Div.”

Kiss me.

“I didn’t get much work done because of
you.”

Turn and kiss me.

“I have reviews to write tonight before a
new list of products and company sites appears in my box tomorrow. I’m sorry
that I can’t spend more time with you this evening.”

Kiss me! Kiss me!

“I just needed a couple of hours with
you. Seeing your beautiful face in person should pacify me for the rest of the
evening.”

KISS ME!

He opens the passenger door and I look at
him with my eyes bugging out of my head. I’m sending telepathic thoughts to his
brain and his dick, with no luck, so I give up and climb inside. Damn.

Good
job, Div. Why the fuck didn’t YOU kiss him? Dumbass.

The Cherokee slides on the dirt and
gravel, the wheels spinning and skidding, dust forming giant storm clouds, and
me holding onto the ‘shit handle’ for dear life. You know, the handle above the
passenger side door. The one people hold onto in tight turns or on high-speed
chases when they yell
oh shit!

He parks in front of his place and as
promised, I’m allowed to pick one of the two bags of books to take home.
Yippee! I feel like I just stepped off the bus from grammar school and my
mother agrees I can have a snack before dinner.
One cookie, Divine. Just one.

I miss her. I don’t want to think about
her right now. Not on this date.

Dan surrenders the books as we reach my
front stoop, and then he places both hands in his front pockets and starts to
whistle a tune that reminds me of the theme song to the Andy Griffith show.
Classic, old school, happy-go-lucky, all-American, whistling.

“Well, good night, Div,” he says, with no
indication of stepping forward, or an inkling of a kiss, or even another date.
Instead, he takes a step back then turns and moves toward his place. What’s
going on? I’m lagging here... his thoughts, his actions; I always know what’s
coming in a relationship, but not tonight.

“Wait, hold on,” I call after him.
“Nothing happened.”

We meet on the sidewalk, directly between
our two homes.

I put my palms up in a
what gives
gesture. “I don’t get it.
Nothing’s happening. Isn’t something supposed to go down?”

“What? Like a good old-fashioned orgy?”
he laughs. “You want me to kidnap you or smack you around a few times? I
suppose we could go inside and fuck, but that would seem too planned since
we’re standing here talking about it. And I mentioned I’m not a wounded man,
not in need of saving. They seem to be everywhere these days. So, you’re right,
nothing happened. So what?”

“Yeah, but a kiss? A kiss is something,
not nothing.”

He grins and holds the side of my neck in
his hand while his thumb brushes along my cheek. I close my eyes, nestling into
his soft skin while we both exhale.

“Div,” he whispers with a finger on my
lips. “From what I can tell, you’re not the type of woman who wants our first
kiss to be at the top of a hill that overlooks the city, or on your front
stoop, or even on this sidewalk under the stars. Those moments, this moment,
they all seem too predictable, too simple, too 1980s John Hughes teen romance.
Those are the kisses you get from a high school lover when you’re a virgin.”

He’s wrong. Men are so fucking stupid.

“Fine,” I say and do a quick U-turn to my
place. “But I’ll have you know I shaved today!” I call back as I approach my
steps. “And I’m not talking about my legs. My vag is smooth as a baby’s bottom
and if you wait too long it’s gonna turn into a porcupine!” I shut my door and
laugh then open it to see he’s still standing in the same spot. “Oh, and Dan.
Thank you. I really did have a nice time.”

Shut the door. Lock the door. Smile
behind the door. Phew. That was fun. I wonder if that was Violet speaking or
me? It felt like me, but sometimes it’s hard to tell.

Dan’s gonna jerk off tonight; I just know
it. I bet his pants will be down in less than five minutes after he gets
inside, and I want to watch. I want to sneak over and look in the window, but
I’m going to be nice and give him a little privacy this evening.

I race upstairs, slide out of my
ultra-slim-too-tight-non-breathable-skinny-mini jeans, grab my laptop from my
desk, and head down to the kitchen. A glass of wine, no pants, my laptop, and
the Dick Sluts are all I need. Forget getting laid for now, I’ve got some
marketing to do. I’ll fantasize about Dan later.

One of my fans posted on the Sluts asking
if anyone’s read Violet Cuddlecock’s new book. Twenty people reply saying how
wonderful it is, that is was one of their favorite books of the year, and that
it’s a
must read
.

My street team. Thank the dear Lord for
my street team. A few random women post that they own it, but haven’t read it
yet, and another woman says she hated it.

Comments like that seem so unnecessary.

I create a post with a photo attached of
a naked guy in bed with a sheet over just his erect dick and a quote from my
book running across his abs.

I’m
gonna drag you by your neck into this bed and fuck you until you can no longer
stand, my tight vagina princess. Then we’re going to fuck some more so tomorrow
you can tell all of your high school friends that I’m King Peen. At eighteen,
you’re Grade A Prime. ~Daven Wilderness

Ha, that’s a good one.

The Sluts comment that it sounds awesome.
They can tell from those two sentences that they’re going to love it. I smile
and sip my wine, hoping that’s true.

Shit! I forgot to look at the books Dan
bought. And I have my own to dive into as well. Fuck the online fictional dick,
I’m getting some handheld crisp white paperback dick tonight.

The two bags are still out front. I
must’ve walked right past them when I was shouting to Dan and the rest of the
neighborhood about my shaved vag.

I take my wine and the books upstairs, as
ecstatic as a mother holding her newborn for the first time. Bad analogy? Fuck
off. You don’t know what it’s like to have a love for books. I dropped
everything I was doing for these books.

A bag of books. My babies.

I dump the entire pile of retro pulp
western porn on my bed and jump in. Literally. I fall on top of them and roll
around.

I never said I wasn’t crazy.

I’m not very bright, either. Damn these
things hurt when they dig into your back. I stare at the ceiling, wondering how
to get up without a book disappearing in my butt crack. Oh, what have I done?

Oh! What have I done!

I sit up in a flash as someone knocks on
the glass door to my bedroom. I’m pant-less, on a pile of books, and someone,
no not someone; it’s Dan, has climbed up my back stairs to my deck and is
banging at my door. I can’t believe he’s looking at me. Voyeur!

Whited
sepulcher
.

Not now Violet.

I’ve
always wanted to use that term, thanks for giving me the opportunity, Div
.
It
means hypocri...

I know what it means. Shut up.

In a panic I place a book over my crotch
and stare back at him, not sure what to do next. This is awkward. Yes, I wanted
him to see my immaculate shave job, but not in this bright light. Candle light,
maybe, but not like this.

“Dan! Turn around so I can put on my
pants!”

His voice comes through the glass in a
muffled wave. “I like you without pants. Open the door.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I look at the floor,
then at the light switch, and then back to him. I’m in a thong, not my grandma
period panties or even my low-cut briefs, nope, a thong, and I can’t reach my
pants. I wanted action tonight, but this... he’s... ug, it’s just too bright. I
can’t flash my body under hundred watt bulbs; it’s like stripping in the bright
afternoon sun on the beach. He’ll see every blemish and scar. I wish I could
reach that damn light.

Wait. Where’d he go? “Dan?”

That was rude. I pull on my jeans and
open the door, but he’s gone. No actually, he’s not. My doorbell rings. He went
downstairs. Damn him.

I run down and look through my peephole.
Oh yes. Dark hair and maple-brown eyes that glow under my porch light.

“What are you doing?”

He places his arm against the door just
above his head and leans forward. In a hushed voice he whispers, “Let me be with
you tonight.”

I touch the door, wishing he could come
inside, wanting the wood under my fingers to be his flesh.

“Why did you sneak upstairs?” I ask.

“To watch you undress.”

His eyes close as if he’s envisioning my
naked figure. He’s taking off my clothes in his mind. I just know it.

“I haven’t admired a woman’s body in
almost a year.” His finger circles the peephole triggering chills that run down
my spine. I feel it. I can feel that finger circling my clit.

“Div,” he whispers. “Let me in. I want to
be deep, deep, inside.” His voice is so gentle, so sensual and erotic. “Do it
now. Reach down.”

He wants in. Not in my home, but in my
heart... and
other
places.

“When we ate dinner earlier and you were
inches away from me, I smelled carnations and chocolate on your body like it
was Valentine’s Day. I imagined going down on you; pushing my tongue inside
while my nose massaged your clit. Is that scent that radiates off of you
everywhere, even there?” he pauses and takes a deep breath. “I’ll find out soon
enough. I’ll be working my way down your neck, around your tits, circling your
stomach, and then my tongue will disappear, hidden within you... touch yourself
for me.”

I close my eyes and sigh, reaching down.
I have no problem with that.

His head rests on the door as he
continues in an arousing tone. Words of pleasure slither inside, expand in my
chest, and snake down to my fingers, which are circling the front of my jeans.

“That’s right. I know you want me. You
need my dick inside of you as much as it begs to be there, and once your soft,
wet hole is snug around it, I won’t be pulling out for hours. I’ll just lie
over you, not moving, not letting you come, just filling you with my flesh.”

I unbutton my jeans and set my fingers in
motion, in disbelief that my body has awakened. I’m alive. There’s wetness on
my fingers I haven’t felt in years.

“Touch yourself, Div. Give yourself to
me... be one with me.”

Shit, he’s good. I might be able to...
yes... it just might happen without porn, just from his words. This is so different
and exactly what I’ve been searching for.

“Once my hands are on your tits and you
experience my dick between your legs, you’ll beg for it every night. Now look
at me.”

I can’t. It’s hard to open my eyes when
I’m about to... oh my God...ouh.

My fingers rest deep between my inner
lips with my palm over my clit as I exhale and let out a mousey squeak.

“Perfect,” he whispers. “I believe that’s
the sound of a beautiful woman lost in the throes of fleeting pleasure.” He
takes deep breaths, with just the door separating our bodies. “As you feel that
delight wane under your fingers, slowly disappearing, fading, your pulse
decreasing to a normal beat... don’t be disappointed. It will come again. This
is only the beginning.”