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Authors: Nicole Conn

Elena Undone (25 page)

BOOK: Elena Undone
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Tyler looked at her then, and his head literally snapped into a vaudevillian double-take.

He jumped up and began to circle this new Elena, staring her up and down, his eyes virtually popping with surprise. He twirled her about, settled her, then stopped, shook his head.

“Okay, I’ll bite.” A big grin spread over his face. “So what’s with the shimmering new and improved you?”

“Oh God, Tyler.” She grabbed him in a deep and engulfing embrace, then walked him about his shop, gesturing all over his environment. “I just thought all this was a bunch of silly sappy—”

“Do tell.” He smirked victoriously.

“I just had the most earth-shattering sex of my life.”

Tyler looked impressed.

“With a woman!” Elena appeared as surprised as she did self-satisfied.

“Oh...baby girl!” Tyler literally burst into tears, so thrilled was he to hear that his friend, his dearest friend, finally had found some emotional nourishment.

“I’m in love for the first time—for the only time, Tyler, in my life.”

He waited.

“With Peyton.”

Tyler’s eyes brightened with delight as he picked her up and twirled her around, shrieking in ecstasy, “You’ve found your Twin Flame, my sweet wonderful friend.”

He held her in front of him, and emphatically stated it again: “Your Twin Flame.”

“It’s okay.” Elena’s smile was beyond containment. But a question of conscience flitted across her eyes. “Isn’t it?”

“Yes, my beautiful angel.” Tyler held her close. “It’s okay.”

 

*

 

It was late at night and Peyton was sitting in Wave’s living room. Wave poured another shot of scotch for both of them.

“I guess I never knew what the phrase ‘insanely in love’ really meant,” Peyton mooned. “Thank God she’s not a controlled substance.”

“Yeah, she’s far more dangerous,” Wave said, shaking her head at her friend. “You have clearly overlooked someblarlooked patently obvious issues, my love, and I don’t want to burst your love bubble—but what you are doing is the very definition of insanity: Gorgeous straight housewife, who’s never had sex with a woman—thinks she’s died and gone to heaven. Now what?”

Peyton sighed, again, pretty self-satisfied. “Oh my GOD. The way she tastes….smells, feels. You know me, Wave...I’ve always been a huge fan of…well, you know—”

“What—eating out, goin’ down, eatin’ pussy, chowin’ on the Vjay-jay, snackin’ on the kibbles & bits—you’re doin’ it for chrissakes and you can’t say it—will it make it better if it’s clinical? Oral sex?”

Peyton wasn’t going to let her friend ruin this for her. “I’m just sayin’—this goes beyond the beyond. I have to say I thought men were the only ones that went insane over women—really. I know that sounds utterly antifeminist, but making love to her goes beyond anything I could have imagined.”

“Brilliant. And now what? What about her husband? Her family? And forget the pressure she’s going to feel from the church—not to mention culturally. If she thinks her parents disowned her before—blimey girlfriend, what do you think they’ll do about all this?”

Peyton’s smile faded. “Can I just stay in my happy place for another second?”

“Happy place—yeah, the one where you two walk off into the sunset? No dead bodies strewn behind?”

“Now who’s Miss Gloom and Doom?” Peyton cracked. “What happened to me feeling good? Being happy?”

“Okay, my friend.” Wave picked up a piece of licorice, gnawed off a bite. “Let’s say she was brought into your life so you could know love is out there, to show you anything’s better than Marg-e-RAT, to help you heal…or all of the above.” Whipping the licorice about as a lectern prop, she became philosophical. “It’s possible that’s what this is. And that’s all she is. A sort of connective tissue to the next step. But if you bloody think this is going to be anything else, well, Peyton, then you’re just lying to yourself. And I can’t do that with you because you are my very best friend. You’re my acest pal. I can’t lie to you, or allow you to do so to yourself.”

“Okay now my happy place has a big foreclosure sign on it.” Peyton glared at her friend. “You happy now?”

Peyton got up and left the house.

Wave stared at the piece of licorice, then addressed it. “Well I tried.”

 

*

 

Peyton worked late into the night, keenly aware she was precariously close to missing her deadline. She realized that even though she spent half her time waiting for the brief moments of time she and Elena could steal away together, she had seriously let her work slide. She knew, if she were to be honest with herself wiwith he, that she was being consumed not just by the time she spent submerged into that rich and textured world she now referred to as “the bubble,” but worse yet, by all the many moments in which she unproductively waited for Elena to arrive to join her there. Lost moments, daydreaming, reliving, pondering the future—anything and everything but attending to her writing.

“I…I have just never had a moment when my head stops,” she’d confessed to Elena.

“What?” Elena had asked.

Elena’s beautiful hair cascaded over the length of Peyton’s stomach while Peyton lightly stroked her fingers through it. As much as Elena relished the chills the caressing sent through her body, unused to being so utterly pampered and so lovingly taken care of, Peyton equally relished the exquisite sensation of touching Elena, the way it burned the edge of her fingertips. She could literally feel the energy between Elena’s skin and her hand as she raised her palm just above the surface of Elena’s skin, feeling the current of desire, need, want, passion all in that space, the explosive charge of a mere touch unlike anything she had ever experienced.

“My head…my brain…it never shuts off,” Peyton mused, “except for when I’m with you. When we make love…it blots out. I’ve always wondered if that was even possible or what it might feel like—but with you, my mind literally goes blank, stops processing and my body takes over and feels.
Feels
, Elena.” Peyton looked deeply into Elena’s eyes. “You can’t even imagine how that is for me.”

Elena looked up into her lover’s eyes. “Well, I can’t say I entirely understand…all I know is that when I’m with you, I feel right. I feel absolutely right. Nothing has ever felt more right or certain to me.”

Peyton smiled now, thinking about this. Was it yesterday, two days ago? She couldn’t quite remember, as some of their hasty scramblings were beginning to mesh together in her mind. Every time it was a variation on the same theme. The moment they were in contact, they were unclothed, crazy greedy to get more of what neither of them could get enough of, tearing at each other, hunger, need, desire all overcoming anything in their path.

Last week Peyton had jumped when her phone rang, jarring her from her reminiscing.

“Hi, it’s me.”

“Hi…” Peyton had smiled.

“Is it...is it okay if I come over?”

“Of course!”

“Great, then let me in.”

“What?”

“I’m at the door.”

Peyton had dashed to the front door, and from the moment Elena forcefully made her way in, taking Peyton’s face in her hands, hungrily kissing her as she maneuvered her to="0vered h the chaise lounge, everything turned into this new place for Peyton, this place of sheer feeling.

And for Elena, the moment she laid eyes on Peyton, smelled Peyton’s cologne, touched her fingers to the soft skin of Peyton’s cheek, grasped the sinewy muscles of Peyton’s arms, Elena’s old life, her entire universe faded...all of it disappeared the moment she was in Peyton’s arms.

 

*

 

“…yeah, because Martin Luther was so blown away by the stars in the sky he decided to mimic those stars by bringing the ‘lights of the stars’ right into his own home. And that was like in the sixteenth century. I always wondered how this all started,” Tori mused as she and Nash, Barry and Elena were all trimming the Christmas tree. As usual, Tori was festively decked out; green skirt, green and red polka-dotted sweater and a Christmas tie, full of large “obnoxious Santas” Nash had groaned when he saw her. She had stuck out her tongue and put a Santa hat on Nash insisting he get into the spirit.

“You did, eh?” Barry asked her, helping the kids string the lights.

“Yeah, and while I was digging into it I found some other cool things, you might like to know.”

“Here we go,” Nash sighed, but good naturedly.

Elena went to the kitchen, still listening to their banter as she prepared their annual eggnog. Every year they played out this family ritual. They all had Elena’s famous eggnog while they trimmed the tree and then they would discuss the holidays and try to find the most interesting place they could plan to travel to for Barry’s annual vacation, which took place in late February.

As Elena brought the tray out she stopped. She watched the three of them, giggling, nudging one another playfully, and she suddenly felt terrified to hurt this family that she loved with every fiber of her being.

“Yeah, bet you don’t know what other amazing things happened on Christmas Day.”

“What’s more amazing than Santa?” Nash teased.

“Well, snooty face, tell me this…what do the twelve days of Christmas even stand for?”

“Shopping at the mall, wrapping presents, eating the best food of the year,” Nash answered unequivocally.

“Uh, not so much. So the song was created to help kids learn to count, ergo, counting down from twelve. But what it was originally about was the Christian tradition honoring the time the Wise Men arrived twelve days after Jesus was born, which made it all official like. And speaking of food, since that’s all you ever think about, plum pudding used to be a soup with, like, mutton, dried plums and beef all gooped up together.”

Nash rubbed his belly. “Ohh, tell me more.”

Tori nabbed a candy cane, unwrapped it, and taunted Nash with it. “And the candy cane was created by a German choirmaster all the way back in the sixteen hundreds—you know why?”

“Nope.”

“To keep young toddlers quiet,” she gently poked it into his mouth, “during services. First they were just straight stick candy. Only later did they curve them to mimic the shepherd’s staff in honor of the season. I know all you care about is getting out of school and getting a bunch of presents, but quite a few other things happened on Christmas Day. It also happened to be the same day King Arthur pulled Excalibur from the Stone, Hong Kong fell to the Japanese during World War Two and Charlemagne was crowned the Holy Roman Emperor.”

“Whoop-de-doo.” Laughing, Nash and Tori leaned into one another. “Only one important thing happens at Christmas and it’s this.” He grabbed Tori’s hand, led her to the mistletoe and gave her a sweet kiss.

Barry smiled, genuinely pleased.

She watched them, so happy, so completely content with their lives. This was her family. She was here. But not here. A chill ran up her spine in spite of the heavy red Christmas sweater she was wearing. She suddenly had never felt so empty or lonely in her life.

 

*

 

Peyton sat bundled in a deep teal sweater reading outside by the gazebo when her cell phone rang. She picked it up eagerly.

“Peyton I’m so sorry...I cannot believe this. Nash and Barry aren’t going to go golfing after all. I’ve…I can’t really leave. It would seem really strange that I’m not here. I’m…”

“Sure,” Peyton replied in disappointment, her voice tight. “Sure. No problem.”

Elena had rushed into the bedroom in her nightgown, sat at the far end of the bed to find some privacy to reach Peyton.

Peyton sat at the other end of the line, in the middle of an assignment, trying to sound casual. “Look, Elena, I know you have a crazy busy life. I do too. Don’t worry. It’s okay.”

“No, it is not okay,” Elena replied emphatically. “I know this is the third time I’ve had to cancel...but please know that it’s not okay. I want...” Elena looked around the small room, feeling like a caged animal. “I need to see you.”

Elena jumped when Barry opened the door, came up behind her.

“Yes, Millie, well I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow. ’Bye.” Elena quickly got off the call, tried to regain her composure as she nonchalantly set the phone on the dresser. Barry came over, leaned up against her. She moved out of his range, trying to put a couple of pieces of laundry away when he grabbed her by the arm and playfullifyand play toppled her upon the bed.

Their faces were very close. He leaned to kiss her, which she allowed to happen, because she could not think fast enough. But as she felt his lips, so unlike Peyton’s, so hard, nothing more than a mashing of skin that felt dead to her now, so unfeeling, and then Barry trying to pry her own open with his tongue, she had to push him away. She thought she might become physically sick, her heart racing. She abruptly sat up.

“Whoa…”

“I…I’m sorry—”

“What’s with you?”

“I...I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”

“Long day, right. You know what? We’re both busy—and we’re both tired.” His voice grew tight. “Maybe I’ve had a
long
day too.”

“I…I just really don’t feel very well.”

Barry looked at Elena and then gently put a hand to her forehead as if to see if she were running a fever, then let his hand rest on her shoulder. He smiled sweetly. “Hey, don’t worry about it. You have been doing too much. You need to get some rest.”

She smiled bleakly.

“Good thing I’m not the jealous type.” Barry grinned. “Yep. That’s one thing I’ve never had to worry about.”

Barry rubbed her arm absently, as if already thinking about something else. “Hey babe, I really need for you to look over my speech for the fundraiser. Do you think you could do that a little later? Or even first thing tomorrow morning? And don’t forget, you’re meeting with Millie Tuesday.” He mindlessly kissed her arm. “You know what? I’m really bushed too.”

Barry got up, walked into the bathroom. “And make sure you get my blue suit into the dry cleaners tomorrow,” he called. “You keep forgetting it,” he yelled and then closed the door.

Elena sighed, rubbing her forehead. She glanced around the room. It could have been a locked cage. She was trapped.

 

*

 

The next day, the very first moment she could, Elena sped to Peyton’s.

Peyton opened the door, they fell into one another’s arms, Peyton took her to the bedroom and made love to her quickly, aggressively, Elena matching Peyton’s ardor, each kiss rougher, more agonizing than the next.

Elena rasped Peyton’s name as she came, hard, as hard as she had ever come, more intensely than she ever had, and pulling Peyton to her, she tried to return this pleasure, this unbridled pleasure she could not believe she had not known could exist until tthaxist unhis late in life. But as she attempted to do go down on her, Peyton moved on top of her, holding her down, grinding the gorgeous swell of flesh, feeling the softness of her hair against her own, Peyton’s body, sweaty, entwined with her own as she ground into her, bruising, a rhythm aggressive and exotic, Elena feeling her desire grow as Peyton’s breath became more ragged.

“Elena…ohh…fuck...” A whisper plaintive in her ear, as Peyton’s neck strained into an arch with the pleasure of coming, her throaty voice strangled in ecstasy as she came, and then came again, riding her as Elena held her with one arm, teased her nipple with her other hand, willing Peyton to come again, and when Peyton did she felt her release, felt her body seizing in pleasure, rippling over her, as Peyton choked out a final orgasm, her arms trembling as she collapsed upon her, sobbing in a sort of liberated aftermath, as Elena heard Peyton whisper her name over and over again, and Elena lived for that voice…that tender love-wracked voice in her ear…

An hour later, Peyton’s face was buried between Elena’s legs, trying to hold Elena off for as long as she could, teasing her, taunting her, Elena finally screaming, “Now…please….please, Peyton,” and as Peyton moved up to her, and began thrusting into her, slowly at first and then with deeper strokes Elena began to come in a way she never could have imagined, from every source imaginable, her body moving into a kind of rapture she could not have conceived of before.

When Elena could open her eyes, when she could focus on light, and shadow, and depth, when she was fully back in a three-dimensional world, she gazed at Peyton, her eyes filled with love, gratitude, wonder…the emotions raw and exposed.

“How can your fingers feel so goddamn much better than a penis?”

Peyton rolled over, taking Elena in. She arched an eyebrow and then responded very slowly and sexily, “And how can you taste so fucking good?”

Elena smiled.

“Cunt,” Peyton purred…and then with real desire, “cunt….” And then lacing it with an even raspier sexuality, “Cuuuuunnnnt.”

“Honestly.” Elena giggled, but blushed, a bit embarrassed.

“Elena, I know you have no frame of reference for this…” Peyton adjusted her body so that they were still as entwined as possible, but so that she could see clearly into Elena’s face, “and while I hate to admit that I’ve been around the block a few more times than I should have been...I just have to tell you—the way you taste, feel, smell—you make the term cunt beautiful. I’ve always loathed that word and felt it belonged right up there with all the other pejorative terms men use to demean women. But, seriously, Elena…there is nothing more delicious, more delectable, more exquisite than your cunt—which has in and of itself, removed years of damage from my psyche…and restored this much maligned word to a place of honor!”

As Peyton proceeded to go down on her lover, Elena laughed so freely at an idea and concept that had always caused her such intense shame, laughed with abandon and celebration.
oftion.

 

*

 

“So, how’s that whole adoption thing going for you?” Wave asked as they shared a glass of wine outside under Peyton’s gazebo.

“Oh…well, you know,” Peyton answered, evasively.

“I know what? That you’ve turned into a love zombie and nothing else in the world seems to matter, not me, your dearest friend, your work—or the fact that the only thing you’ve pined for the past few years is a child?”

“Okay.” Peyton nodded, defenseless. “The truth is, both Elena and I discussed the whole notion of adopting right now and felt it was better to put baby plans on hold while...while this is—”

“—is going where?” Wave asked. “Until you’ve burnt one another to a crisp with passion and you are no longer capable of tending children? Or until you’ve run off to have children together? Or…”

“You know what? It’ll happen when it happens, Wave.” Peyton knew her tone had grown testy, but the fact of the matter was that it was Peyton whose plans had been put on hold. She really had no idea what Elena was going to do. While she hadn’t lied to Wave about the fact that they had discussed the bizarre coincidence of meeting at the adoption center, and that neither of them had made great headway down that path, the reality was that Peyton had no idea what Elena’s plans were for children in the future. Any conversation along those lines had been cut short by more pressing needs, meaning being with one another.

Now Peyton sat reading. Wave had left and Peyton could not help but replay the conversation over and over, her OCD rearing its omnipresent head and only reprieved when her phone rang. She picked it up right away, expectant. But as she heard the tone in Elena’s voice, the joy quickly faded.

“...God, I so badly want to see you.” Elena sounded distraught.

“Hey it’s okay…it’s okay.”

“No. It isn’t.”

Long silence.

“Nash is coming.”

Click.

Peyton looked at the phone. This had now become a way of life.

 

*

 

Elena tuned out Barry’s sermon, as she had every sermon for the past several months, the sermons seeming more and more interminable. At first all she did was obsess about how to manipulate every minute of her day to get to Peyton. All that mattered was being with Peyton. If she could not be with this woman for whom she created contortion upon contortion,="b contor racking up white lies a mile long, letting so many things slip through the cracks to make it happen, she feared that someone could put a gun to her head and she would gladly have the trigger pulled. She used the lie that was easiest, constantly telling Barry and the kids that she was “working.” Working on the project. Having meetings for the project. Long brainstorming sessions, and because they had done enough research before they had come together like a thunderous collision, Elena had enough interesting information to make most of her deceitfulness ring true. She had one goal and only one goal. Finding time to be with Peyton. And when that happened, all that mattered to her was being inside their bubble, being completely wrapped up in her. And afterward to relive over and over every moment, her mind replaying lovemaking as Barry droned on in the background.

But for the past few weeks, her mind had gone to a darker place. The world in which she lived was no longer orderly and predictable, it was fissured and full of semitruths; the falsehoods that so easily tumbled from her lips could no longer be counted as white lies. She was telling bolder untruths about where she had been and what she was up to. She hadn’t allowed this element—the fact that she was committing adultery—play into what she was doing until a couple of weeks ago when she had walked into the house, just moments after having the most extremely intense sex with Peyton, and as she opened the door, still smelling of Peyton, she ran headlong into her son. The look of surprise, not just at their near collision, but the confusion in his eyes as he studied his mother, completely undid her.

“Where…where have you been? I’ve been waiting for you for the past hour.”

“What…”

“My coach’s retirement party?”

It had completely slipped her mind.

“Where have you
been?
” Nash demanded. “And why do you look like that? You look like you’ve…fallen down a hill or something.”

“I…I got in a bit of scrape...caught my skirt in the car door,” Elena replied lamely.

“Well, can you pull yourself together so I don’t miss the whole party?” Nash’s voice was full of hurt and at the same time held the demanding tones of someone who knew he was in the right.

“Yes, of course sweetie…just give me a moment…I’ll get…put some makeup on. Get in the car—I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“God, Mom,” Nash sighed as she darted to the bedroom, “what’s with you lately?”

 

*

 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t call you earlier,” Elena grieved. It was much later and she was calling from the living room. Everyone was asleep. “Look…I know I told you I would find a way to get over there tomorrow, but I think I need to lie low for a few days. Nash is starting to watch my every move…and…well...” Elena didn’t know what else to say.e to saont>

Peyton waited and then asked what both lived inside their minds, daily.

“How long do you think we can keep doing this, Elena?”

BOOK: Elena Undone
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