Goddess (13 page)

He put down his fork. “You couldn’t be more cynical about relationships than I’ve been. I gave up believing they can last. I know I’ve hurt people because of that.”

I met his eyes, which had taken on a darker hue. “I don’t expect or even want this relationship to last forever. I need to explore something about myself, about my sexuality. I need to learn what the tattoo on my ankle means. I’m hoping you can help me find some answers, nothing more.”

He stood and I thought he might move to kiss me. Instead, he stepped to the refrigerator. “First, I suggest we have dessert.”

He opened the freezer. “Close your eyes,” he instructed me.

I obeyed reluctantly. A few moments later, I felt him standing before me. “Open your mouth.”

I felt a small spoon slip between my lips. My taste buds immediately rejoiced at the rich, cold, creamy chocolate flavor. “Gelato.” I said. “Did you make it yourself?”

I opened my eyes. His blue eyes felt like twin oceans beckoning to me. “Giovanni was a man of many talents.” He scooped another morsel out of the small bowl he held in his hand.

“So are you,” I said as the sensual treat melted on my tongue.

His gaze made my remaining apprehension and guilt soften. I wanted to be here. I wanted to be with him. He set the bowl on the counter. I stood. He took me in his arms and kissed me gently, long and deep, savoring me like a delectable dessert. His tongue reached out and made a slow circle around mine. He reached under my blouse, his strong hands caressing my back. I raised my arms so he could lift my top over my head, revealing a black lace bra underneath.

He knelt down before me, kissing my stomach. As his tongue traced a slow revolution around my navel, I felt as if I was dissolving into a puddle on the floor. His tongue moved lower, making a semi-circle just above my pelvis. The tingle in my clitoris became an excruciating ache.

“Ashland,” I moaned.

I realized he was standing again, gazing at me. “Come upstairs,” he said. He took my hand, but he didn’t lead me. He was waiting for me to acquiesce. I leaned forward and kissed him. I was ready to let go of reason.

I followed him up the stairs, watching his bare feet mount the steps in front of me. When we reached the top, he took me by the hand. The floorboard announcing my presence that first night creaked under my footstep, sending a wild rush of sensory anticipation through my veins. He led me past his office, down to the end of the hall. We stepped into his bedroom. I was vaguely aware of curtains pulled across French doors and a dormant fireplace at the far end of the room.

I kicked off my shoes and then we were kissing again. This time it was my tongue that found his, probing him, reaching, discovering. I barely realized that my bra had fallen to the floor. The sensation of his hand cupping my breast sent a surge of sexual energy through me. It was too late for guilt or doubt. I could no longer hold myself in check. I tugged at the fine fabric of his shirt, freeing it from his pants. I unbuttoned it slowly, revealing a physique that had been sculpted in the real world, not the artificial environment of a gym. I kissed his chest, enjoying the sensation of masculine hair against my cheek. I playfully took one of his nipples between my teeth and bit down gently. “Oh, god, Julia. I want to be inside you so badly.”

He guided me gently to the bed and sat me down there. I watched him unhook his belt and let his pants drop to the floor, revealing black boxers with a telltale bulge that promised so much. I lay down on his thick down comforter. He unbuttoned my jeans and slid them down to my feet, letting them drop to the floor. For an instant, I thought of how many women he had brought up here, how many had lain here like this, but with bodies that had never known pregnancy or middle age metabolism.

He was looking at me, taking me in, and I could see nothing but desire behind those blue eyes. He wasn’t trying to pretend I wasn’t forty-four years old. In fact, he seemed to be appreciating it. “You’re an amazing woman,” he uttered.

He reached out and took hold of my panties, black lace like my bra, and gently removed them. He peeled off his own underwear, revealing a magnificently proportioned cock. He spread my legs apart. I thought he was going to enter me immediately. I was about to object, not because I wasn’t ready for him, but because, even in my aroused state, I remembered we needed protection.

Instead, he gently moved my pelvis to the foot of the bed and kneeled before me again. I smiled to myself because I really did feel like a goddess. His tongue and lips continued the journey they had begun in the kitchen, moving first to just above my navel, then tracing an indirect path down my stomach to my thighs. I spread my legs wider as he worked his way around my throbbing clit. I thought I was going to cry out, not just from pleasure, but also from the wonderful frustration of having his tongue so close to my pleasure center.

He ran the tip of his tongue up and down my labia. Then it wandered upwards in a tantalizingly slow motion dance until it reached my clitoris. I stiffened; it was almost too much pleasure to bear, but he continued to draw me further into ecstasy, focusing first on my hood, touching his tongue lightly to it and then moving away, only to return again.

“Ashland,” I moaned. “Please…” I didn’t need to clarify the request. It felt as if he was totally in tune with my body and its needs. His tongue danced to the head of my clit, first pressing gently, then more firmly against it, moving rapidly up and down, back and forth. Every cell in my body was focused on that one spot, rushing in to be part of the bliss.

And then, with little warning, I was cumming. He kept his tongue moving deftly as my orgasm exploded again and again. I forgot about the world; I was focused only on myself, my pleasure, my needs. “Oh, god, Ashland, oh yes.” I didn’t care if the neighbors or the whole world heard me. I was completely lost in the moment.

I collapsed on the bed, spent. The energy that had surged through me had been drained. I opened my eyes to discover Ashland next to me. His eyes told me what he wanted next. I immediately felt reenergized at the thought. I reached for his ready cock, holding it firmly. “I want you,” I whispered.

He reached over and opened a drawer on his nightstand, pulling out a familiar square package. “So they still make those,” I joked.

“After we’ve been tested I hope we won’t need them anymore.”

I nodded, acknowledging to both of us that there was going to be a next time, and perhaps many times more. I had taken a large step across a line I wasn’t supposed to cross and I knew it would be difficult to retreat from it.

He tore open the package and slipped the condom out, deftly unrolling it onto his engorged penis. I pushed the comforter off the bed, worried about stains, and lay back on the soft, inviting sheets.

He climbed onto the bed so that he was on his knees, facing me. I spread my legs again, inviting him in. He reached down, grasping his cock by the base, and rubbed the head against my saturated lips. Still on his knees, he scooped up a pillow from the head of the bed and slipped it under me so I could receive him.

In one confident motion, he slipped his cock into me. I was overwhelmed at first by the feeling of being filled so completely. He waited a moment, allowing me to adjust, never taking his eyes from mine.

He moved slowly at first; I could see in his face that he was totally absorbed in the sensation of being inside me. I reached up and grabbed his muscular hips, urging him to go deeper. He complied. It felt as if he was touching a place that had long been dormant and almost forgotten. He leaned over and kissed me, and I eagerly sought his tongue again.

Time dissolved into a delirious stream of pleasurable sensations. I became aware that his rhythm had increased and of something bubbling up deep inside me. We moved our hips together at a perfect tempo. He took both my legs and lifted them, resting them on his broad shoulders. Whether it was because of his size or something more intangible, perhaps even spiritual, I felt I had never had a man penetrate me so deeply. He was tapping a well of desire that had never been touched before.

My orgasm came bubbling up out of that place, like boiling water bursting to the surface. His own pace quickened, his muscles tightened, and his face took on a blissful urgency.

I came, releasing a moan of pleasure. He followed almost immediately, letting out his own, more guttural exclamation. It was good to be cautious, but I wished I could feel his semen inside me.

We stayed in the same position for a while, not wanting it to end. Finally, he withdrew from me, slipped the condom off, tied it, and tossed it into a trashcan. Then he lay beside me, cradling me in his arms. “That was everything I imagined it would be,” he whispered into my ear as he stroked my hair.

“It still feels so strange,” I confessed, our faces inches apart.

“I know,” he said gently.

“I feel like I haven’t thought this through. How does this work? I mean, do we just get together every once in a while, or is there going to be more to our relationship?”

“Julia,” he replied in a tone that gave me all the answers I really needed, “it works in whatever way is best for you. I’m just happy to be with you.”

CHAPTER 9

I lay naked in a strange bed with a man, also naked, who was not my husband.

He was pressed up against the length of me. His breath pushed stray strands of hair against my ear, tickling me when he exhaled. I could feel his heart beat a steady, calm rhythm. Once again, I had lost track of time. Had it been 10 minutes or two hours since I had followed him up the stairs, making this momentous decision based on what? A man’s looks, his charisma, his talent at making gelato? Or was it because I wanted to believe that I was a Magoan goddess?

But there was another part of me that felt sure this was where I should be. My senses were charged, attuned to my surroundings. I heard the soothing tick of an antique clock in another room. I could pick up the hint of Ashland’s alluring, masculine scent. His skin was warm and satisfying. My own body felt heavy and satiated, sinking deep into the mattress as if it were a warm pool of water.

But the voice was still there, strident and persistent.
You’ve crossed a line. You’ve leapt off a cliff
.
Inevitably, you’re going to hit the ground.

I remembered that I left my phone downstairs. What time was it? Isabelle might be texting me
. Where are you, Mrs. N.? What are you doing?

“Ashland?”

“Yes?” His voice was a gentle whisper in my ear.

“I need to get home.”

“I understand.”

I slipped out of his embrace. The room was dim, lit only by a light coming from the hallway. I fumbled around on the floor for my underwear. Finally locating them, I stood naked, my back to him. I could feel his eyes on me. It made me uncomfortable. As I slipped on my panties, I couldn’t resist the urge to peek at him out of the corner of my eye. He was stretched the length of the bed, comfortable in his own nakedness. His long, muscular body would be the envy of much younger men. His eyes were alight with the pleasure of gazing at me. His cock was magnificently alert. It made me want to slip back into his bed and start all over again.

It made me feel like a goddess.

~*~

“You took the iPad.”

“I didn’t.”

“Where did you put it?”

“I don’t know!”

“Ha, so you admit you took it.”

Anna and Mackenzie were faced off in the living room, fighting the never-ending battle for electronic dominance.

“Mom,” Anna pleaded as soon as she saw me in the doorway, “tell Mackenzie to give me the iPad.”

“You should both be asleep,” I countered. ‘Where’s Isabelle?”

“Upstairs,” Anna informed me, “conked out on my bed. Why are you so late?”

I had arrived home two hours later than planned. Avoiding Anna’s question, I went upstairs to wake Isabelle and found Lily’s door open, her room quiet and empty. “Where’s Lily?” I called down the stairs.

“I don’t know,” came the answer from Anna. I pulled out my phone and discovered a text I hadn’t noticed before.
Getting a ride home. Will be late.
I felt a twinge of guilt; she must have sent it while Ashland and I…

I heard a car pull up outside. I stepped quickly into the master bedroom, leaving the light off so I could look out the window at the street below.

An SUV was parked out front, engine idling. It looked expensive—a BMW or Mercedes maybe. I could see Lily’s outline in the passenger seat, turned towards the driver, who wasn’t visible.

They sat there for a long time. I could occasionally see the glow of a cell phone; either one of them was sending or receiving a text, or they were sharing something on their screens. I thought maybe it was one of her girlfriends, though I didn’t know the car. Then I saw Lily lean in and casually kiss the driver.

I stepped back from the window when Lily opened the car door. A moment later, I heard the front door open.

I rousted Isabelle, who apologized profusely while searching for her phone in Anna’s bed covers. When we went downstairs, all three girls were squished together on one upholstered chair, laughing uproariously at something on the iPad.

“Hi, Lily,” I said.

She barely looked up. “Hi, Mom. Oh, hey, Isabelle.” I paid Isabelle and walked her to the door, locking it for the night. When I returned to the living room, the girls were still in the same position. Whatever they were watching had a loud, cartoonish soundtrack. I observed them from the edge of the room, not wanting to disturb this rare sisterly camaraderie. Lily was in the middle, with Mackenzie practically sitting on her lap. Anna, holding the iPad, lay her head against Lily’s shoulder. Isn’t this what humans longed for when they paired off—family, children, glorious domestic bliss? Isn’t this why we stayed married and put up with the strife, the anxiety, the feelings of loss?

Late that night, after finally convincing the girls to go to bed, I lay restlessly under my own covers. There was no spider on the ceiling tonight. My sense of inertia was gone. I was alone with my racing thoughts. I knew the morning would inevitably shatter this perfect moment into a thousand shards, but tonight I was enjoying the feeling of bliss. My girls were happy and loved one another, I was making a contribution to society that I was actually getting paid for, and… yes, I was immersed in the sensation of being desired. I could still feel Ashland’s eyes on me, admiring my naked body. He wanted me and I wanted him. I wanted him in this bed, inside me, right now.

I’m going to see him again.
I felt as certain of it as Ferreira was of his god. The question wasn’t if, but when.

~*~

The next morning I took longer than usual to get dressed, choosing a skirt and blouse that were nicer than my usual jeans and sweatshirt. I didn’t know if I would see him but I wanted to look good just in case.

When I went downstairs, I discovered that Lily had already left for school. I was both relieved and disappointed. I knew I needed to broach the boyfriend subject again soon. It sounded old fashioned, but Matt and I both thought it was important to know whom she was seeing.

As soon as Anna and Mackenzie were off to school, I called Van. “Well?” she said, not even bothering with a hello.

“Well what?” I teased.

“Stop being cruel.”

“We did it.”

“You naughty girl. And how was he?”

“Amazing.”

“All right, sista. When are you seeing him again?”

“I don’t know. We didn’t make plans.” I felt as giddy as a teenager. “Soon, I hope.”

“Well, aren’t you the eager beaver?”

“My beaver needs a little rest. It’s still sore from last night.”

~*~

I practically danced to campus. Walking this tightrope of anticipation and uncertainty that I hadn’t felt since my single days made me joyfully on edge. I happened to spot the blonde and redhead students I had run into several weeks ago. They stared at me oddly when I shouted a hearty “Good morning!” to them. I suppressed the desire to tell them about my “gentleman caller.”

When I stepped into the library lobby, Caroline immediately noticed my buoyant mood. She smiled broadly from behind her computer screen. “You must be having a good morning,” she remarked.

“I’m just ready to get to work.”

Caroline went in back to retrieve the journal. I carried it to my table, pausing for a moment to contemplate the spot where Ashland had first brought me to orgasm. It was going to be difficult to concentrate today, but I wanted to press ahead in the journal. Everything felt more vital, more meaningful. Great sex can do that to you.

So can falling in love.

I immediately squashed the thought. I barely knew the man; I certainly didn’t love him. I wanted to fuck him, nothing more.

I sat down in my usual spot, slipped on the gloves, and opened the journal to where I had left off in my translation. There, tucked between the pages, was a small piece of paper folded into a neat triangle. Curious and confused, I opened it. There was a single, perfect red rose petal inside, along with two words written in a cursive I immediately recognized:
Thank you.

He couldn’t send flowers the conventional way so he had done this instead. Ashland Stewart was as adept at romantic gestures as he was at lovemaking. I immediately pulled out my phone and texted him.

My pleasure,
I wrote.

A minute later he texted me back.
Breakfast tomorrow?

Yes,
I responded.

I forced myself to focus on my work, translating several pages describing Ferreira’s attempts to convert the villagers who flocked to him and the noblemen who invited the strange foreigner into their homes. I felt sorry for him, convincing himself that their interest was a sign of God’s guiding hand.

An hour before I was due to head home, I translated a passage that made my hand shake with excitement.

At the last village, an old man told a strange tale of a city high in the mountains. It was once a beautiful, ribald place, where the men were yoked to wanton women and sin was most hedonistically practiced. I prayed for two days. Then, in a dream, the Lord spoke to me. He told me to journey to this city that rivals Sodom and Gomorrah in its sinfulness. The people there must be told the Good News and repent of their evil deeds.

I sat back in my chair and took a deep breath. My translation was rough but it was accurate enough. Could Brother Ferreira be referring to Magoa? I picked up my phone and called Ashland.

“That’s fantastic, Julia,” he said after I read him my translation. “I’ll understand if you want to keep working on it tomorrow morning.”

“Don’t force me to make that decision. You’re the boss.”

“All right then. I’ll have to insist on pleasure before business.”

“I’m surprised. That’s not the Ashland Stewart I thought I knew.”

“I’m not the Ashland Stewart I thought I knew.”

~*~

When I arrived home, I found Lily’s door closed. I knocked softly. “What?” came her semi-annoyed voice.

“Can I talk to you?”

“About what?”

“Just open the door please.”

I waited a minute until Lily’s door opened a crack. She was dressed in sweats, her hair up, her fingernails partially painted a soft shade of mauve. She frowned at me. “What is it?”

“Was that Chase who dropped you off last night?”

“What does it matter?”

“I’m not going to tell you whom to date, as long as he’s within reason,” I said calmly, “but your dad and I do need to meet him so we know you’re safe.”

Lily turned and walked back to her bed, leaving the door open. I knew this was an unspoken invitation for me to enter, I assumed because she didn’t want her sisters to hear this conversation. She sat on the floor cross-legged, surrounded by a rainbow of fingernail polish bottles. I pulled up her desk chair. Her room was whimsically decorated with leopard prints and photos of her friends. “You know kids don’t date anymore. That was your generation,” Lily informed me, resuming her manicure. “We just hang out.”

“I’ve also know that kids just hook up too, which is what I’m mostly worried about.”

“Mom.” She rolled her eyes to hide her embarrassment. “I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

“I know. But even smart people make mistakes.”

She looked up at me. “I won’t. I promise.”

I smiled at her. Lily was a good kid, even if she was more difficult than average. “How about inviting him over this weekend?”

“Maybe.”

“Okay. Thanks, Lily.” I watched her as she returned to her task. Assuming the conversation was over, I got up to leave.

“Who would be unreasonable?” she asked.

I turned back to her. “What?”.

“You said a boyfriend had to be ‘within reason’.”

“Someone who was abusive, or on drugs, or drank.”

“Or like a 40-year-old married guy?”

I stared at her, unable to speak. Finally I said, “Chase isn’t 40 years old and married, is he?”

She rolled her eyes. “Gross, Mom.”

~*~

The rain let loose shortly after I left the house. It pummeled the Prius’s windshield and turned the streets to raging rivers. The wipers worked frantically, unable to keep up with the deluge.

I pulled into the open garage behind Ashland’s house. He had made a spot for me so my car wouldn’t be on the street. I saw him in my rearview mirror, running to me carrying an oversized umbrella. Despite it, he was soaked by the time he reached the garage. I didn’t care. I immediately fell into his arms and kissed his moist lips. “Do you want to wait until it lets up?” he shouted over the wind and rain.

“I don’t know you well enough to have sex in your garage,” I joked.

He smiled and kissed me again. He held the umbrella high enough for us both to be covered.

We ran together to his back door, his strong arm wrapped around me. He tried to open it for me but it didn’t budge. “Damnit,” he said, “I must have locked myself out.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “You’re ruining your reputation as a man always in control of a situation.”