Heartless (23 page)

“Mmmmm…. I am.”

“Really?” He broke the moment and I had to giggle.

“Yes, Josh. I’m extremely wet, and my fingers are sliding along my outer lips, spreading these juices all over this soft swollen skin…” I could hardly believe what I was saying. What had gotten into me? Beach-girl, that’s who. She said,
Hey, it’s fun isn’t it?

“Heather, what are you doing
now
?”

“Ooohh… I found my sweet spot.” My breath caught and I gasped a little. “Oh, Oh.. Ohhhh.” I circled that spot with my wet, soft fingertips.

In a husky voice, Josh said, “I know that spot. Imagine my tongue there, flicking and sucking. Can you feel it? I’m drinking you up.”

My finger was swirling to its own rhythm. The thought of Josh’s mouth on me had just rocketed my desire to a whole new level. I let my knees fall open. My fingers toyed with my clit and then slid lower, circling around my opening. I slid one finger inside, just an inch. I hadn’t wanted Josh to do that the other night, but I would want him to eventually, so I was determined to practice, to ready myself for him.

I gasped, remembering I needed to keep up a play by play. “My fingers—your tongue—are all over me now. So hot…. So slippery and delicious. You want to go inside. I
want
you there. Ah, ah, aahhh…” My finger slid in to the second knuckle. “Oh, Josh, you’re there. You’re inside now.”

“Heather, I’m stroking hard and fast, imagining myself there, inside you. I can’t help it… You’re so sweet, so soft…I want to come…”

I twisted my finger this way and that, imagining it was Josh. I wanted to put the phone down so I could use my other hand, but I wanted to stay connected with him, too. My hips were rocking against my finger, the heel of my palm rubbed against my clit, but it wanted more focused attention. I slipped my finger out and massaged my clit with three fingers. Oh, boy, I would be a goner in a few seconds.

“Josh…?”

“Huh…Yeah?” He was panting, too.

“I’m imagining you thrusting inside me.”

He moaned.

“And my clit is so hot. I have to rub it hard to cool it down. I’m rubbing hard and fast, swirling and rubbing,…oh, Josh, it feels sooo good…”

“Heather, I…” I heard a sharp intake of breath. “I can’t…I’m about to…Oh… Ahhhhh!!”

Over the edge I went, listening to Josh as he came. “Oh, yeah,” I whispered. And then I heard a high-pitched moan escape my lips, but it was if it was from someone else. I was so deep in the experience of my body, the sharp exquisite pleasure emanating from my clit. I was whimpering now, sighing happily.

“Oh, man, Heather. Oh man.” His heavy breath seemed to swirl from the phone and envelope me in an embrace. I was a sopping trembling mess, but hot and happy, still vibrating from my orgasm.

I heard Josh laughing lightly. “Wow, I’m covered. It’s all over the place. Wow, not at all what I was expecting when I picked up the phone.”

“Mmmmm…” I was still floating in my post-orgasmic bubble. “So yummy,” I murmured.

“Heather, that was amazing. I’ve never done that before.”

“Me neither,” I said, wallowing in a puddle of my own pleasure.

“Wow,” Josh said again. “Amazing… Listen, I have to get myself cleaned up here. Want me to call you later?”

I had to wipe up, too, but I guessed I didn’t have nearly the job that Josh had. “What time is it?” I asked.

“Nine-ish. Can I call you back in a few minutes?”

“I have to call my aunt and uncle in Europe. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

We could share a secret smile when Leo wasn’t looking.

“Okay. Sure. And Heather?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for sharing that with me.”

“My pleasure. Literally.”

“I can’t wait until our weekend away together.”

“Me neither.”

“Sweet dreams.”

“You, too.”

I hung up and then went upstairs to rinse off quickly in the shower. After throwing away that box and sharing that intimate sex call with Josh, I felt cleansed and refreshed even without the shower. But now that I was soaped and rinsed, I felt stronger and lighter than I’d ever felt before. I knew I was finally getting better. I was beginning to feel it in every cell of my body.

I threw on my robe, went downstairs, and flipped open the lap top.

I was surprised to see Wayne's face appear first in the Skype window.

"Hey Uncle Wayne, where's Marsh?"

He grinned, looking all around the screen. I guessed he was marveling at the technology. He looked tanned and healthy.

"She's here. Just in the bathroom. She's not feeling that well."

"Oh, no. Anything serious?"

Marsha appeared over Wayne's shoulder. She looked quite a bit paler than him, and tired.

"Hi sweetie," said Marsha. Her words were almost a sigh.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?"

The last thing I was ready for was getting myself better just in time for Marsha to fall ill.

"I'm fine, don't worry. Just a stomach bug.”

"We've been eating lots seafood, could be that," said Wayne. “Want to sit down, honey?" Wayne ducked out of the screen and Marsha took his place. She smiled at me.

"You look great, Heather. Any news?"

"Same old, same old, I guess…" Then I broke into a wide grin. “Remember that guy I told you about?”

Marsha's face lit up. "The carpenter guy? You two are an item?”

I nodded, smiling like a fool. "But you have to promise not to say anything to Leo. Josh would get into so much trouble. He's not allowed to get personal with clients."

"The reno must almost be done though?"

"Soon. I think they're waiting on that new fangled oven you ordered. Then there's some painting to do."

Marsha grimaced and closed her eyes for a moment.

"Are you all right?" I said.

She nodded. "Just another wave of nausea. It should pass in about 24 hours."

Wayne’s hands entered the screen and squeezed Marsha's shoulders.

"Might be a rest day for you, hon."

She turned her gaze up to him. "But the Sistine Chapel…"

"We'll go tomorrow."

"Listen to Wayne, Aunt Marsha. Take it easy today."

"Listen to you, Heather. I haven't heard that nurturing side of you since…"

I was pretty sure she was going to say, since before the Tragedy. I looked down at the keyboard for a second but I didn't feel that dizzying pull to the past like I used to feel it when references were made or hinted at.

"Miranda's said I'm making fast progress. Leaps and bounds apparently."

Marsha beamed. I saw color return to her cheeks and the tightness around her eyes relaxed. I realized how much she'd been worrying about me all these years.

“These weeks on your own has been good for you then?"

I smiled and nodded. “And, except for today, this trip's been good for you guys, hasn't it?"

Wayne leaned in and kissed Marsha's cheek. "It's been amazing. And it will continue to be if my loveliness gets herself better."

"All right, you two,” said Marsha. “I’ll nap and rest this morning but I won't promise not to go out on the piazza later."

"For a little walk and fresh air," said Wayne. "I want you all better for when we go to Venice, honey."

"Two more weeks left?" I asked.

"Two weeks and 3 days," Wayne corrected.

“I’m sorry we won’t be home to celebrate your birthday,” said Marsha.

“That’s okay. Josh wants to do something.”

Wayne leaned in. “Who’s Josh?”

"She's got a boyfriend now, Wayne,” said Marsha proudly.

Wayne looked suddenly flustered. "What? I want to meet this guy. Who gave you permission to date, young lady?"

Marsha and I laughed. "Wayne," we said in unison. He smiled, too, but still looked worried.

“Is Brian keeping an eye on you like I asked him?”

I rolled my eyes. "I didn’t know he had a pit bull side to him. Kind of like you Uncle Wayne.”

“I still want to meet this Josh when we get home," said Wayne.

“He wants to meet you, too, actually.”

Marsha looked impressed. “I’ll look forward to that."

I yawned. "Your day might be just beginning but mine is coming to an end. I should get some sleep so I don't invite Brian's ire."

“Okay. Happy early Birthday, Heather-bear,” said Marsha. “What do you think you and Josh will do to celebrate?”

Given Wayne's reaction, I decided not to give details about my upcoming weekend.

“I don’t know yet. We’ll see.”

I yawned again. "Gotta sleep now."

"You go, sweetie," said Marsha. "I'll lay down for a bit myself."

"I love you, guys." They glanced at each other, surprised. Had I never told them that before?

"We love you, too, sweetie," they said at the same time, smiling.

"Night."

"Sweet dreams."

I clicked on the red hang-up button and put the lap top to sleep. I was next. And I had a feeling that tonight I really would have sweet dreams.

I felt a hundred times lighter when I woke up the next morning. Every bird’s song was a symphony, the blue of the sky was a jewel to my eyes, the summer dress I chose for work felt like silk against my skin, and when Leonardo let himself in, his voice ringing, “Bonjourno, Bellisima!” made me feel all bubbly inside.

Josh did a double take when he saw me, and he lingered by the stairs after Leo headed into the kitchen whistling some Italian tune.

“You look amazing. Is that from last night?” said Josh, his expression bemused.

“Mostly.”

I was sure it was a combo of letting go and letting in. Letting go of the box from the past and letting Josh deeper into my heart.

He chuckled. “Whatever the reason, you seem to be glowing.” He leaned toward my cheek to give me a kiss.

“Josh-
ua
!”

He froze in mid-pucker, but Leo had only called loudly from the kitchen. He hadn’t seen us. With lightning speed, Josh’s lips grazed my ‘glowing’ cheek. It was my turn to chuckle.

“Thankfully, we’re nearly done this job,” said Josh. “Some finishing carpentry, some clean up and then, soon, no more sneaking around.”

“That will be a relief.” I really wanted to give him another kiss, but had to hold back.

“Later, Gorgeous?” he whispered, backing his way to the kitchen.

I swiveled my hips, batted my eyelashes, and blew him a kiss.

“Yes, much
more
later.”

His hand flew to his heart, as if catching my kiss, and he winked at me before disappearing into the kitchen.

When I got to work, even Brian and Eliana commented on my radiant looks. I sailed through the day with a confidence that almost felt real rather than fake. Almost.

I had half-expected to find Josh at my house for dinner, but when I called him, his mom said he was out for drinks with his friend, Rob.

“I’ll get him to call you back,” said Geena.

But he must have stayed out late because he didn’t call.

The next morning, Thursday, I had to be at work early to meet with Eliana and Archer Frye, who had an important design contract coming up and had asked for a special early meeting. By the time I got home, Josh and Leo were gone, but Josh had left me a message on voicemail. All he said was, “Hi, Sweetie, hope you had a good day.”

I played the message over several times wondering if I’d missed something, wondering if anything was wrong.

Josh

I’m sitting on the couch when my mom walks in.

“Phew, what’s that smell? Oh, man.
Josh
.”

She drops her groceries, walks cross the room, and opens three windows. That’s when I realize I’ve burned through 3 packs of matches and the room is smoky and reeks of sulphur.

“Sorry,” I mumble. I toss the fourth pack of matches onto the coffee table.

My mom comes over and sits on the arm of the couch and I wonder if she’s got frozen stuff in those grocery bags and maybe we should put stuff away but she’s totally focused on me.

“Go on. Spill it,” she says.

“It’s nothing. I’ve just been sitting here thinking, that’s all.”

“Uh huh.” She glances and the metal wastebasket that still has a tendril of smoke snaking out over the rim. “What exactly are you thinking
about
?”

She crosses her arms and stares intensely at me. I know she won’t leave me alone until I tell her but I really don’t want to. It’s the matches that twigged her. A while back, when I was eleven or so and I really clued in to who my dad was and how he’d tried to take me away from my mom and I was starting to get raging hard-ons and didn’t know what that was all about and I was just fucking freaked out about growing up, me and my friends got into playing with matches and lighting things on fire. We toasted a whole pile of trash in a back alley once, which caused enough smoke and flame to draw the fire department and all our moms found out and it got pretty dramatic. If it had only been the one time, my mom might have chalked it up to bad boy behavior, but we screwed up a few more times. It all seemed to be over until years later when I found out my dad had died and then this tossing matches in a can while I ruminated became a habit of sorts. One that resurfaced when big things bothered me.