Knights and Kink Romance Boxed Set (86 page)

“I’m sure.” I shoot a ‘just a sec’ gesture over to
Brad, who is now giving me the evil eye.

“Lisa, when do you think I could see you? It turns
out I’m in your neck of the woods right now. Just finished up a
sales visit over at Southview Hospital this morning in Centerville,
and as I recall, that's only a mile or two from your house.”

I chew my lip and can’t think of anything to say for
a moment. How does Syr Phillip know where I live?

As if reading my mind, Syr Phillip continues. “I
brought you home from the hospital the other night, remember? You
were pretty zonked out then, but lucky for you that Pegeen gave me
directions and a spare key to your place when she came by the
hospital on Saturday. I carried you into your bedroom, although you
were pretty insistent about undressing yourself.”

“Oh. Right.” I guess that’s why I woke up in my
bedroom groggy on Monday afternoon. I’d been wondering how I got
there, especially since I woke up wearing nothing but my “I’m A
Pepper” T-shirt.

Suddenly I wonder if in fact Syr Phillip and I
really are just make-out partners. Although I can’t imagine
actually having sex with him and forgetting about it somehow.
Still, I figure it’s safer to ask.

“Right,” I stammer, chewing my lip even more. “About
that. Ummm, I was just wondering, did we, you know—“

Syr Phillip sighs audibly through the tinny cell
phone crackle. “I assure you, Lisa, I was the perfect gentleman. It
wouldn’t have been chivalrous of me to take advantage of you in
your vulnerable condition. You were still pretty groggy from the
pain medicine Dr. Kavanaugh’s nurse gave you after the last rabies
booster.”

At this, I’m both pleased and a little disappointed
that Syr Phillip and I haven’t consummated our mutual electricity
yet. I feel my crotch get hotter at the possibility of finally
making that happen tonight.

“Lisa? Are you there?” Syr Phillip sounds
concerned.

“Yes, I’m here, I’m sorry. It’s just that I really
can’t talk while I’m at work, and—“ I trail off, not sure what to
say.

“You probably have a lot on your mind right now,
Lisa. So do I. I was hoping that you and I could talk more about
what’s on both our minds.” Syr Phillip’s voice suddenly returns to
that smooth baritone I heard him use during his knightly speeches
at the Blood and Roses Tournament. “You see Lisa, I’m really quite
taken with you. More so than any woman I’ve known in a long time.
And I’m not entirely sure what I should do about it. Do you have
any ideas? Because I’m looking for some guidance.” The passion
emanating from his words is almost enough to short-circuit my
Nokia. I feel myself go wet between the legs again, and a little
cry almost escapes my throat. Almost, but not quite. I manage to
swallow it down just in time, but that only sends me into a wild
fit of coughing.

“Lisa? Are you all right?”

I finally manage to get a hold of myself. “Yes,
Phillip, I’m fine. I get off work at five-thirty. How about you and
I meet back at my place around six? I live alone, so we’ll have all
the privacy we need.”

There is a pause. “I was thinking more along the
lines of a dinner out, if you don’t mind.”

Syr Phillip’s words sting. All my hopes of a
much-needed after-work tryst with my hunk of burning knight are
dashed. Still, I guess there’s always the possibility of an
after
-dinner tryst . . .

“Lisa? Is dinner all right with you?” Syr Phillip’s
voice breaks my sexual trance.

“Ummm, yeah,” I manage, my voice hoarse. “Where
would you like to go?”

“I confess I’m in the mood for something simple,
like pizza and beer. Any good places around here for that?”

“Well, there’s Marion’s Pizza behind the Dayton
Mall. That’s the best pizza in Dayton by far. It’s always a little
crowded, but it’s good, and it’s cheap, too.”

“Sounds fine, and remember, it’s my treat,” Syr
Phillip agrees. “I’ll pick you up at six then.”

“Okay. Bye.” I flip my Nokia shut and clip it back
onto my belt without bothering to listen for Syr Phillip’s
goodbye.

I must have a strange look on my face right now,
because Pegeen and Brad rush over, both with looks of concern.
Pegeen is carrying a paper cup of ice water.

“Are you all right, Lisa?” Pegeen asks, handing me
the water and putting a hand to my forehead. “You just went white
as a sheet.”

Brad folds his arms across his man-titted chest and
gives me a frown of disapproval. “Who were you talking to just now?
You know it’s against plant rules to be gabbing on your cell phone
during work hours.”

I don’t answer either of them. My mouth has suddenly
gone cotton-dry. I guzzle down the ice water in one gulp, but it
doesn’t help.

Pegeen feels my forehead again, then compares it
with her own. “I think she’s sick, Brad. Maybe you should send her
home.”

Brad growls. “You better not have brought your
rabies into the plant, Lisa. I’d have to order a full shutdown if
it’s contagious.”

“I—I’m not sick,” I mumble. “I’m just—“ I suddenly
feel very dizzy.

Pegeen whispers something to Brad and he nods.
“Lisa, relax. I’m going to use my coffee break to take you
home.”

I open my mouth to protest, but it seems Brad has
already acquiesced. “Don’t be too long, Pegeen,” Brad mutters. “I
can’t run the whole goddamn assembly line by myself.” He slams the
door to his glass office hard enough to shake the entire factory
floor.

Pegeen takes my hand, which has gone cold and
clammy. “I know what’s ailing you, Lisa. And I know exactly what
will make you feel better, too. Let’s go.”

Chapter
15

Ever the loyal best friend, Pegeen is as good as her
word and drives me home from the Delco plant in her rusty Tercel.
I’m holding a damp wad of paper towels from the plant restroom on
my forehead, and I’m shaking a little. I’m beginning to wonder if
maybe the rabies shots aren’t working and I am in fact doomed to
die a miserable, frothing-mouthed slow death.

“What’s the matter with me, Pegeen?”

Pegeen just shakes her head and keeps her eyes on
the road.

“I feel like I’m going to die,” I moan.

“You won’t die, trust me. I’ve been there myself,
and these things always resolve themselves at some point.”

“What things?”

Pegeen just shakes her head again. “Be quiet, Lisa.
I’ve only got fifteen minutes to get you home and then drive back
to the plant, and I need to concentrate on my driving.”

I lean as far forward as the seatbelt will allow and
try to put my whirling head between my knees. But that position
only amplifies the bumps and jitters Pegeen’s battered Toyota makes
as it hits every crack and pothole on Far Hills Avenue, so I sit
back up and hold my temples.

“Owwwwww—-“ I groan. “My head hurts like hell.”

“It’s just another half-mile to your place, Lees,”
Pegeen says, her voice soothing. “Hang in there.” She pops an Enya
CD into the car stereo and the soft Celtic music helps ease my pain
a little.

We pull up in front of my building about five
minutes later. Pegeen digs my keys out of my purse for me and lets
us into my apartment. She turns up her nose in distaste at the
sight of my living room, which is even more trashed than it usually
is as a result of my recent convalescence. Three days’ worth of
dirty laundry is piled on my couch, and the remains of several Lean
Cuisines and Campbell’s Soup at Hands are piled up on my coffee
table. In my illness I’d only had enough energy to heat up the
meals, not clean up after them.

Pegeen kicks aside an overflowing laundry basket and
a pile of old magazines as she leads me down the short hallway to
my bedroom. The sheets are pulled halfway off the mattress from my
rush to get up this morning. She quickly rearranges them before
depositing me on my bed.

“Do you have any green tea in the house, Lees?”
Pegeen asks, pulling the covers over me.

“Mrrggggghhhhh. I dunno,” I groan. My headache is
getting worse by the second.

“I’ll just go look if you don’t mind. Do you still
keep the teapot under the sink?”

“Yeah,” I manage before I pull the covers over my
head.

I hear water running and some banging in the
kitchen, followed shortly thereafter by the teapot’s whistle.
Pegeen appears a moment later holding my “Thank You For 5 Years of
Loyal AC Delco Service” coffee cup, which is steaming and emitting
a vaguely medicinal aroma.

“Drink this,” she orders. I obey and burn my tongue
in the process. The hot drink tastes like a mixture of green tea
and industrial-strength floor cleaner.

“What the fuck is this?” I ask.

“Just some of your green tea, along with my special
secret ingredient. I always make sure to carry some in my purse for
emergencies.”

“What special ingredient? It tastes like shit,
whatever it is. Are you trying to poison me or something?”

“It’s not poison, Lees. It’s Korean ginseng. An
aphrodisiac. Let me know how it works on you. If you like it, I can
get a supply of it for you wholesale from a friend of mine. You
should start feeling the effects of that in a few minutes.” With
that, Pegeen gives me a wink and is gone out my front door before I
can say another word.

As I listen to Pegeen drive away in her battered
Tercel, I notice the hot beverage is already having an effect. My
belly feels warm, but not the kind of warm your belly gets after
guzzling hot chocolate or sitting in front of a fireplace. It
feels, well—

It feels sort of the way my belly feels after sex.
Warm, soft, relaxed, and a little melted. That same warmth starts
to creep its way down my belly towards my crotch, then down my
thighs—

Ahhh.

I feel a sudden burst of energy and sit up. I notice
that in addition to the melty, sensual warmth that has set all my
limbs to tingling, my headache, nausea, and clammy skin have all
disappeared. I glance at my reflection in the dresser mirror and
notice that my skin has a rosy glow, my eyes are bright and perky,
the dark circles that had been underneath them completely gone. I
even look a little thinner. It’s almost as if my entire body has
been replaced with a newer, sexier one.

Wow. I’ll definitely have to tell Pegeen to pick me
up a case or two of this ginseng stuff.

With my newfound energy, I dash around the
apartment, picking up the dirty laundry, dishes, newspapers, and
junk mail that is scattered everywhere. I clean the sink and tub,
scrub the toilet, and mop the bathroom floor. I straighten up my
jumble of a bedroom, change all the bed linens, and set out some
scented candles that have been sitting in a box in the back of my
closet since two Christmases ago. I wash all the dishes, clean the
kitchen, and even polish all the mismatched, threadbare furniture I
inherited when my parents died with an ancient can of Pledge I find
under the sink. Before I know it, almost four hours have gone by,
and my apartment looks better than it has in years.

I glance at the clock. 3:45. I still have almost two
hours before Syr Phillip is due to show up. I ponder a trip to the
neighborhood Krogers to pick up some fresh flowers for my
now-immaculate boudoir and maybe even a bottle of wine, but then
remember that my car is still over at the Delco plant. I start
considering whether the corner Stop-N-Go carries freesia bouquets
and Merlot when the phone rings. The caller ID says “DELCO
ASSEMBLY.”

I pick it up, hoping it’s Pegeen and not Brad.

“Hello?”

“Well, you’re sounding a lot better,” Pegeen’s voice
sings through the land line, much to my relief.

“Yeah. That ginseng stuff is amazing.”

“Glad to hear it,” Pegeen replies. “I can pick up
some for you next time I see my friend Lin Soo over in Kettering.
And if you think it’s making you feel good now, just wait until you
get Syr Phillip into bed tonight. You
are
going to sleep
with him, right?”

“Well, I’m certainly going to try,” I say. I stare
at my hands and notice that they’re shaking a little. “But Syr
Phillip says he needs to talk to me about something, and—“

“You have to do more than just
try
,” Pegeen
shoots back, her voice almost a yell. “You do realize why you were
feeling so ill back at the plant, don’t you?”

“Well—“

“You are having a
major
case of total vaginal
shock aphasia,” Pegeen says, her voice considerably lower in
volume.

“Total vaginal
what?”

“In plain English, you are in deep, desperate need
of a good lay, and fast,” Pegeen giggles. “Now if you come into
work tomorrow morning without being laid, I will be seriously
pissed about wasting eighteen bucks’ worth of ginseng on your sorry
ass. That stuff is mondo expensive, and I need as much of it as I
can get just to keep up with Arundel’s libido.”

“I’ll do my best,” I mutter, and hang up.

I shower and change into one of my most feminine
dresses—a floaty gauze number made of Indian batik fabric that I
picked up at a Yellow Springs street festival a few years back. I
pair it with some strappy leather sandals with low heels, some
peach lipstick, and weave my hair into a delicate French braid. I’m
rummaging around in my jewelry box looking for earrings when I hear
a knock at the door.

I glance at my alarm clock and notice it’s only
4:33. So either Syr Phillip is almost two hours early, or I’ve got
an unexpected guest.

I fling open the front door, hoping to find Syr
Phillip behind it. But instead of my tall, blonde hunk of burning
knight, I find Baroness Barlonda. She’s peering puzzledly at the
“Keep On Truckin’” sticker affixed to my rusty mailbox and carrying
a garment bag.

“Barlonda? I wasn’t expecting you here today.”

The middle-aged woman bursts into the apartment
before I have a chance to invite her inside. She looks surprisingly
unlike a baroness today in her Levi’s cutoff shorts and tattered
Cincinnati Reds T-shirt. Her hair is wet and greasy looking, and
there are heavy bags under her eyes. I think she might be hung
over, or at least very sleep-deprived.