Lust (27 page)

Don’t you want to someday start a family, marry…?”

My eyes must have been shooting knives out at him. This
conversation—with all the angst and emotions we had been
feeling for each other—was just not going to happen.

“Or not. Sorry. I didn’t mean to hit a soft spot.” Alexander
looked away, with a slighted expression, but the last thing I
wanted to do is to ruin the day we were having.

“No need to apologize. You did nothing wrong. My body
automatically rejects anything relating to long-term relationships.

I have nothing against marriage, but marriage isn’t what
it was—like you said—years ago. And the value of marriage
today is slim to none, so I don’t find myself inclined to move
toward that path. Plus, as much as women have progressed into
powerful players in all aspects of the world, when a woman gets
married, society has expectations, and anything different is taboo.

I just feel like I don’t fit into any of society’s molds at this
time, and if and when I do, well, they sure as hell had better
make a custom mold, because my wants and needs won’t fit
what’s out there. It’s just not feasible that a successful business
woman could be a good wife and mother and friend all in one;
there is just not enough time in the day or in a lifetime to do
it all. The worst part, I think, is that the fun will have to end:
the partying, the careless adventures, and, most of all, the wild,
uninhibited sex has to stop. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not, nor
ever was, a whore, but I enjoy sex and plan on having sex as long
as I can. So having fun with it and keeping it interesting are
fundamentals!”

Seeing a look of confusion on his face and trying to avoid the
bombardment of questions that were sure to come, I tried to elaborate.

“Just visualize my husband and me setting the crystal and
china for the evening’s dinner party with the neighbors, checking
off the to-do’s on the party list and—oops! Last thing on the list
reads: Hide all sex toys. Or better yet, having a nine-to-five job that
pays nothing and getting out of work early to pick up ‘the kids’

from sports. Then rushing home to have dinner, put the kids to
bed, and…‘Close your ears, kids. Mommy is handcuffing daddy
to the bed.’ It’s just not right. A woman like me would have to
change everything about herself to fit those roles, and I am unwilling
to sacrifice any part of me for what is the unknown.”

As I peered ahead now, watching the mass of people elegantly
dressed, I could see from the corner of my eye Alexander
stared at me. I couldn’t tell though if he was bothered by what
I had said.

“So, what do you think of the bridesmaids dresses? Horrible
color, isn’t it?” He was obviously trying to change the subject
and lighten the mood. We both broke into a giggle.

“Are you coming out?” I asked in hysterics.

“Coming out? What do you…Oh, shit. Seriously? ’Cause of
the comment I made about the dresses? I was joking. I’m sorry,
I thought I had thoroughly convinced you last night of what
my sexual preference is, but please allow me to redeem myself.”

Pulling my back into his hips, his erection pushed into me.

“I’m coming out all right. Right out of my jeans and straight
into you.” Spinning me to face him, his kissed me—hard and
with purpose.

The sky was still blue as day, but the night fell upon us in
hours. It was now seven o’clock, and my emotions toyed with
me. I couldn’t bear for the day to end, but I was dying to experience
what the night would bring. It was beautiful in the
midst of the gardens, and so was Alexander—in any light, in
any surrounding, and in any and all ways.

We rode in silence for a while as Brant drove us back to the
apartment. We needed to eat. We had slept so little and substituted
breakfast for lunch; he had to have been starving.

I felt selfish being fed and fulfilled solely by his presence,
but I needed to make sure he was taken care of, and Alexander
was right on the same thought, yet again. “Would you like to
go out for dinner, or would you like to have something at my
place?”

He noticed that I tensed every time he placed his hand on
mine or anytime he touched me—other than during sex. I’m
sure he couldn’t quite understand my motives for the distance,
even with my explanation of not having time for a relationship,
but it was becoming more evident that my fear was keeping me
from living my own life.

“This has been so amazing, Alexander, but I really should
get going. We are not teenagers anymore; I can’t stay over the
weekend. I haven’t been back to my house in two days.” I barely
looked at him as I spoke. My hand was still under his, but my
words were forcing me away.

He stared at me as I looked out the window. “Evangeline,
look at me. I know you don’t believe the words you are saying,
so stop saying them. I can feel that you don’t want to leave, so
don’t. You are enjoying yourself with me, relaxing, which I’m
sure you don’t do often, so enjoy it. Please, let’s have dinner,
and then after dinner if you still would like to leave, Brant and
I will drive you.”

“I—”

He stopped me from forcing myself to turn his offer down.

“Stop. I’m not accepting your crap answers. We are having dinner
together, and then we’ll talk about it. I’m asking you to
please accept.”

Without words, I turned and stared out the window again,
silently admitting defeat.

“I’ll have Brant pick up food for us from the steakhouse. Is
that all right with you? Anything you don’t like?”

I shook my head no and smiled, half turning my head to
him. “OK, but Brant, can you make a stop two blocks down on
your right? I just need to pick up a personal item first. Thank
you.”

Brant and I exchanged smiles and glances. We really did get
along so well and that just made him even happier. Pulling into
the block, we saw there wasn’t any parking, and Alexander argued
with me about going out alone.

“Wait. I’ll come out with you, and Brant can circle—”

My hand came onto his knee, stopping not only his words
but also his breath. I whispered close to him, “I’d rather go
alone. Don’t worry; I’m not running away.” And I got out of the
car and walked down the block. I walk around Manhattan all
the time, and with my tough skin, no one in their right mind
would mess with me.

About fifteen minutes later, Brant had circled two blocks and
Alexander met me where they had dropped me off. I was holding
a small brown paper bag close to me, and I smiled from ear to ear;
the smile was a bit too conniving, but with me, Alexander could
never tell what I was planning or what secret I held.

I never took time to myself. I helped who I could help. I
worked for all I could work for. I laid myself down for anyone
or anything that had a cause. And yet, I was allowing myself to
go through my own life, now at thirty-two, without experiencing
all I could because…well…I just did not have the time to.

Alexander was determined to show me otherwise. His determination
and desire to push through and do anything truly
impressed me. He was a force of nature, a source of a myriad
of strengths. But one undeniable weakness within me that he
wouldn’t be able to conquer was my fear. I felt for him. The glow
in my skin and the light in my eyes revealed the emotions in
every glance and every sway of my body, but I resisted. I resisted
giving myself the release of losing the control. Love is uncontrollable,
and I was all about control!

Brant had dropped us off at the apartment and gone back
out to pick up our food from one of the local steakhouses.

Alexander poured me a glass of Riesling and excused himself
to go to his office for a bit. He wasn’t rude and promised not to
take long, but he had to check work e-mails.

I walked out onto the veranda and lay on one of the plush
couches, sinking into it; I was tired but more so relaxed for the
first time in what seemed like forever.

Life, which is so short and goes so fast, existed and pushed
forward for me on the veranda. I felt unwilling to waste a minute
more away from Alexander but couldn’t figure out how I
was going to do this.

I lay on the chaise soaking up the sunset. My closed eyes
took in whatever was left of the sun, and a smile grew on my
lips; I couldn’t be sure when, but at some point I got lost in it.

I heard Alexander walk slowly, so as not to stir me, and
kneel beside me. Smoothing his hand over my silky, rosy face,
he called to me, “Evangeline, are you sleeping? Dinner is here.”

My eyes fluttered open with the sweetest hint of orange
that reflected off of the sky as the sunset ended and the night
began. “No, but if I were asleep, you would have just awakened
me and that, sir, is very rude.” I giggled as I stretched out, trying
to get myself up.

“Does your sarcasm ever take a break?” he asked, enjoying
my giddiness.

“No, it does not. So you will just have to live with it,” I
replied.

He took a loud breath; my unintentional mention of him
dealing with me for an extended period of time was splendid to
him and fearful for me, but the words just came out. Alexander
couldn’t help reacting, “I would gladly welcome that chance to
have to live with it.”

Damn it, I thought. The change in my affect was immediate;
he scared me.

Trying to regain the moment, for fear of possibly losing me,
Alexander changed focus. “Come on, sleepy. Let’s go eat. The
dining room table is set.” He pushed himself off the ground
and took a few steps toward the glass doors that led inside.

But still I sat, fearful, trying to put my words together.

My lips parted, but before I could release my dagger of words
into his heart, he stopped me.

“Come on. Don’t be silly. The steaks are going to get cold,
and then they might as well be garbage. Plus, the sooner you
get up, the sooner I can see you scarf down your food again and
put it in the memo at work on Monday.”

It worked, I thought.

As I threw a pillow from the couch at him with quite some
force, my whole body relaxed a little. He was learning me—the
first man who actually got me.

As we ate, the tone was again calm, relaxing, comforting,
and familiar, though odd seeing as we barely knew each other. I
let down the barriers around me, and he looked hopeful.

“So, may I ask you some personal questions, or are you going
to get the ‘oh my God, run’ face on again?” He waited for
a response, an allowance of some sorts, hoping I wasn’t going
to shut down.

And then I surprised him. Hell…I surprised myself.

With very little emotion and lots of fear, I nodded in
agreement.

“OK then…” He gave himself way to question, when I
interrupted.

“You get three questions, and don’t push your luck.” I could
feel my nerves, the tension in my voice, and the voices in my
head as I prepared for an interrogation; but I knew he craved to
see a little deeper inside me. He wasn’t going to unveil everything
in one night, so I wouldn’t shoot him down.

“OK, question one: if you could choose to be swept away
for a weekend, where would you like to be swept away to?”

The expression on my face eased with relief. The question
was light and airy, nothing to fret about.

“Well, first, I don’t need to wait to be swept away; I can
afford to sweep myself away just fine. But, for the purpose of
just answering your question, it would have to be Bora-Bora.”