The Claiming of Sadie Graves (13 page)

I sit there for a few seconds. “I appreciate that Edgar, mostly because I know you care for Mr. Sutton and want him to be happy.
But the fact remains: I’m not the right person for him.” I pause, feeling a little teary. “Thank you for getting me home. I hope you have a wonderful Christmas.” He shuts the town car door, and I watch his face retreat; he’s resigned; almost sad-looking.

In one second, he
disappears behind me.

The town car drops me in Kew Gardens, and I zip
myself into my building with a combination of relief and regret. I take the elevator to the third floor, and unlock my door.

It’s 7:35PM, and I suddenly realize I’m starved. All the lights are on.

“Jenny! Are you here?” I yell, coming through the vestibule and into the living area.

She pokes her head out of her bedroom. “You are SO dead!” she laughs. “Where have you been? You scared the shit out of me. And why haven’t you answered my texts?
My God, Sadie. What in the hell has gotten into you?

I could answer that question
with something really perverse
, but I refrain.

I smile, placate Jenny with apologies, eat something quickly and go to my room. Once inside, I open my duffel bag and put away its contents. I wash my face
, brush my teeth and put on a soft nightgown. Fishing around in a drawer, I find some cotton socks and put them on, too. I feel chilled.

I go straight to my bed and put a fresh set of sheets on, and two clean blanke
ts. I change the pillowcases. When everything is spotless and fresh, I pull the blankets back and ease between them. My eyelids are heavy. Sleep tonight is going to be dreamless – I can feel it. I figure I’ll lie down, cry a little and drift off.

And that’s when the front door buzzer rings sharply.

I pad to the video display in my sock feet, and look into the screen.

Lucas is leaned to one side in the apartment building’s entry, out of the wind. He looks tired; his shoulders
bowed. The duffel bag is in his left hand. He isn’t looking at the camera; his face is in profile.

I depress the intercom. “Lucas, it’s late. What do you want?”
My voice sounds tinny, even to me.

He looks down, still not at the camera. “
I’m tired, and I wanted to sleep beside you tonight. I can’t explain it. I know you’re mad at me, and you’re right to be. I just…” he lifts his head, looking straight into the lens “want to be with you, even if it’s only for tonight. Please, Sadie. Let me in?”

I look at him, so obviously weary.
That goes for both of us. I feel like I’ve been beaten.
Thanks to you, Lucas
, I think. He’s obviously exhausted by me, from the looks of things.
Well, the feeling is mutual.

I depress the buzzer, giving him access to upstairs. He opens the exterior door, and I wait for him to knock when he reaches
my door on the third floor.

He does.

I open the door tentatively. He looks at me, in my nightgown and socks, and moves inside with his bag.

“Can I get cleaned up?” he asks.

“Sure” I say, and show him again to my en suite. He goes inside. I go to the bed and plop down on it, past the point of caring anymore. I slip under the blankets, and fluff two pillows under my head. He emerges, in briefs and nothing else. I try not to look at him. If he’s really as tired as he appeared earlier, I have no worries. Lucas comes to the side of the bed opposite me, pulls back blankets, and slips between the sheets.

“Are you hungry?” I ask, in an attempt
to be polite. “No, thanks. I ate on the way here. Thank you for letting me in.” He gets a knowing look on his face. Oh. He’s proud that I caved to him. Did he know that I would?

He’s close to me, but not demanding. He reaches one
hand out to my shoulder. I turn, looking right into his face. “Come closer” he whispers. We both move slightly toward each other, but that concession apparently isn’t enough. He reaches out and spoons me into him.
Not what I had in mind
. I protest mildly, but he whispers to me, “It’s just for tonight, Sadie.”

And so, we lay quietly by each other, hips touching, in a silent t
ruce. He falls asleep before I do. But not by much. I remind myself that this is the last time I’ll ever be against him, and I flip over to nuzzle his face and neck, knowing he won’t be aware that I have. It’s my secret. He smells wonderful. Is it possible that he’s more beautiful than he was earlier today? I cringe when I think about how he perceives me. In one vain attempt to please him, I’ve given him the key to my undoing. I have to be more careful in the future. With…whoever. I know there’s no future in
this
man, my gorgeous lost cause. I memorize his face in the half-light, and say a prayer that he’ll find the right person. He’ll be good to someone. I want that for him. Even when he’s being insufferable and proud. That’s ironic, isn’t it?

When I spoon back into him, I don’t dream at all. But I have the deepest, most restful sleep I’ve had in a long time. 

“Baby I Can’t Please You”

Sam Phillips,
Martinis and Bikinis

I wake
up and look at the clock at 4:43AM, when Lucas’ movements rouse me from sleep. He’s unbuttoned my nightgown and pulled off his briefs, so both of us are naked. His soft skin is pressed against my inner thighs, pushing them apart. He’s groaning softly, hands deftly moving my legs so he can access my sex. The only true light is coming mutedly from the bathroom, but it’s enough to show his perfect form, his earnest face. I can see, even in the dim light, that his eyes are half-open. He’s looking down between my legs, and he’s using his hand to push his length inside me, slightly. His face doesn’t show any emotion, just need. He wants to fuck.
Oh, he’s a fucking machine, isn’t he?

Okay then
, I think.
That’s all you want, anyhow.

I relax
under him, knowing it’s for the last time. I try to disconnect, mentally. He enters me with a shudder, a gasp escaping his lips. He rolls his head back, eyes shut.
Does he even realize he’s with me, not someone else?
He sighs toward me, but doesn’t stop rocking his hips into mine. He looks down; eyes open now, watching himself slide in and out of me with excitement. He’s actually sweating. “Sadie, dear God. You. Are. So.Tight.” He punctuates each word with a thrust. He puts his hands under my knees and pulls me toward him, and then pushes my knees outward, opening the way to freely pounding my sex with his. He pauses to lean forward and slip his tongue over one puckered nipple, taking it in his mouth.

But it’s only a
pause; he moves my legs down, and together. He puts his thighs on either side of mine, without breaking contact. He enters me now from above, the length of his cock sliding past my vulva, lips pressed together, back and forth across my clit. The friction feels incredible; I’m close to the edge. “Oh. Your pussy feels so good.”
My heart stops. I’ve heard that phrase before
. He’s sweating now, really sweating. He keeps after it, until he climaxes. He calls out my name when he does.
I feel like I’m 13 again. He doesn’t care about me.

We both l
ie there for a few minutes afterward.

I disengage from Lucas, and go the bathroom. I turn on warm water and wash my lower body
. I check to be sure I’ve take taken all my birth control pills in order - and I have.
Whew.
I look at my face in the mirror, so pale, so serious. I have to end this thing, before anything else happens that reminds me of…

I walk out and look at Lucas, who –instead of going back to sleep – has the mental acuity to realize something just happened that had nothing to do with sex. He’
s wide awake.

“
Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” he asks.

I want to say something, but it dries up on my lips.

“What happened?” he says softly. “It’s a long story”, I say, “But it has everything to do with why you find me confusing.”  Lucas looks puzzled. “What does that mean?”

“
Nevermind. Look, I don’t think we should see each other anymore. I don’t want to be with you, competing with your other - what do you call them? Entanglements? I just want to be with someone who appreciates me. Someone who just needs one…” I trail off
. I’m not doing a good job at this.

“U
gh. I don’t even know what I’m saying. I don’t expect you to understand. Just, let’s stop. Now. Today.”

I pause,
trying to be quiet.

He clears his throat.
His eyes look worried. He’s upset, but trying to manage it. “Sadie”, his voice breaks a little. “I know I haven’t explained my feelings very well.” He takes a deep breath. “I want you, tremendously. Want to be with you every day, take you places, and show you things. I want to eat breakfast, lunch and dinner with you. I want to give you a bath at the end of every day. I want to sleep by you at night. Want you to grace my bed. I just…want you to be mine.”

A lone tear squeezes out of my left eye. “That’s not going to happen”, I say softly. “You have other relationships that can’t
withstand what you’re asking of me. Do you really want to stop seeing Violet – or Gabrielle?”

He nods. I laugh, dubiously. “Then your work commitments will make our relationship impossible.
Do you think Violet is going to peacefully let you go, so you can be with me? Can you eat dinner with me and then leave, with no worry, to spend the rest of the night out with four or five models, schmoozing clients? Can we be apart for weeks while you’re overseas? Could I trust you? I don’t think so, at least not now. That’s not how real life works, Lucas. You’re asking me to bend to your life, with no regard to mine.”

His eyes get wide. “
You don’t think you can trust me?” He says it with just a hint of irony. “But I’m asking you to accompany me everywhere, Sadie, as my girlfriend. You’ll move in with me, travel with me. I’ll change everything for you.”

“
Lucas, I think you just like fucking me. It’s new. It’ll wear off, just like your relationship with Gabrielle. You like her, but
you’re not settled down
. End quote. Remember? So you’re going to cool off, but I’ll just be heating up. I can’t take that in my life right now. I don’t have the energy
.” Or the self-confidence
.

“
Sadie, I
love
fucking you. I can’t dispute that. And fucking you feels different than anything else – than any other woman. But you aren’t even giving this a chance.” he whispers.  He closes his eyes. He looks hurt.

I pull away.

“Look, let’s just part amicably. I’ll help you get your things. Come on, Lucas. Get dressed.”

It’s 6:35
AM when he gets into the lift, looking slightly dazed. He looks dead into my eyes. “I think you’re taking the easy way out. Sadie, look at me. Don’t you see how I feel about you? Tell me you don’t feel it, too.”

“Lucas, I see that you like a woman who
’s outside of your circle of friends. I’m sure there’s a reason for that. I’ll probably see you at the atelier on Tuesday, if you come with your father.”

I step back from the elevator.

The doors move to shut. “Sadie, I think I…” They close with finality.

I walk back to the apartment, every muscle protesting.

I sniffle for an hour, and then pull myself together. I have to get ready for work. The dinner with Peter’s group is tonight. I get under the showerhead, turn the water on scalding hot, and try to give myself ten reasons to go to the house of Rosenstein. They aren’t good ones, but work has never let me down. Not even one time. So I get ready, like it’s any other day.

I make up a kick-ass outfit, and
an even better one for tonight, and head off into the day, a vial of eye drops in my purse. They get the red out, right?
God, I hope so.

I realize its December 10
th
, just two weeks until Christmas Eve.

Christmas without Lucas.
The thought itself is depressing.

“What Were We Thinking”

Joss Stone,
Introducing Joss Stone

Work goes by quickly today. It’s weird; somehow being back with my colleagues makes me forget all the craziness of the past week. I can just compartmentalize it, lock it away for later. I stay busy helping customers, and rack up several five hundred dollar-plus sales in the lingerie gallery. Our male customers are so funny.  They want to know exactly what to call everything, and ask us with no guile whatsoever what we’d like, if we were getting lingerie. I find myself feeling much more confident, more womanly even, giving answers.

Yeah, now that you’ve had sex
, my brain says.
Whoo. All of what, three times?

What exactly is sexy? I guess it’s different things to different people. But I heap on some realistic advice, and the customers seem relieved and grateful. I pass by a mirror and look to see if I look any different, after being had so completely by Lucas.