“No, you don’t.”
“Not true,” I told him. “Would I be here if I didn’t?”
“Yeah, you’d do it out of obligation.”
“You sell my affections short,” I said. “Don’t be nasty.” I let my hand travel down to his inner thigh. “Be nice.”
He placed it over his groin, and I felt him grow in my fingers. He closed his eyes, his breathing audible. He whispered, “I keep forgetting what you do to me.” He gave me hungry eyes. “This is the safest place, Teresa. The only place where I feel comfortable talking.”
“I didn’t know you wanted to talk.” I stood on my tiptoes and kissed his lips, then bit them gently. “Doesn’t matter, Chris. Here’s fine. Anywhere’s fine.”
“You want a pillow or something?”
“Do you have something that’s clean?”
He made a face. “You’re very funny.”
“I’m dead serious. I don’t know who you bring in here.”
“No one. You know how meticulous I am.”
That he was.
“I have a stereo hooked up, too,” he said. “Vivaldi’s ‘Four Seasons’?” A rare sort of smile graced his lips, one that shot light into his eyes and showed how incredibly good-looking he could be. “Gipsy Kings?”
“You beast you.” I answered his smile in kind.
“I’ll be right back.”
His face had become suffused with little-boy excitement, like the first time I had given him a birthday gift. He put on the music and brought in a big, fluffy pillow, placing it on top of the desk. I pushed it off, letting it fall to the ground.
I dropped to my knees.
A couple of hours later, I asked if there was a place where I could bathe. Though he claimed to use condoms assiduously, he refused to use them when he was with me, saying it was the one time he could let his guard down. But it was more than that. Anything less than full culmination implied my rejecting his basic being, so my pleas had fallen on deaf ears. I had had the good sense to get an IUD when we became intimate again, but it did nothing for disease. The last time I had begged him to wear protection, he became very angry-that silent, dreadful fury that sent waves of fear into my gut. He had this look-this deadly look. He used it whenever he meant business. I had been on the receiving end of his wrath and revenge. There were some things I just couldn’t push him on.
“I have a unit upstairs. I’ll come with you in a minute.” He took my hand and kissed my fingers one by one. Then he let go and got dressed. He was still breathing hard when he sat down. “Let me rest for a moment. You gave me a workout, you animal.”
I got up from his desk and put on my clothes and clipped my hair back. I gulped down half the bottle of Evian, then gave it to him. He took a big swallow, then closed his eyes. He was drenched with perspiration. He didn’t look well at all. I felt his forehead. “You’re very hot.”
“It’s stuffy in here.”
“You’ve got a fever, Chris.”
“Any wonder after the calisthenics you put me through.”
“I’m concerned. Do you have a doctor I can talk to? You need Keflex.”
“I’ve got it.”
“Are you taking it?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“It upsets my stomach.”
“Christopher-”
“I’ll take it.” He finished up the bottle of water. “I’m probably just dehydrated. Stop nagging me.”
“I care.” I sat in his lap. “Please?”
“Yes, I will take Keflex.” He nibbled my upper lip, then kissed me. “Happy?”
“Yes.”
We began to kiss. Then he broke away.
“So who are you dating?” he asked me.
“No one.”
“Don’t lie to me, angel. Who are you dati-”
“No one,” I insisted.
He pulled out a nutrition bar from a file cabinet, ate half, then offered it to me. I shook my head, so he finished it.
“Not dating anyone?”
“No, I am not dating anyone.”
“Then why’d you go to the Hilton with your classmate? What was his name? Michael Bonocelli? Did I pronounce it right?”
His eyes were dead, just waiting to pounce. I said, “Your spy wasn’t thorough. If he had been more watchful, he would have seen me walk out as well as walk in.”
His face told me he was unconvinced.
“They have a very good Italian restaurant, Chris. When Mike invited me to go to dinner, I had no idea he meant room service.”
“You still went out with him.”
“We were working on a paper together-‘The Implications of Iatrogenic Causes in Radiation Deaths of Stage-Three Breast Cancer Patients’-a subject that interests me since both of our mothers died from the disease. Thank God we had a son. The lead professor’s name is Doctor Edwin Alvary. Mike offered me a dinner meeting, and I took him up on it. Sue me. I get tired of mac and cheese or peanut butter every night.”
I pushed his face away from mine.
“I don’t date, Chris. When would I have time? Besides, the last thing I want is a parade of men going in and out of the apartment. Gabe is everything to me. He is not going to grow up with a slut for a mother.”
“You wouldn’t be a slut if you had a toss now and then.”
“But I don’t! You know that cause you’re watching me all the time. I only sleep with you, and that’s different because you’re Gabe’s father. In fact, you’re the only guy I’ve ever been with, period! For twenty-four years old, that is truly pathetic!”
“Not to me. I still get this incredible jolt every time I lay you down and spread your legs.”
Again I pushed him away. “Stop being crude.”
“That was a compliment, angel.”
I scrunched up my face. “That’s such a male perspective. I want to have sex with you, ergo you should feel honored!”
“Men are dogs.”
Stated without expression. I quickly remembered whom I was talking to. I kissed his cheek. “At least, you’re a very generous dog.”
He took in my eyes. “How much?”
“That wasn’t a hint.”
He reached over to the second drawer of his file cabinet. Inside was a shoe box stacked with pictures of Ben Franklin. He pinched some bills off the top, then folded them into a wad and offered it to me. Longing in my heart, but I held my ground.
“I said that wasn’t a hint.”
He counted them-eight hundred dollars. He added two more bills and then stuffed them in my hand. “Buy something nice for yourself and the kid.”
“Thank you.” I kissed his cheek again. “It won’t go on forever, Christopher. I’ll be earning money in a few years.”
“I’m not complaining, Teresa.”
“You never do,” I told him. “I should marry some sugar daddy just to give you a break.”
“I am your sugar daddy. What do you need someone else for?”
I shrugged.
He gave me a stare. “Anyone specific in mind?”
“I’m talking theoretically.”
“You’re pissing me off!”
“Some good-looking, much older man who’ll baby me for the rest of my life. Someone who wouldn’t be much competition for you.”
“He wouldn’t be any competition for me because he’d be dead.”
“I mean much, much, much older, Chris. Like in his forties or fifties. That wouldn’t bother you, right?”
“Forties maybe. Fifties, probably not.” He raised his eyebrows. “Who would you go for, baby doll? Decker?”
“You’re sick!”
“Yeah, you’re right. No money.”
I faced him, suddenly turning serious. “So you two are working together?”
“Beats me.”
I didn’t like the attitude. I said, “Christopher Sean Whitman Donatti, I swear if you hurt that man I will never ever, ever forgive you for the rest of my life!”
Rudely, he pushed me off his lap. “What is it about that guy that inspires such loyalty?”
“Besides the fact that he got you out of prison? Besides the fact that he sent me money when no one else would? Besides the fact that he is the only heterosexual male I’ve ever met who hasn’t tried to sleep with me?”