Page 240 of Bend
“You were incredible,” Jonathan said. “I’ve never heard anything like that.” I stared at him. Something had changed in his face. I couldn’t pin it down. Softer? Was he tired? Or did Theresa have a relaxing effect on him? His happiness made me feel evil and sharp.
“I’ve never heard of a man trying to sandwich another woman between fingering me and fucking me in the same day.”
Theresa, who looked as though she was one hundred percent lady, almost spit out a mouthful of her cosmopolitan. Jonathan laughed too. I personally didn’t find any of this funny. I stepped back, and Theresa stood as well. Maybe she was pissed. Maybe her laugh was the nervous kind or maybe I’d just shocked her. But she was as composed as possible as she turned to Jonathan and said, “I’m going to the ladies’.”
He nodded, then scooted over once she was gone. “Would you like to sit?”
“No.”
“For someone who doesn’t want to get involved, you have a way of being involved.”
“Even I have limits.”
“She’s a natural redhead.” His look was full deadpan, and though what he said had a hundred filthy connotations, the one non-pornographic one became apparent with the straight-faced look.
“She’s your sister,” I said.
“Two years between us. She’d appreciate it if you assumed I was older.”
“I’m so embarrassed,” I said. “I have to apologize to her.”
“Are you going to sit? Or am I just going to stare at your body without touching you?”
I slid in next to him, and he put his arm around me, his fingertips brushing my neck.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I was having dinner with my sister. No, I was not stalking you, though I have to say again, I think you have a gift. I think I felt a half a tear, right here.” He touched the inside corner of his eye.
“Are you making fun of me?”
“No. I promise you. You were… I don’t have a word big enough.” He looked at my face, and I noticed his eyelashes were copper, like his hair. I was overcome by his presence. “Now I know what you’re protecting by not getting entangled.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I appreciate that. I really do.”
He ran his finger over my collarbone with just enough pressure to make me breathe a little more deeply. “Am I seeing you tonight?”
I tried to stay cool, but I wanted him all over again. “I don’t think I can. I’m not avoiding you. I have something else going on. Tomorrow?”
He shrugged. He must have thought I was playing games with him, which he’d probably be exquisitely sensitive about after the cheating wife. But I wasn’t playing a game. Not at all.
“I have a flight out at five tomorrow. After two weeks, you might forget me.”
“I should do to you what you did to me this afternoon,” I said.
He let out a short snort of a laugh into his whiskey. “You don’t have the self-control.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“You’re wrong.”
“Wanna bet?”
“Yeah. I wanna bet.”
He pulled me close and spoke so softly I could barely hear him. “You get me to beg for it, and tomorrow I will take you to Tiffany on Rodeo Drive where you can pick out anything you want.”
