Page 109 of Hell Bent
Elise said, “Excuse me? Where would that be?” Like she imagined pro football players only went … bowling. Bass fishing. Possibly to NASCAR races.
I said, “She could have worn them tonight, for example.”
“With a leather skirt,” Elise said flatly.
“Well, yes,” I said. “Sorry, but NFL players make good money, and they tend to give good jewelry, too. There was some serious bling knocking around the place tonight. But if that isn’t high-end enough, how about awards banquets? Women wear legit gowns to those.”
“Are you going to be awarded something?” Elise asked.Extremelydubiously.
I laughed. “I could. You never know. Alix would be a knockout in a sort of chocolate-brown dress. Or bronze. Those earrings with a bronze dress, on Alix? That’d turn some heads.”
Alix said, “You two are dressing me like a paper doll. Hello? I wear work pants!”
“And I’ve seen you four times in something that knocks me out,” I said. “I don’t think you hate dressing up at all. I think you hate being toldhowto dress up.”
She muttered, “Stop looking in my brain like that,” and I laughed. She went on, “You’re not taking these back, Mother. I promise to take excellent care of them, and to love them.” A pause. “Just like I love Oma, and I love you. I know what they mean. I understand that they’re a link in the chain.” Of princesses, that would be.
“Then,” Elise said, “I’ll leave them with you.” Of course, she had to add, “And hope for the best.”
42
THIS FRAGILE THING
Sebastian
Alix hugged her mother goodbye at the car, then ran back inside with the laptop and shut the door. The tire noise receded in the rainy night, and Alix set the laptop on the table along with her passport, then turned to me, pasted a smile onto her troubled face, and said, “So.”
I didn’t answer, because I couldn’t think of anything to say. I took her in my arms instead. I knew it was right, because I could feel her vibrating under the skin, all of her held taut. I’d have sworn that her teeth were about to chatter, though she wasn’t saying anything, just standing there in her stockinged feet. I soothed my hand over her back, wished I knew what to say, and came up with nothing. But my arms were around her tight and she was pressed into me as if that mattered, so I figured I was close enough.
When she stepped back at last, her eyes were bright. She slid the earring case and passport into her purse and said, “I either feel good about all that, or bad. I don’t know which.” She passed a hand through her hair and tried to laugh. “Thiswas supposed to be our birthday-sex night, too. I hate it that Ned’s right.”
I was suddenly, irrationally, furious. “How is he right? It’s not hot sex if you don’t hurt her? What the hell? The rest of it is bullshit too. You’re the last thing from a snob, and your standards aren’t too high. They’re not high enough, because he was never good enough for you. There isn’t one kind of job that makes somebody worthwhile. That isn’t about a job at all. It’s about who you are. It’s about your effort and your character. It’s about your … your …” I stopped. “Help me out here. Fill in the blank.”
“I think you were going to say ‘your soul,’” she said, still trying to laugh. “I don’t know that my soul’s up to that much scrutiny.”
“Your soul,” I said, “is just fine.” I kissed her, then, because I needed to, and she leaned into me, her hand on my face, gentle as a breeze.
This time, I didn’t rush to get that leather skirt off. I took her by the hand, stood in the minimal square feet of her tiny bedroom, removed her sweater carefully and laid it on the bed, then knelt behind her and slowly unzipped her skirt from the bottom, enjoying the sight of her strong thighs appearing as the black leather parted, the feel of that silky skin, the fine-wire tension in her body, before laying the skirt on the bed on top of the sweater. I rose to my feet behind her, drawing my hands up her thighs along the way, over her waist, and felt her respond. I unhooked her bra, which was black and strapless, and set it on top of the other items, then ran my hands slowly over her shoulders, down her arms, and she trembled some more and didn’t say anything at all. I pulled her hair back from her face and kissed her neck, and she sighed. I turned her in my arms, brushed a thumb over her cheek, and said, “You’re beautiful. And if it’s all right withyou, I want to change our plan, because I need to love you slow and sweet enough tonight that you’ll know I mean it.”
Her throat worked as she swallowed, and she wasn’t Alix-confident when she whispered, “OK.”
It was chilly back here, but when I pulled her down with me and pulled the covers over us, the nest we made was nothing but warm. Kisses and sighs and murmured words, and trying to tell her what she meant to me with my voice, with my hands, with my willing body. The way she rose up into me, and all the vibrating, aching tension in her as I drove her slowly up with every bit of patience I possessed. The moment when the sighs turned to gasps, and when she was calling out. Feeling her like I was feeling myself, and loving her that way until we were both lost in it, the pleasure so sharp it was almost pain, then drifting down again and coming to rest, her body tucked into mine like a sea creature curling into its shell. Secure. Held. Safe.
“Happy birthday,” I told her, my hand on her soft hair again, my body trying to fall asleep. “Sorry about the kinky sex.”
“You’re so …” she began, then stopped.
“Mm,” I said, and yawned. “What? We’ll do it another time, I promise.”
“No,” she said, and then did the thing that got me in the heart. She laced her fingers slowly through mine, lifted my hand to her mouth, and kissed it. “I know I’m not really a princess,” she said. “I’m not even a girly girl. But you make me feel … desired. Needed. Female.”
She didn’t say “loved.” Neither did I. Both of us afraid, maybe, to touch this fragile thing unfolding between us. In my case, afraid to name it, because I didn’t want to be wrong. It almost hurt to feel this much. That was why I didn’t do it.
I’d be back on solid ground tomorrow, I reminded myself as I climbed reluctantly out of bed and gathered my clothes,then handed Alix hers, wanting to stay here and fall asleep with her in my arms. But Ben was at home, and so was her car. She had to work in the morning, and so did I. And then I had to take Ben to Vancouver to see his mother.
Reality. The place I’d always been grounded. The only thing there was, in the end. Too bad I wanted more.
Alix
