“Are you okay?”
“I wish I knew.” He looked into Maria’s clear, dark eyes. “I’m separated from my wife, overwhelmed at work, worried about my kids, and now the man that made my childhood a living hell shows up out of nowhere and says he’d like me to drop by sometime. You tell me, Maria, am I okay?”
They stared at each other in silence.
Inside the small apartment Lisa’s eyes immediately fell on the large collage of beautiful blond girls on the wall.
“Are they your girlfriends?”
“What if I said yes?” The urge to act was overwhelming, but he didn’t know what to do. No one had ever been inside his apartment before. Especially not an antelope like this. He felt sweat bead across his forehead. He had a slight tremor in his right hand. His eyes were glued on her long, beautiful blond hair falling across her tan, beefy shoulders. The sundress she wore showed off her curvy shape, but he couldn’t get a sense of how she was feeling. He didn’t know if she was pissed off, turned on, or just plain crazy. She’d gone to a lot of trouble to find him, and obviously had spent some time waiting for him. She knew way too much.
“Did you tell anyone you were coming over?”
“Why, are you married?”
He laughed and shook his head.
“Then why are you so secretive?”
“I like my privacy. Is that a crime?”
She slowly shook her head and said, “I guess not. I’m sorry-I didn’t mean to be needy. I just felt like we’d made a connection on the dance floor the other night.”
“We did. I mean, we have a connection.” He stepped closer, reached up, and caressed her pretty, sculpted cheekbones. “And I’d like to explore it more closely.” He kissed her softly on the neck, lingering for a minute, letting his tongue make a little swirl. Then he stepped back and assessed her. “Does anyone know you’re here?”
She shook her head, and said with a little laugh, “I try to keep my stalking quiet. My girlfriends think that I can be too aggressive sometimes. I hope that doesn’t scare you.” She reached behind her and undid the tie on her dress, then let it drop down her tan body to the hardwood floor. She pushed her panties down her legs, stepping on them with her left foot so she stood completely naked in front of him.
The blood seemed to race to both his brain and his dick at the same time. It made him a little unsteady on his feet. She stepped back toward the desk against the wall. The collage of photos was directly behind her. She sat on the desk, her legs spread, and pulled him toward her, embracing him with both her arms and legs. She reached up to give him a long, slow kiss. He responded without reservation and felt his body react.
She used her feet to tug off his shorts as he unbuttoned them and let them slide to the floor with her pile of clothes. He felt himself pulled toward her and hesitated.
“What’s wrong? What is it?” She whispered into his ear.
“I need a condom.”
“It’s all right. I’m on the pill.”
“I always practice safe sex.” He stepped away from her and opened a small top drawer on the desk, scooting her legs gently out of the way. He looked down in the drawer and saw his pack of Durex condoms. He froze for a moment because next to the condoms was a long, sharpened letter opener. It looked sinister in this setting. He could imagine it plunging into her soft skin.
He really couldn’t decide what he wanted to do more.
The more Lisa thought about it, the more she realized she could never tell her girlfriends exactly what she did. She’d make up some fabulous story about how he’d swept her off her feet. Somehow she was certain no matter how she told the story, the word “stalking” would never come up. A couple of girls had been with her through her restraining-order days and knew that she was prone to following guys a little closely, but she didn’t want to have to tell them exactly how closely she’d followed this one. Even the word “stalking” made her sound creepy. She used to use it as sort of a joke and it would make people laugh, but afterward it always embarrassed her no matter how much attention it got her at a party.
But now she was pretty sure he noticed her as she sat up on the little table and spread her legs, guiding him inside her. A little attention, that’s all she ever wanted. She wasn’t crazy about the feel of the condom, and it was awkward helping him slide it on. She never made guys wear condoms. She was on the pill and stayed pretty clean even though she had to visit her doctor a couple times because of not using a condom. Actually, because of sleeping with a guy who had a venereal disease. She wished she hadn’t known the doctor since she was a little girl, but he’d stuck to his oath and not told her mom about it. Both times.
She made her little passion face and let out a couple of moans now and then. She knew that’s what men like. Every time she had sex, she thought about the very first time with Lucas by the little pond west of town. He was sixteen and she was seventeen, and he seemed as if he had such a little dick at the time. But she sure found ways to make him grow bigger. It wasn’t till later that she learned that it wasn’t really all that big in comparison to other guys. But Lucas with a sweet smile and blue eyes always made her a little sad. And every time she had sex she thought about him and sometimes almost cried. But this guy wasn’t giving her time to cry. He was throwing it at her hard and heavy. It even felt kinda good knowing that a guy like him could focus so hard on nothing but her. He had his own passion face and let loose with some odd sounds like an animal. But somehow she liked it.
She wanted to keep this one and knew she had to show him a good time. A great time. She started wiggling her legs to make her butt jiggle on the little table. Even though she didn’t like to feel a condom, she increased her grunts and moans and reached over and gently brought her fingernails along his back. Then she nuzzled his neck. Just a little nibble at first. He seemed to like it. It certainly made things more exciting for her, tasting the salt of his perspiration and feeling the muscles strain under her teeth and tongue. Then she decided to go a little further, and she bit him. She didn’t bite really hard and was surprised when a little blood trickled out. But she wasn’t sorry.
It sure seemed as if he was. He looked at her, shocked.
She didn’t care; at least he was looking at her. He’d probably leave her soon anyway.
Thirty-two
John Stallings thought about how his father ambushed him in the restaurant and was curious what he had meant when he said to stop by and talk to him sometime. It was Sunday evening, and he’d wrestled with his emotions all afternoon. He went from angry that the old man thought he could just show back up in his life, to sad that he had lost so many years. But that didn’t compare to the years he’d spent being scared of the tyrant and wishing someone else was raising him. Now he was just tired enough to confront the old man without fear of getting physical or even too vocal.
He was on North Liberty Street looking for the address his father had given him. It turned out to be a boardinghouse that had ten rooms for rent. It was west of the stadium where the Jacksonville Jaguars played in an odd part of town with houses, businesses, industrial buildings, and apartment buildings all mixed together. It was, in fact, the kind of area where he would’ve expected to find his father.
He parked in the front of the old two-story Spanish-style house, and paused after he got out of his car. He looked up at the mostly dark windows and tried to think of reasons to wait until tomorrow. Or next week. It’d been so long since he talked to the old man. So long since he even thought about him-or at least that’s what he told himself-that he wondered if this was even worth the effort. There was also the issue of bothering the other residents. He eased up the uneven walkway toward the porch, which held an old couch and three unmatched chairs. As he was about to climb the four wooden stairs, the porch light came on and the front door started to open.
A heavyset elderly woman in a thick bathrobe leaned out of the door and said, “Who you looking for, officer?”
Stallings froze, looked at her in surprise, and said, “How did you know I was a cop?”
“Son, you run a place like this for long enough and you can spot a cop and a social worker from a mile away. Something tells me you’re no social worker. Who you looking for?”
“James Stallings.”
“Now, what did Jimmy do that would attract the attention of the police?”
