Miranda Page 19

  I put the dessert in the room refrigerator, and I took one of the bottles of champagne, popped the cork, and poured it into two glasses, handing one to my companion.

  “Thank you, Wise,” he muttered while raising his cup.

  “You’re learning manners, Mr. Clausell.” I winked. “You’re welcome.”

  “It’s hard to have manners with you, Miss Wise.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He didn’t answer. He put his glass on the table, took mine out of my hand, and came close enough for me to feel his breath. The playful tone he was using gave me goose bumps all over.

  “I said… that it’s very difficult… to have manners with you.”

  He put his hands on my breasts and caressed them. I bit my lower lip.

  “Do you know I can interpret that as being vulgar?”

  He pinched one of my breasts.

  “And how would you interpret that you make me feel like throwing you on that sofa behind you, tearing off your underwear, and thrusting myself in you until New Years?”

  I bit my tongue, because I was out of things to bite.

  “I would say that would be vulgar on your part, and that there was no need to tear off my underwear…” I paused to allow the butterflies fluttering in my stomach to breathe, “…because I’m not wearing any.”

  I noticed how his lewd smile let his perfect teeth shine through. I began to take off my clothes and my morals: sweater, blouse, bra, pants…

  “You lied. You are wearing underwear,” he complained with a look of forced offense on his face.

  “You can’t deny how provocative it was for you to imagine me without them.”

  It took little effort to remove the last article of clothing I was wearing–one that I wish I could have taken off first. I took my cup of champagne, bit into one of the strawberries, and lay down on the sofa as an overt invitation to my companion. Indeed, desire and obscenity were in his eyes.

  “And what do you suppose a vulgar man like myself would do now?” He tried to control his halting voice.

  “You could join me and whisper some of those obscenities that you have in your mind into my ear.”

  Eliezer put his hand on his crotch and rubbed the bulge that was forming in his pants. He approached me with his hand still in its obscene performance and whispered in my ear.

  “And what if I tell you that I’d like to imagine what you could do without me?”

  This time, the blush did make its appearance. Oh! He wants to see what I can do with myself. No. Eliezer was not a man of insinuations. He was asking me.

  He moved back with a smile on his face and took a seat facing the sofa. He again put his hands between his legs.

  What the hell am I doing? How do I start? Into what sort of predicament have you gotten yourself, Miranda Wise?

  Eliezer figured that I was nervous and he smiled.

  “Nervous?” I didn’t answer. “Relax, Miranda. Imagine that you’re alone and bored after a long day at the office.”

  I closed my eyes, but I didn’t feel the same, so I opened them. I needed to see his face up close. I needed inspiration. I closed my eyes again. I imagined him caressing my bust with his rude hands, exploring my most intimate parts with his tongue.

  I opened my eyes again. I found myself with him and his grimace of excitement. His eyes were fixed on my hands that were desperately rubbing my flaming sex. He remained in his chair, with one hand on his thigh and the other hand holding the glass of champagne.

  I accelerated the movement with which my fingers rocked and concentrated on my breathing. I felt his hands open a path between my legs. This time, I wasn’t fantasizing. Eliezer touched me with the same desperation. He caressed me and introduced his fingers. He helped me accelerate my rhythm, introducing me to energetic, shameless sensations.

  Then came the orgasm. I started moaning. My whole body shook involuntarily. My brain rattled. I controlled my breaths again until the air started to clarify the blackness of my imagination. I came back to my senses and there he was, seated by my side, naked except for a condom.

  “You’ve done an excellent job, Miss Wise. It would be an honor for me to take it from here.”

  Those words were what I needed to lose myself in the feeling that his lips provoked as they caressed my vagina. I lost myself in the enduring sensation as his tongue followed its path to the right spot.

  The licking went from delicate to rough. Within seconds, I managed to lose myself on my way to that murky place so removed from reality. He was merciless. It didn’t matter to him that I was recently satisfied and a little drained: he took me by the hair to the windows. He forced me to remain standing and backed up near the window. He closed in, pressing my back against the glass. He grabbed me by the waist and kissed my neck, shoulders, and breasts. When I least expected it, he paused.

  “You can’t miss this, Miranda Wise.”

  He turned me so that I faced the window overlooking the grand celebration. Eliezer grabbed me from behind. He held me by the hips so that I wouldn’t slip away, as I had not yet regained my strength. He spread my legs with his feet and penetrated me. His body didn’t delay in coupling with mine… we became one.

  His movements were reviving my lost strength. The fireworks on the outside with him on the inside were enough to drive me crazy. I welcomed the New Year in a suite in Times Square, while the man who stole my heart, made me his own.

  Eliezer’s face was reflected in the glass–his eyes were lost in me–though the sweat from our hands promptly dulled it and my breath fogged it. I didn’t want to miss the moment when he would explode, so I turned around and pushed him toward the sofa. He fell, enjoying the sudden aggressiveness. I climbed up onto his lap. We again became one body. This time, my hips assaulted his. My vagina received him. It was already familiar with the sporadic vibrations that he induced. The intensity of his face was overwhelming and exiting. I predicted that soon he’d reach his climax, when he would squint, leaving only a little bit of green visible.

  “This is what I don’t want to miss,” I whispered in his ear… and that whisper was detonating. One of his hands imprisoned my hips. The other did what it should on my rear. He put two fingers in a place he had never before explored. He unleashed a chain of sensations that provoked my vagina to strangle his sex inside of me.

  We moved with force, out of control and aggressive between strong breaths and groans. We were prisoners of a powerful electric current.

  God, this is heaven! How and why have I made myself dependent on this man?

  Our bodies convulsed at once.

  “I love you,” I whispered, my head buried in his neck.

  Shit! What did I say? I suppose that confession will remain etched in my mind! Shit! Shit!

  Shit!

  The weight of my words didn’t allow me to draw back from the skin of his neck. His hands directed my face to his.

  “I’m sorry, that shouldn’t have come out of my mouth.” I murmured too soon.

  It wasn’t true. I didn’t regret expressing myself. I loved him. I learned to love him. I couldn’t deny it. I didn’t want to live without him for a second, and my big mouth had ruined the night.

  He kept my face between his hands, looking into my eyes, processing every one of my crazy words. The more he seemed to consider them, the more the havoc they made in him.

  “We’ll pretend that the last second of this night didn’t happen,” I whispered.

  Eliezer drew me close and kissed my forehead.

  “Happy New Year.” He smiled. “You are now part of history.”

  I thought I should ease the uncomfortable tension even more.

  “It happened as I had imagined it,” I paused to wet my lips, “totally boring.”

  With a smile on his lips, he lifted me off him. He slapped my behind, got up out of the couch a bit, and reached for the table. He picked up the glasses of champagne and the plate with strawberries. The smell of sex, champagne, and strawberries were lik
e taking nitroglycerine for slight dizziness. It made me nauseous. I got up off the sofa, ran to the bathroom, and slammed the door behind me. It was my stomach again.

  “Are you ok?” He opened the door after hearing me flush. I was still holding on to the toilet.

  “Yes.” I reached out for him to hand me one of the towels that were hanging on the wall. “Next time, make sure to take me to a hotel that serves good champagne.”

  Eliezer smiled, but there was no happiness in it… rather there was worry.

  “Are you sure you’re ok?”

  “If you don’t get dressed quickly, I won’t be.” He didn’t look convinced. “Don’t worry, Eliezer, it’s nothing that we’ll have to worry about,” I said in a clear tone of voice. This time he looked convinced.

  He got up and helped me to my feet with both hands.

  “Go take a shower.” He winked at me. “You stink!”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  I tried to seduce him into showering with me. He rejected my invitation with a subtle gesture.

  “We only have twenty four hours left…”

  His hands in his pockets and unshaved, Eliezer paced quickly from one side of the lounge to the other. I could hardly see through the fogged windows, where immense drops of rain were running down. A blurred light could be seen in the distance, and then, nothing. Only rain and more rain and gray. “Who thinks of traveling in this kind of weather?” I asked in a low voice, because I was talking to myself. I adjusted my hair back and smiled. “Who else?”

  I turned. Eliezer was no longer pacing. He had leaned against a wall, in that posture that was so his own: legs and arms crossed, a man filled with defenses. It was his turn to wait. Two hours after departure time, and the runways were still closed–something about zero visibility.

  My heels clicked until I was near him. I had to tell him. I wanted him to know. Both of us needed a sense of security. I touched his shoulder.

  “I’m going to the ladies room.” I caressed his chin with my hand and winked. “My period is a little early.” Eliezer nodded silently, only half smiling.

  When I returned, Eliezer’s posture had changed. He was speaking calmly to a tall man with brown hair. He looked like he was about Norman’s age.

  As I approached them, the man began staring at my body. He gave me goose bumps. Eliezer noticed that his company was distracted and turned around. His expression quickly changed and he smiled timidly. His lower lips moved, as though his own mouth betrayed him because he realized that smile was inadequate. He reached out his hand.

  “Miranda, this a business acquaintance of mine. His name is Paul.” He paused in a way that seemed deliberate.

  The man grabbed my hand and shook it. He finished saying his whole name.

  “W. Hopgood.”

  I didn’t have a chance to respond. A man came to us and told us that the runways had opened and we were welcome to board the jet. I said goodbye to Mr. Hopgood with a nod and left the trio, thinking Eliezer would follow. Then I heard a whisper from a distance behind me. It didn’t come from Eliezer. I turned my head and noticed Eliezer’s perennial face. No more tranquility nor hope for contentment, only annoyance… a great deal of annoyance.

  Grabbing my bag and his, I went back and, with a look, forced him to excuse himself from the unfinished conversation. The mysterious man remained where we had left him, looking at us. Eliezer began to walk. I took him by the arm and, although I was unfamiliar with their private conflict, I commented:

  “Don’t let anything ruin the last forty eight hours.”

  Eliezer smiled.

  We boarded the jet and as soon as we were seated, I took off my coat and my jersey and sat on his lap and kissed him.

  And has this trip relieved you of your bad memories, Eliezer Clausell? Has it relieved you of your bad moods and grief?

  Eliezer eased me off in a mixture of tenderness and rudeness.

  “Wise, I don’t think that it would be prudent for you to kiss me now that way. First, you are not in a position to satisfy my needs…”

  I furrowed my brow and didn’t allow him to continue.

  “I have a marvelous mouth and two hands that work miracles.” I kissed him again, my hand between his legs.

  Eliezer’s sex quickly responded. When he felt that he was on the verge of losing his judgment and tearing off my clothes, he separated his mouth from mine slightly. I felt his warm breath caressing my lips.

  “Allow me to inform you, Miss Wise,” he continued, caressing the rebellious hair that adorned my forehead, “that we’ve boarded a plane which, although not commercial, lacks privacy and we’re at the mercy of various natural and human variables, as well as destiny.” He smiled mischievously and fixed the strap on my blouse that had come loose, taking advantage of the opportunity to caress my shoulder and neck.

  I was overcome with hot and cold flashes. I closed my eyes and my whole body surrendered to a mild earthquake. Eliezer tickled my ear with kisses, and softly asked me:

  “If you don’t get up in the next three seconds, Miranda, I’ll have to go to the restroom in mid-flight and pretend to call for your help.”

  The roughness of his tongue invaded my mouth. Rude and shameless, he put a hand on one of my breasts and squeezed. So I was the one to move away.

  “It sounds interesting, Clausell. The perfect way of ending this adventure.”

  I thought my words would excite him, but that didn’t happen. The bulge in his pants lost its strength. His smile faded and he withdrew his hands from me.

  “What happened? Was it something that I said?”

  “Damn, Miranda! Is that what you think of this?” He said in a low but intense voice, as though it were fading in the fog of a rainy dusk. “A damn adventure?”

  So that was the word that yanked away the smile from his lips and the arousal from his body. I was left baffled. If it wasn’t an adventure, then what was it?

  What puzzled me even more: Why did he react so dramatically to an innocent comment, but didn’t react so intensely, or positively, at least, when I told him that I loved him? This man is going to drive me crazy…”

  With both hands, I hooked my hair behind my ears and licked my lips.

  “I didn’t mean it that way, Eliezer, but now that we’re on the subject, tell me, if it wasn’t an adventure, what was it?”

  Silence eased the roar of the Gulfstream engines that was preparing for take-off. Eliezer didn’t take his eyes off me. I explained myself better.

  “You said that we’d live for the moment. That’s exactly what I’m doing, Clausell. I’m following your advice.”

  He stood up suddenly, without warning me. I was about to fall, and I don’t know how my reflexes could have been faster than my reasoning. I grabbed one of the armrests and regained my balance. Has he gone mad?

  Eliezer grabbed me by the arm. He pulled me toward him, turned me around and forced me to walk ahead, causing me to trip on the carpeting. We got to the restroom and he thrust me inside with a shove, followed me in, and secured the latch. He didn’t stop squeezing my arm. My heart beat so scandalously, that not even the din of the jet engines silenced the thumping. That was the sensation that filled me every time he grabbed me that way.

  The uncertainty of what would happen next took my breath away. His breathing was heavy and deep and his stare was cold. He gave me another light push and an order. With no time to think about what I was doing, I sat on the cover of the toilet seat. Eliezer grabbed the zipper of his pants with the hand that hurt my arm.

  “Do you want to know how to end an adventure?” he murmured.

  He drew down his zipper. He tangled his fingers in my hair and tugged, pulling me in, and just as quickly, he let me go and slapped the wall with his hand. We looked at each other without blinking. Our eyes were bright: his with fury, mine with sadness. This is not how I would have imagined it. Two tears ran down my face.

  Eliezer became himself again and noticed my expre
ssion of fear and disappointment. He zipped his pants. He didn’t apologize. I imagined the moment as if it were another brush stroke in the paintings that covered his back. Had he experienced scenes like the ones flooding my mind? Were they with other women? How many? I opened and closed my mouth, but not to speak. What kinds of things has this man done? I came out of my stupor. My eyes started itching. I got up.

  “Move away from the door, please.” I wiped my cheeks with my hand. I was blinking more than usual. Coldness enveloped my voice, but it wasn’t due to our altitude. Eliezer made no other moves. He stayed quiet. Frozen.

  “Eliezer, please. Stop ruining the best time of my life.” I pleaded. The walls began closing in on my shoulders. With every blink of my eyes, the space seemed to become more and more confined.

  He punched the countertop of the sink, which made me jump from the start. If I hadn’t kept my mouth shut, my heart would have come out of my chest.

  “Shit!” he yelled, and then, calmly, “I’m sorry, Miranda. Truly, I’m sorry.”

  I spoke quickly, without caring much about the meaning of Eliezer’s words.

  “Yes, yes. Apology accepted. Now, please, move away from the damned door.” It wasn’t the time to argue. I wanted to get out. I wanted to be out of his reach.

  He moved, but not away, rather he got out of the way by moving in the other direction, toward where I had been standing. He sat down on the toilet, with his head in his hands. It hurt me to see him like that. His soul in tatters, a prisoner of frustration, but I couldn’t do anything for him. Not this time.

  I needed to move away and get out, to stop consuming myself so much with him, to console my soul. I turned the latch on the door, and stepped out. I left the door half-open. I collapsed in the nearest seat. Between tears, the smell of freshly upholstered leather and coldness in my chest, I dozed off. I don’t know how long Eliezer stayed in the bathroom.

  ***

  I awoke and he was by my side, in the seat nearest the other side of the aisle. He was asleep, or at least, he was trying. Seeing him there, with his face still twisted by the demons that pursued him, he confused me. I noticed that, with our breathing in sync, Eliezer was stripped little by little, once and for all, of all of those demons, while I… I had not noticed soon enough that all of that weight had accumulated, little by little, and more and more every time, in me.