2 WEEKS before E-DAY*
[Ephyra, 1900 hours]
Damon stood on the jade steps of the outrageously expensive hotel in his itchy new uniform, watching the crowds flow by. He was at complete loss for what to do with his last hours as a free man.
A long-legged brunette gave him the up-and-down. His ex had always told him he was handsome, but here was independent confirmation, and with perfect timing. This girl was gorgeous, clear-skinned and well-endowed. And, as it turned out after a few hours of drinking at the hotel bar, willing to go upstairs with him to his suite, a critical prerequisite for rebound sex.
Her disturbingly familiar hair proved to be a stumbling block, however. When he moved to kiss back of her neck as she unlocked his door, a whiff of freesia caught his attention. He jerked his head back. "Are you wearing perfume?" he asked.
She gave him an odd look as she set her purse on the foyer table. "Actually, no. I ran out last week, and it's expensive." She eyed him. "Why, are you offering to buy me some more?"
He ignored that. "What about your shampoo?"
The girl wrinkled her nose. "My shampoo?"
"Does it have freesia in it?"
She answered slowly. "Noooo, it's lilac. Are you feeling all right?"
He rubbed his forehead. He was starting to imagine things. "Yeah, sorry, just a little tired. You sure it's not freesia?"
She smirked. "It's not freesia. Sounds like we should get you into bed." She pulled him toward the massive bed by his uniform jacket and began unbuttoning it. He lowered his head to kiss her. Her lips felt strange, almost rubbery, and her lipstick coated his mouth with a waxy patina. He felt a rush of lust when her tongue thrust aggressively into his mouth, but then he caught himself starting to moan a familiar name against her lips.
He broke away. "Shit." He wiped his waxy mouth on the back of his hand, and it came away a disgustingly orangish red. He stared at it, and an unbidden thought reminded him that his ex only wore strawberry-flavored pink lipgloss. "Shit. Shit, shit, shit."
The girl stood hipshot, arms crossed and looking very, very pissed off. "What the hell is going on?"
He sighed, preferring to stare at the ornate ceiling rather than at her. "This isn't going to happen. Just go, okay?"
"What? You asshole, you're kicking me out? I can't believe this!"
Damon rolled his eyes and reached into his jacket pocket. He flipped open his wallet and pulled out a large bill, then hauled the girl to the door and slapped the money into her palm. "Here. Buy yourself some perfume." He tossed her purse at her and slammed the door in her angry, cussing face.
"Man, that girl can swear."
Damon flopped backwards onto the bed, grumbling and rubbing his face. 'Damn her. Damn her and her pink lipgloss and her freesia-scented shampoo and her brand-new husband. Callous bitch.' Unfortunately, his brief contact with tonight's girl had him frustrated in a way he hadn't been since before his sixteenth birthday. 'The first time we –'
He jumped to his feet and started pacing, but the memory wouldn't leave him alone. Her mouth. That green satin blouse. The taste of strawberries. His trembling hands and her uneven breathing.
"Damn it!" He kicked a fancy wooden chair across the room and it came to rest against a silk couch. "Damn it," he said more softly. 'You know what?' he thought to himself. 'Forget her husband. Forget that he's in bed with her right now. I've got a hundred of memories of her in my bed, and I can remember them any damn time I want. Any damn time.' He ground his teeth together in defiance. 'In fact, I could do it right now.'
'She was mine, goddamn it. I had her first and no one can take that from me.'
He closed his eyes. The taste of strawberries. His trembling hands and her uneven breathing. That white lace bra which came unsnapped only after an eternity of fumbling.
When he was breathing hard enough, he began a fifteen-year habit of locking himself in a room and making love to his ex-girlfriend in his mind.
# # #
Just a reminder to avoid confusion:
Chapters set in the past go BACKWARDS from E-Day.
