The woman in the glass had long fiery red hair that fell on her shoulders like a bright red curtain, her eyes sparkled with a dark melancholic grey, her lips were full and tainted bright red. Her pale skin glowed in the bathroom light; a little pink pimple appeared close to her nose, ruining her perfect veil of porcelain skin. Adding a last coating of mascara, she opened her small pillbox, sighing as she noticed the single pill in the orange bottle. She dropped it into her palm and looked down at it. She shrugged, putting the pill back into the box; it was her last, she might need it more urgently.
She scrutinized herself into the mirror. Had she lost or gained or lost weight? Had she grown wrinkles? Was her skin too pale? Were her lips not full enough? And her eyes, where they too big or too grey? She put her hands on both sides of the sink holding herself as a sob almost left her lips.
What is this man doing to you? You're pathetic. C'mon Gage! Get a fucking grip.
Oh! And she was hearing voices now. Gage looked up. Two weeks had gone by since the last time they'd seen each other. Since the last time she'd felt his lips on hers, skin against skin. She gasped raising her head to face her reflection. John sure knew how to ruin a party. She chuckled.
-FLASHBACK-
That night in the car…
"Gage, I can't do this!" he sighed, looking away from her naked body.
"You're already doing it Johnny…" she held his face. Deep pools of blue, filled with uncertainty and innocence. So much innocence…too much innocence…
"No…Liz…I can't…" he took her hands away from his neck holding them sturdily.
"You want this. I do too. Just us Johnny…now…here…" she leaned down to kiss his neck.
"Oh Gage…" he moaned as she nipped on his collarbone. His erection resurged and she smiled a wicked grin of victory in her head.
"Oh Johnny…" she accompanied, grinding her hips against his erection. She rose to take his earlobe between her teeth; squeezing just a little.
"Touch me…" she'd gasped taking his hands into hers courageously. Directing his large hands on her body, she pulled herself back…so he can admire the view. She pushed his hands upwards from her waist, sliding up her sides, then she paused momentarily before they reached her breasts.
She let go of his hands; giving him free will to explore at his own pace… as he desired. Gage opened her eyes, looking into his blue seas that shun in the night-light. The sound of the cars muted in the back, and as they paraded outside their prison of steel, their lights reflected against the window of the back seat, creating a myriad of lights dancing to their side. His hands finally rose, cupping both breasts with his hands. Tension released from around her shoulders and John's thumb pushed on her nipples lightly.
Wow…She hadn't felt this in a long time. She closed her eyes at the exquisite sensation. She moaned in joy; and pride aware of the way her body reacted to him. John pulled her down, and bite into her neck unexpectedly. It was painful; she winced; but quickly recovered. If that's how he liked it…
Their lustful encounter was disturbed again, by the brooding noise emanating from John's pocket. Her eyes shot close, as his hands stopped stroking her and his mouth separated from her neck. In a nanosecond, he was staring up at her; baby blue eyes lost and hurt, muttering a quick apology to her and helping her with her dress as fast as he could. He exited the backseat of his black 4x4, leaving her to put her dress back on. She heard him from outside, talking to someone on the phone; it was probably Liz…she was probably getting suspicious, sniffing her nose over his tone on the other end of the line, trying to discern a lie in his voice.
"Yeah…I know we're late…Gage talked to the receptionist…yeah it's available…Sometime in September I think…Yeah…I love you too baby." He finished.
Back into the car, she was seated into the passenger's seat next to John. She could feel a palpable tension from his body; probably anger…she looked up at him unconcerned with his mood.
"Are you happy?" he gripped the wheel tightly. She could see the veins on his fists straightening.
"Do I have a reason to be?" she answered bitterly.
"Never…ever pull something like that again Gage!" he hissed, trying to contain his anguish.
"You didn't seem to mind…" she muttered provocatively.
"It doesn't matter!" he hissed louder. Gage shifted lightly in her seat, and turned to face him.
"This…is…wrong." He said slowly, his voice calmer. He looked up; completely confused and baffled. Gage's expression remained blank and impassive and John's eyes narrowed.
"Don't you feel any guilt? Ever?" he asked, bewildered.
"You've asked me this already John…" she started. "My answer hasn't changed. No." she replied sternly.
"What kind of person are you?" he asked, his eyes growing wider with shock and…sadness?
"Cut it John! I just know what I want, I don't have horns and a pointy tail!" she snapped.
"I wish you did…" he said softly, his mood apparently lighter.
"Would that turn you on?" she smiled coquettishly, and John's jaw tensed again.
"Why do you do this Gage? Why me? What have I done to you?" he asked pitifully.
Gage shifted into her seat again, looking through her window away from John. She'd never asked herself that question…what had he done? What had he done to deserve what she put him through? What had any of the men she'd seduced done to deserve this?
What was it about married men...or perhaps men in general? The ones she decided to lay her eyes on. Why couldn't she just go for the ones who were not taken? As she thought about it, the only men she'd had serious affairs had all been married. From Mr Dekker; in tenth grade to present day John Cena…
"What are you thinking about?"
"Mr Dekker…" she answered dreamily.
"Who's that?"
"My science teacher in tenth grade…"
"What about him?"
Gage looked back at John.
"You denied me sex tonight John, you've been denying me sex since forever…why would I quench your thirst for knowledge about my past?"
John's eyes widened for a second, and he opened his mouth to say something but he closed it again.
"You wanted to know why you? There- I only do married men Johnny; that's all that turns me on. I could contempt myself with young men ready to lay the world at my feet but, I'll always want more John, it's like it'll never…" she drifted.
"Like it'll never be enough?" he finished. Gage nodded.
"Never enough. With men like…well like you…I know I can enjoy myself; well aware its not going to last. You know…like a debit card…"
"A…debit…card?" he asked, slightly amused. Gage chuckled.
"That's all I could come up with. All pecuniary thoughts aside." She giggled.
"But you…John Cena…you play in a different league." She continued, staring up at the side of his face.
"I don't play at all."
"That's what you all think. It's normal to feel the way you do…guilty? But that's what you get for obeying two masters." She explained.
"You seem to know a great deal about this."
"I've observed; learned with time...Don't worry, you'll get used to it."
"Gage, I've told you…I don't want to do this…I've never cheated on anyone…I love Liz."
"Wait! Not even a girlfriend in high school? College?" she questioned, and he shook his head.
"Please…tell me you've had sex with someone else than your wife…" she gaped at him, searching his eyes for the truth.
"Oh Baby Jesus…" she sighed.
"Here we go…I knew we'd come to this…"
"How? I mean…you're rich, you're good-looking, and…you're rich!" she gaped at him, and John chuckled.
"I thought you said all pecuniary details aside…"
"This is something else Cena…John-I-fucking-fucked-one-woman-only- Cena!" she covered her face with her two hands.
"No need to shout it on all roofs."
"I just…I don't know…I thought you had…I thought this wasn't new to you!"
"A sentence Gage…" he smiled. "Does it conclude it then?"
"It doesn't even introduce it. I still want you badly, and much more now." She added, a malicious grin on her face. John's smiled faded, and he tensed again around the wheel.
"Do you want me John?"
"Yes."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Really. Isn't it obvious?"
"You're very confusing; you send mixed signals."
"You do same." He said, Gage furrowed her eyebrows at him.
"Some day you're smiling funny, flirty Gage, the next you're closed-up, dark, steamy Gage. It's hard to know which one is the real."
"Which one do you prefer?"
"Honestly?" he asked, and she nodded.
"I don't know where it lies between the two but…" he stared down at her for a second, she nodded and he continued.
"I liked the one who told me about her insecurities at that barbecue; next to the pool…"
Oh…Security breach…
"Okay."
"So…your science teacher…"
"You don't want to know about that. Let's get going, we've been parked here for a while, Liz will worry." She objected, turning back the window.
"Since when do you worry about Liz?" John asked putting the key back into the ignition. Gage turned to him momentarily, and cocked her head to the side.
"Since I've wanted to fuck her husband."
-FLASHBACK-
John untied his shoelaces, putting down his duffle bag on the floor. He slipped out of his shoes and his sweaty t-shirt; Liz had gone for an impromptu meeting with her sister for the modelling agency. He'd had the week off because of all the fuss about Summerslam. They gave him a brief summer break, before they loaded work upon him. So many interviews, appearances, photo shoots, signings, commercials, and all the signing for the derived merchandise. John sighed. Despite all that; the one thing that had plagued his mind was a fiery red head, with a skin as soft as satin, and plunging grey eyes.
He stripped off his shorts and underwear, and headed for the shower. Under the hot water, he started to think. He could not even escape her in the privacy of his home; she'd always be there haunting his thoughts. She talked about guilt the other day in the car, but what he felt did not come close to it. He felt good…alive; he felt master of his life for once. It was like she'd contaminated him with a disease; it was eating up his defences slowly; but would he ever go through with her? He'd still felt he was the same man when he'd come home to Liz.
Was he that heartless? Had he become like her? She said he'd get used to this; but how does she know I'll go for it? How can she be so sure? Perhaps…she isn't; and she might just be testing her luck.
He'd wanted her so badly though. In that backseat, after she'd left, there was still the smell of her on his clothes, in the car, every where; daring him to go back to her, and go through with once and for all. Gage looked so vulnerable; so accessible when he'd touched her; so different from her usual self. He wished he could see her like that more; but would he have the guts to put his hand on her again.
The real question was…how long will you resist putting your hands on her.
He sighed again wrapping a towel around himself as he exited the shower. He closed his eyes; and automatically, the vision of long white legs around his waist, red toenails, and long red locks slipping through his fingers. It was very unsettling; all this desire. He was becoming so absent-minded, so oblivious. He looked down at the floor has he dried his short hair with another towel. Walking towards the bed, he saw little red toenails…long white legs; his face shoot upwards immediately.
"Hey Johnny." She smiled warmly. Like the angel of death, she was at the same time welcome and uninvited. She was jaw-dropping beautiful; she wore what looked like a leather bustier dress, hair in soft vintage curls that fell graciously down her shoulders and onto the bed as she rested on her elbows, legs crossed, bright red lips into a smile, certainly laughing at his staggered face.
"I've missed you." She added, rising from her elbows and sitting up right.
"I've missed you more." He poured, not even knowing he had. She gaped at him for a second, then smiled widely; all teeth showing; apparently flattered by his confession.
"Where to?" he asked, looking up then down at her.
"The Jaworski exhibition. Remember?" she stood up to face him. John nodded.
"The photographer…Oh." He acquiesced. The silence was there; but it was not heavy. Her eyes gleamed with hope and John could feel it was directed to him. Blame him for being a man and loving it.
"I took an extra ticket in case you'd want to come…" she broke their stare, searching for her purse and produced a wide black piece of paper and handed it to him.
"But…how are you getting there?" he frowned…concerned?
"I have a car now." She reassured him. It hit him. This wasn't the place…nor the time; they were in his house, in his conjugal bedroom, he was in a towel, and she…no words come as remotely close as the truth; may be drop dead gorgeous.
"You like my dress? It's by Yves Saint Laurent."
"I have no idea who that is; but you look stunning Gage." He gaped. She reached up and pulled his chin upwards to close his mouth.
"Leather can do that to a woman." She chuckled, running her hands through her Hollywood curls. He wanted to run his hands in them too.
"I hope you didn't have any plans for tonight…" she asked.
I'd cancel them anyway…
"No; nothing." He breathed, not being able to say anything else. The effect of this woman's stare was way too obvious.
"It would be unfortunate to miss this. The guy has very good pictures." She looked up at him. It was like she was saying something else with her eyes, a proposal.
"I'm sure he does."
"Oh John…" she moved forwards, and her hands landed on his naked chest. She brushed with her fingertips his pecs, his abs, the trace of his hipbones, and then her index ran down the spot of his happy trail. He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, then grabbed her wrists.
"No…please." He begged, holding her hands in the air. She held her hands out, asking him to release her.
"I'll see you later." She smiled warmly again, she turned away quickly; out of his room. He heard the click-clack of her black peep-toe heels on the stairs and finally, the door slammed downstairs. He stared at the spot where he'd last seen her, and inhaled sharply the piquant odour she left behind her.
At the Michael Murphy Gallery.
"Miss Jansen; good to see you again!" Mr Barns, looking his usual coloured self. He wore a bright pink shirt tucked in navy blue pants and a bright yellow bow-tie. She smiled at his audacity.
"Barns, the pleasure's all mine." She greeted handing him her invitation.
"You didn't come with your err…friend?" he asked, looking sideways. Gage's face fell slightly.
"Not this time no." she said, without further explanation. He smiled a compassionate smile to her.
"Darling, look at you…you should have three men on your arm. Here." He handed her a glass of champagne with a strawberry in the bottom of the glass.
"Rather be alone than with the wrong person…" she pushed her hair back.
"You look lovely dear, c'mon give a push to the girls and…go get 'em."
"Debauched old man…" she tapped his shoulder playfully and he laughed.
"Huh Darling…" he called again and Gage looked back at him.
"Mr Jaworski is here; he was very pleased to see your name on the guests' list. He asked me to tell you to join him at the bar when you arrived." He said, winking at her, she responded with another wink.
"Very…debauched old man!" she mouthed at him.
The Michael Murphy was at its splendour; the wooden floor perfectly polished even reflected the light from the mini spotlights, soft music played in the back. She trusted his taste in order to make a good expo. The room buzzed with noise; there were journalists…and well other people who might be important as well. She recognized the photographs of Nicholas; abstract, intrinsic, and imposing. She stopped in front of a water droplet in which the night-lights reflected; she smiled sipping on her champagne. She walked to the next; it was a woman, under water in a long white dress, with eyes closed, twisting her body in a pretty uncomfortable posture. She looked around, photographs of the same woman paraded, with raven hair and wearing the same white dress. She smiled; Nicholas had finally found a muse of his own. She moved to the far end of the gallery, noticing a photograph that covered the dislocated wall's length. She gasped.
"Gage Jansen." A familiar voice called besides her.
"Nicholas Jaworski." She turned, smiling warmly at him.
"I feared I'd never see you again…" he took her hand and kissed it lightly. Nicholas Jaworski; thirty, tall with and blond curly hair he'd tied to the back of his head. He wore a dark blue suit, with a white linen shirt, unbuttoned at the top.
"You're beautiful…as ever Miss Jansen." He said, squeezing her hand gently.
"Flattery will get you no where near my good graces Nicholas." She replied coldly, turning to the photograph in front of her.
"I...I am sorry Miss Jansen; it's one of the most appreciated pictures of the collection." He pleaded.
"You mean…you've exposed it before?" she turned to stare at him.
"Yes. I love it very much too, I've had many offers for it."
"Oh…Nicholas." she sighed.
"You're beautiful; I wanted the world to see it. I wanted the world to see I saw you like this." He pointed proudly to the photograph.
"You know how I feel about being a muse…" she sipped on her champagne.
"Just this one. I had to fight with Céline to expose it." He gestured, pointing to a woman with long raven hair, talking to a journalist. The same woman on almost all the photographs; Gage looked up pitifully at him; then back at the painting.
She was sitting on the floor, with her legs beneath her and her arms between her legs; her face looking upwards, eyes closed and lips parted softly. She was naked, but both her feet and hands were covered in paint. Her hair fell loosely, covering her breasts. The ends of her hair had been dipped into various colours so, the remains dropped to the floor. It had all been Nicholas' idea; he'd only seen a few of her paintings back then, yet he incorporated her art so perfectly into the photograph; it ceased to be just another photograph of nude woman. It spoke volumes about her. It was her entire life in a photograph; her and her art, period.
"Miss Jansen; this is Céline; my muse." Nicholas introduced distracting her from her reverie. The woman with long raven hair appeared, her small dark eyes made her appear like some fallen angel; they were big and her little pointy nose fitted her slim face perfectly.
"Enchantée." Gage said, stretching her hand. Her eyes widened slightly.
"Enchantée." She replied, letting her French accent be heard, taking Gage's hand warmly.
"Nicholas was not mistaken; you are very beautiful."
"I can return the compliment." Gage said, raising her glass and taking a hasty sip; another journalist called Céline and left Gage and Nicholas alone once more.
"Miss Jansen; America seems to love you; I heard you're exposing in a week as well." Nicholas said. Absentmindedly, he tucked her hand under his and walk her into the room.
"Indeed. I hope you will be present."
"Oh, I would not miss that for all the vodka in Russia." He grinned, and Gage smiled.
"Are you sure? You know I'm a fine lover of your country's vodka. It's my favourite."
"Perhaps, we could share some drinks later if you don't mind."
"Oh no. This is your night Nicholas; I will not give you a way out of this; not even for a fine bottle of Zyr." Gage laughed as they stopped in front of another photograph.
"Who talked about Zyr? Imperia most certainly would do for a woman like you." He flattered, taking her hand once more and brought it to his lips softly as he looked into her eyes. Their stare was broken as some called Mr Jaworski in the other end of the room. He let go of her hand.
"If you'll excuse-me…don't disappear. Please." He said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and kissing her cheek lightly. She might've blushed for a second, but as soon as he left the sensation faded with him. A waiter came by, taking her empty glass of champagne, and replacing it with a full one. He offered her a warm smile as she thanked him and vanished between the people. She wandered around every dislocated wall, looking at photographs. A woman came to her accompanied by another man; they both smiled up at her.
"You're La Dame en peinture?" A strawberry blond woman said, smiling widely at her. Gage eyed them both quizzically.
"The woman on the photograph over there?" she pointed to the photograph of her naked. Gage nodded lightly.
"He must be one lucky man." The lady replied; her smile directed at over her shoulder.
"Who?" Gage asked. The woman smiled innocently, taking the man's hand and leading him away; enjoying their own company. Gage shrugged, turning back to the photograph of Céline in the grass wearing yet another white dress. A large frame in a black suit obstructed her line of vision, so she raised her face to look up; one of the mini spotlights came right into her vision and she blinked slightly as her vision adjusted again.
"…John."