Okay, I'll get this up today! I hope it's not rife with mistakes; my poor beta Amy can't keep up with me these days (my mistake, not hers). Wow, thanks for your awesome reviews, again many of you are making me laugh. Hey lurkers, double thank.
- Leesainthesky
Ch 60 DenialI've heard it said that those who talk to themselves are in no real danger of insanity unless they also answer. I was prone to doing both, but in this instance, I hadn't been afforded the time to answer the cease and desist order I'd given to my lurching stomach.
"Waa?" I snapped upright at the sudden sound of a human voice followed by the whistle of the boiling teakettle.
"Oh my so sorry dear it was not my intention to startle you." Erik apologized.
"It's my stomach; I'm still nauseous for some strange reason. Talking to it as if it was a separate entity might be helpful," I reasoned matter-of-factly.
Erik frowned, pursed his lips and raised his hand to my cheek. "Have you a fever?"
"No, no chills either." I waved off the parental gesture. "I don't get it; I suppose it's a reaction to stress. It'll get better soon," I said for my benefit as much as for his.
"Let me fix you tea and dry toast; you sit and rest." Erik pulled out a chair for me, waiting like the gentleman he was, so he could push it back in for me.
Erik paused behind me. His hand touched the back of my head and he began to stroke my hair casually.
"Do not make yourself ill with worry, Gabrielle, it is pointless darling."
"Easy for you to say, the ball seems to be in your court."
"An unusual capitulation from Madame twenty-first century, is it not?" He made an attempt to humor me.
"I've always been lousy at tennis."
I watched Erik fix my tea, adding just the right amount of milk into it. He placed the china cup before me with a jar of honey. "The honey will help settle you stomach. Sweeten your tea with it and spoon a bit onto your toast."
Erik; the worry in his jade eyes softened my apprehension and I granted him a weak smile. I fought the urge to suggest other ways to enjoy the sticky golden nectar.
I thrust my spoon into the thick honey and watched it create a slow wave around the utensil. I allowed a thin stream to drizzle back into the jar. I stirred the honey into my tea then lifted the spoon from the cup. A sheen of the nectar still clung to the silver utensil so I lifted it to my tongue and licked it, savoring the taste of the condiment.
Erik missed none of this, when I flicked my gaze to his face, he appeared momentarily mesmerized; in his eyes I read lascivious intent.
What in the blazes is wrong with you? I questioned my intentions.
You swore off sex with this man until he stopped his waffling and made a definitive choice about your relationship and now you're baiting him.
"Psst," said the little devil on my shoulder, "but you like boinking Erik, you really, really like it don't you Gabrielle?"
"But you treasure your self-respect more don't you, countered tiny angel on my other shoulder? What sort of a wimpy-Wilma would you be if you surrendered to Erik's self-serving lusts?"
"Wimpy-Wilma my little red tushie," argued Devil girl. "What if this is your last chance to get that fine piece of man flesh between your thighs, huh, I mean, look at him will ya? Tall, dark and well hung, and he knows how to work it, girl."
Yes, I had to agree with my lusty alter ego; he certainly knew how to work it.
"Hey," my libido piped up, "now there's a workable angle; if we have sex with Erik before he takes off for the city, it wouldn't necessarily be for his pleasure, but for ours. Nothing says forget-me-not like a rousing round of good-bye sex. Such measures won't necessarily keep a man, but it can't hurt if he dumps us and the new woman doesn't measure up to you in bed. C'mon, Gabrielle. How about one for the road?"
What the hell was this, self-mutiny?
The silver spoon was still in my mouth.
At some point during my internal sparing between the good Gabrielle and the naughty Gabrielle, I'd stuck it back into the honey pot and up to my mouth for another display of my oral dexterity.
With a teacup and saucer resting in one large hand, and the other bracing against the edge of the stove, Erik's eyes lingered on my mouth as I licked honey from the spoon.
"You could channel your energies onto a more appreciative instrument, dear."
My eyes focused on Erik's, "Um?" I mumbled, with the spoon still in my mouth,
"The spoon Gabrielle, please, the sight of your tongue laving over it is disconcerting. Are you trying to seduce me? If so, I'm at a loss to your intentions, you've requested a suspension of our lovemaking; yet I find you taunting my libido mercilessly. Why the mixed messages, I do not understand."
Oh my, seduction had not been my conscious intent, but I could tell by his wrinkled brow and pleading tone that Erik was indeed serious.
"Erik, sweetheart," I laughed shortly, "Really, I'm not trying to seduce you right now, I just spaced out while I licked the honey from the spoon. I love the stuff and it seems to help settle my stomach. I'm not a Delilah."
The scent of sandalwood and ylang ylang touched my nose. Erik was running a hand through his hair, ruffling the neat coiffure and sending a mixture of pomade and his personal musk through the room. It was a provocative scent with the power to remind me of how heavenly it felt to lay with his warm nakedness.
"Gabrielle, I know that I am—confused. Though I respect your decision to refrain from physical intimacy, it would seem as if you mean to arouse me by becoming more enticing every day."
"Well, I'm not Erik. Could you simply be seeing me in a different light therefore distorting your perception?"
"I see. I beg your pardon for my gross misconception."
"Erik, I know you enjoy our lovemaking; I enjoy it too, immensely in fact. I would never, ever use my charms to get back at you, I hope you know that. Crazy as this may sound, I respect your need to put this thing with Christine behind you," I said while repeatedly flipping the spoon up and catching it. I missed on the fourth flip and it deflected off the tabletop and clattered against the marble floor.
"Boogers," I pushed away from the table to retrieve the spoon, still seated, I bent from over and stretched out my right arm. My fingers hardly touched the handle, but I managed to draw the utensil toward me. Erik stepped into view and knelt in front of me.
"Here, let me help you," he said.
"I've got it," I replied. As I rose, my head collided with something hard.
"Holy crap merde!' two voices cried out in pain and surprise.
The spoon skittered across the marble floor.
"Are you alright?" Erik rubbed his head with his right hand and extended his left for me to grasp.
"Good grief you have a hard head Erik." Stars danced before me and my head throbbed. Erik helped me to my feet and I grasped his wrists. Wobbling slightly, we clung to each other.
Rotating my neck back and forth a few times seemed to help alleviate the dizziness caused by our head on collision.
I peered up at Erik. He'd stopped rubbing his head, and appeared to be fine.
"You so know how to knock a girl off her feet don't you?"
The remark elicited a smile from him.
"You're alright then are you dear?" He asked softly.
"Oh, I suppose—more startled really."
An awkward silence ensued while we observed one another. Out of the sheer ridiculousness of the moment, I began to giggle and Erik broke into a hearty laugh.
"I'd say that is absolute proof that it is you who possess the propensity toward being a hard headed woman, darling."
Gasping with mock indignation, I stuck my hands on my hips. The cheeky protest perched on the end of my tongue was cut short.
Erik moved with the swiftness of a hawk on its prey, before I could blink twice, his lips were on mine and he enfolded me in an unyielding embrace.
Resistance was futile. Disappointed though I was in his need to call on his former student, I still desired his touch. I responded with enthusiasm, relaxing in his arms and matching him sigh for sigh, kiss for kiss.
He backed me into the table, slid his hand beneath my bottom and hoisted me up onto the tabletop, all the while probing the depths of my mouth with his insistent tongue.
So unexpected was this assault, that my ability to protest with reason was by-passed by more primal needs.
Erik slipped the straps of my flimsy nightgown over my shoulders and watched the silky garment fall away to my waist. Not one to wear layers of sleepwear, I was naked beneath the lightweight gray silk gown.
Erik gawked at my naked breasts. He did not ask permission when he dusted the tips of my nipples with his fingers. After fondling every inch of my breasts with skilled fingers, he switched to using his mouth.
His ability to suckle and lick me so gently and so perfectly had, on many occasions, nearly made me come.
That's one male ability I'd never heard my twenty-first century girlfriends brag about their lovers.
Surrounded by the scent of Erik's masculine musk, the bliss of his touch, and the comfort of his body's warmth, I fell deeply under the maestro's spell.
I moaned shamelessly when he pressed the palm of his hand on my mons and began rhythmically massaging the sensitive area.
"Ah, you like this don't you Gabrielle; shall I continue?"
My answer was a whimper.
A warm flood surged from within, spreading downward and spilling forth to dampen the outer flesh of my sex.
Frantically I pushed the gown down to where Erik's hand pleasured me. Like a gentleman, Erik assisted in the removal of my garment. He pushed away from me far enough to gaze at my nakedness. He smiled with satisfaction and his eyes sparkled with lustful mischief.
"You are a most glorious woman, Gabrielle."
At the same time he was admiring me, he was unhooking his trousers.
"The shirt too, I want to touch your chest," I said.
Erik obliged by unbuttoning the cuffs and neck of his lawn shirt and baring his sinewy chest to my ravenous eyes.
Oh, those mesmerizing Jade eyes, dark hair, lovely lips and long, lean body; even Erik's imperfection aroused me. The man was fine.
Damn it I hated him.
"Gabrielle, I burn for your touch. If I cannot have you, I feel I shall go mad." Erik's sex stood mere inches from its desired goal, fully engorged and purplish from the significant rush of blood to his organ.
He grasped my hips, eagerly pulling me to him and began wriggling his hips against my wet opening, desperate for entrance.
He felt magnificent.
My inner editor screamed at me; Stop this Gabrielle or Erik will always believe he is to have his way. He must learn that playing with a woman's affections and then expecting her to respond favorable to him is bad business.
"Erik," I moaned weakly. "I-I can't. I love you dearly, but I cannot do something like this less than twenty four hours before you run off to call on your former love, I just can't," I said trying to be sympathetic yet firm.
I sat up, flattened my hands against the tabletop and pushed away from his erection.
Erik's eyes widened and he clenched his jaw; hurt, confusion, and an enormous dose of frustration skittered across his face converging into a mass of emotion that looked a lot like anger.
He grabbed at my hips in an attempt to re-engage his body with mine.
"I said no."
"You cannot tell me no!" he growled.
"Erik, do you plan to rape me? No means no!" I crossed my legs and pushed against his chest hard and finally he released me. The anger in his face shrank along with the offending organ.
"I would never force you; surely you realize that much, Gabrielle." Erik sounded wounded.
"I sincerely hope not." I snatched my nightgown from the back of the chair where Erik had tossed it and slipped it back over my head.
"I—I thought you wanted me to…"
"I know, and I do…did. Oh Erik damn you, I've never stopped loving your or wanting you. But it pains me to give my body to a man who has another woman on his mind even if it's a little bit. I'm sorry if I'm confusing you. Hell I'm confused…cripes; I don't know how to act or what to do."
Erik walked over to the large butcher block, which I used as a cutting board and slammed his fists into the solid wood many times while cursing under his breath.
When he tired of the self-abuse, he looked up studying the ceiling, and then shook his head before turning back to me.
"I have hurt you in the most dreadful of ways haven't I? What a monster I am—a fabulously terrible excuse for a human being."
He griped the edge of the butcher block until his knuckles turned white. Swaying under the weight of his convictions, Erik steadied himself and laughed tersely,
"God hands me pure gold, yet I place it on a shelf for safe keeping while I go to look at silver for a while. My selfishness is unforgivable Gabrielle. If you desire to rid me from your life, I will not hold you accountable should you decide to leave." Erik hung his head in sorrow.
By this time, I'd hopped from the table and stood inside the kitchen door. Erik looked so pitiful; so confused by his conflicting emotions. Had I not understood what that sort of pain felt like, I would have verbally boiled him in oil; instead, I remained pragmatic in the face of his personal angst.
Tilting my head, I spoke to him in calm even tones, "Hey Erik, I realize that you must do what you must do, but just do it quickly so we can move on, okay?"
Our eyes met long enough for him to comprehend the significance of what I'd said. I walked away leaving Erik alone to ponder the consequences of his impending actions.
Later that evening I would eat my own words.
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E-gads, lust filled angst, the best kind! Please review. Your reader input is important.
-Leesa