Chapter 3 -- Going Up
I was running late. I left Roxanne locked in the shabby room and
raced across town. The directions led me to modern apartment
building, luxury cars filled the well lighted lot. I dumped the
stolen Ford four blocks away and walked it. The lobby was plush,
the elevator all glass and chrome. She had done all right for
herself. One light tap on the door and she was there. Deep guitar
chords of country music spilled from the room. My Deana was
waiting for me.
"Joey, I am so glad you came! Woo, woo!" she cried in joy. She
did a little jiggle of her chest, a dance step to the country
music, and then ran into my arms. "When you didn't call, I
thought the worse, that you changed your mind about me."
"No way, baby. Never." I murmured in her ear. Embracing her, but
tighter, caressing her, but reaching further. Over her back, her
bottom, then sliding a hand inside of her jeans, and kicking the
door shut. I whipped my belt buckle open to make room for her
hands. "Sorry to be late, honey. Met an old friend at the
airport, had to stop and catch up on old times."
"Old times? But you never talk of your past. You said that you
worked for the CIA and some other thing, NSA or something, but I
don't care, you are with me now. You can tell me when you want
to. In the mean time, I will tell you everything about me. Since
I met you at that show in Raleigh, I just knew that you were the
man for me, and now you are here in my house. The bedroom is this
way, I can show you the rest latter.
The night was a feast of passionate sex. Deana's willing body
pushed hard by her desire to love, pushed me harder to please. We
rested, ate cold sandwiches and were all over each other again,
like horny teenagers. Morning's light found us together,
snuggling like new lovers.
"Do you remember the first time we met?" She was sitting at the
table, pink nipples almost in her scrambled eggs, as she reached
across the table.
"You were standing on the stage, looking bored. I remember being
green with envy. Your hand rubbed the curves of the boat like it
was a penis."
"Joey!" She threw a small clump of scrambled egg at me as I made
the coffee. "I did no such thing!"
"You wore white jeans and a black top, with the companies logo
over your boobs. Damn, that top showed off your tits."
"Guys! That is all they ever look at. OK wise guy. What shoes did
I have on?"
"Black sandals with a heel. Your toes were done in red. Got ya!"
I leaned over and kissed her fully on red luscious lips.
"Oh Joey, I will do anything to keep you. Love you more than
anything."
"I know, honey."
"Let me finish. I never thought that I would ever meet a man like
you. Someone that I could trust completely. I am thirty-seven
now. I have not dated for years and years. No children, my
modeling work is everything for me. I put everything I have
earned into this condo. It is my pride and joy. Eleven months a
year, I am on the road doing boat shows, car shows, tractor
pulls, you name it. Anywhere they need a pretty girl. Never quite
made the big time, guess I am not the right type, too down home.
Too much jeans and t-shirts for the New York crowd. One time I
tried to hook up with a country band, sang background stuff, but
they folded. A single woman on the road, I get offers all of the
time. I could have bought this apartment cash, if I wanted to
turn tricks. But that is not me. Oh, I am no virgin, but I save
myself for one man. I guess, that I am just a good ole, country
gal at heart. I worked hard for what little I that I do have."
She picked up the cowboy hat from the back of the chair. "Happy
in boots and a black Stetson."
"And nothing else, I see." Nude in the morning light, the aroma
of morning coffee drifting in the air, her blonde hair spilled
from beneath the black hat. Her face beamed in a broad smile.
There was only one thing I could say, "I love you, Deana Clark. I
mean that."