I smiled sadly, knowing she was right. “Yeah, I guess we did,” I said, “but it was definitely fun for a while, at least in the beginning.” I perked up my tone. “Anyway, we got two great kids out of the deal, and I'll always love you for that.” I offered her my hand, palm upward, as if she were truly a Duchess. “So, come on, Duchess; why don't we go upstairs and give the kids a kiss? Then I'll get going.” She smiled, then took my hand and off we went— out of the kitchen, through the dining room, through the grand marble entryway, and then up the sumptuous spiral staircase that led to the mansion's second floor.
When we reached the top of the stairs, I turned east, toward the kids’ rooms, and she turned west, toward the master bedroom. We were still holding hands, so we looked like two sailors leaning into opposing winds. I smiled playfully. “What are you doing?” I asked.
She just stared at me, with her lips compressed into a tight line, as if she were a child thinking about doing something naughty. Then she gave her head a tiny jerk in the direction of the bedroom. “Come inside with me,” she said mischievously.
My eyes popped opened like a pair of umbrellas. “What?You want to make love to me now,after I just told you I lost the houses?”
She nodded eagerly. “Yeah, it's the perfect time. I was never really in it for the money! It just seemed…” I narrowed my eyes suspiciously; she backtracked. “Okay, I won't deny that the money definitely helped, but I could have married a lot of rich guys. I chose you because you were cute.And you still arecute!” She winked. “So, come on! Let's do it one last time before we get divorced, okay?”
“You lead, I follow!” I said happily, and a second later the bedroom door was slamming behind us and we were jumping onto the fabulous white silk comforter, with its thousands of tiny pearls.
We began kissing deeply. Such wanton passion! Such sexual ferocity! Like never before!The Duchess smelled so good it seemed almost impossible. I wantedthis woman, to literally possessher, for all eternity.
“I love you,” I groaned.
“I'll always love you too,” she groaned back.
Bitch!I thought. “Me too,” I said lovingly, and we began wriggling out of our shirts, and— yes—the Duchess was braless! And I pushed my bare nipples against her bare nipples and my bare stomach against her bare stomach— and such softness I felt! Such heat!The Duchess was a raging inferno! Overcome by passion! Couldn't even think straight!
Suddenly she broke off our kiss and looked at me nervously. Through tiny pants, she muttered, “I hope”- pant, pant-“you don't think”- pant, pant—“you're sleeping over tonight.” Pant, pant.“I just can't”- pant, pant-“bear the thought”— pant, pant—”ofwaking up to you tomorrow morning!” Pant, pant.
Bitch!I thought. “Of course not.” Pant, pant.“I have a meeting in Southampton”- pant, pant—“first thing in the morning!” Pant, pant.
“Oh, good!” she muttered. “Make love to me”—pant, pant.
And off came our pants, and the Duchess's legs- perfection!So soft they were! So supple! Like never before! Those luscious thighs, those slender ankles, those heavenly hips!My nervous system was on sensory overload, and I loved it.
“Kiss me softly,” moaned the Duchess. “The way you used to…”
Yes, I thought, I would kiss her softly, just the way I used to, and then I would make love to her, just the way I used to, with myself on top and her luscious legs clamped together, for added friction. The Duchess loved it that way!
With great tenderness, I placed my hands on her cheeks and put my lips to her lips, and I kissed her softly, breathing in every last molecule of her. Her lips smelled utterly delicious, utterly frisky-justlike they used to!
So we just lay there, kissing, for what seemed like a very long time.
Finally I broke off our kiss and looked my gorgeous Duchess in her fabulous blue eyes and decided to give it one last college try. “I still love you,” I said softly, praying that she would return my words.
She nodded quickly. “I love you too,” she said. “Now make love to me, sweetie!”
She still loved me!
Then—a shock, as she said, “Wait a second: Let me turn around so we can do it from behind.” Faster than it seemed possible, the Duchess had wriggled out from beneath me and was crouching on her knees now, with her back to me. Then she crossed her arms over her breasts and arched her back, like a cat, pushing her butt out. She said urgently, “Hurry up and grab my arms and hug me from behind!”
Bitch!I thought. She had learned a new trick in my absence!Of all the insults! Who had taught her this… doggie-style cross-armed maneuver? Was it the ponytailed bastard? Or the sleazoid golf pro? Or even worse—the Romanian slime-bucket?
Just then she swung her blond head around and stared at me quizzically. “What are you waiting for?” Pant, pant.“Take me now or lose me forever!”
I stared back at her, speechless.
She smiled coyly. “Oh, come on, silly! You'll like it this way!”
Bitch!I thought. And then I smiled.
We ended up making passionate love that Thursday evening, and, in retrospect, I think we both knew it would be for the last time. Just why it had to happen I would never know, although I suspected it had something to do with closure, which both of us desperately needed. We had been to hell and back together, and now it was time to move on. In some way, I knew, we would always love each other.
BOOK III
CHAPTER 17
THE ART OF SELF-DESTRUCTION
Three Months Later
Then the wailing stopped. Kiley was sitting to my left, seat-belted to one of the Sikorsky's sumptuous tan leather seats, and she looked on the verge of tears. “I—I've never been in a helicopter before,” mumbled Kiley, wearing a $2,000 red silk minidress that I'd just purchased at a trendy clothing store in Southampton. “Is it supposed to make noises like that?”
“Yeah,” I said casually, “it happens all the time.” I had just met Kiley a few hours ago, so I hardly knew anything about her—other than that she was twenty-two years old, had been raised in Vancouver, British Columbia, and had come to New York to pursue a modeling career, only to have it cut short by an eating disorder, which caused her weight to balloon up and down thirty pounds in either direction. Today she was tipping the scales at a buck-thirty, which was a bit too fleshy for a five-foot-eight-inch model, so Kiley was having trouble finding work. Nevertheless, she was still gorgeous, with perfectly chiseled features, honey-colored skin, full lips, high cheekbones, and liquid brown eyes shaped like almonds.
All at once the helicopter began executing a sharp right turn and going into a steep dive. Kiley's slanted eyes popped open. “Oh, my God!” she screamed. “What's wrong now?Why are we going down?”