Jennifer opened the door to the bathroom. It was empty. Her towels were as she had left them the morning after the pit bull attack, crumpled on the floor.
“Is he there?” Kirk asked.
Jennifer shook her head, then reached over and turned on the lamp beside the bed.
“Are you okay, Jen?” Kirk asked, stepping into the room.
She nodded. “I think so. I feel him, that’s all.”
“Tom?”
“Yes.” She sat down in a chair and pulled off her boots. “It was so strong, I thought he was here.”
“Maybe he’s under the bed or something,” Kirk joked, pulling off his jacket.
Jennifer sat back in the wing chair. “Would you look?” she asked.
“Under the bed?”
“Yes.”
“Hey, Jen, quit kidding.”
“I’m serious.” She was smiling in spite of herself. “I get myself scared sometimes
Please, I know he isn’t, but I can’t look.”
Kirk grinned. “Sure!” He dropped to his knees and lifted the bed skirt, peeping underneath. “He’d have to be a goddamn midget.”
“Kirk
“
“Okay! Okay! No, he’s not there.” He stood up.
“I’m going to call his apartment again.” She reached over to her bedside phone and quickly dialed his number.
“How about a drink?”
“Good!” Jennifer said, smiling up at him as she listened to Tom’s phone ring. At the third ring, his machine clicked on, and she heard his message. He wasn’t home, but he’d call back as soon as possible. She waited for the beep, then left another message, asking him to telephone her. “It doesn’t matter when,” she said, “just call.”
Jennifer hung up and went back to the kitchen, where Kirk had found the liquor.
“Hold me,” she told him, and wrapped her arms around his waist, snuggling her face into his shoulder.
Kirk turned around and lifted her up, grabbed her bottom with both of his hands, and pressed her against him. She felt his erection at once.
“Let’s go to bed,” she said.
“No drink?”
“I want you, not a drink.”
He kissed her and began to unbutton her blouse.
“We’d better lock the door,” she told him, a little breathlessly..
When Kirk left her, Jennifer unzipped her jeans, pulled them off, and tossed them onto the back of a living room chair as she walked back into her bedroom. There she dipped her head to one side and took off first one earring, then the other, and set them both in a tray on her dresser. As she pulled her blouse up over her head, she thought she saw something move in the far corner of the room. With her blouse still tangled in her arms, Jennifer stepped to the wall and flipped on the light switch. There was nothing in the corner but a bookshelf, filled with her familiar night-time reading and a few framed photographs.
She could hear Kirk’s sneakers squeaking on the hall floor as he returned to the bedroom. Jennifer turned off the light, unsnapped her bra, and slipped into the bed.
“The barn door is bolted,” he announced, and paused at the doorway, surprised that Jennifer was already in bed.
“Come here,” she told him. She longed for the warmth of his body, ached to make love with him, and when he smiled lazily at her and unbuttoned his jeans, the sweetness of anticipation excited her more. She lifted her arms toward him, and he slipped into bed, under the down coverlet, and pulled her into his strong arms.
Jennifer felt safe, protected by his broad shoulders, and dizzy with longing as he moved to touch her. His mouth and hands were everywhere, and his eagerness made her more excited. She had never been with such an ardent lover.
In the darkened bedroom, Kirk’s face glowed with pleasure. Jennifer held his face close to hers and worked her tongue into his mouth. She wanted to consume him. She wanted him inside her. She wanted their flesh to be glued together. For a moment she was afraid that her passion would frighten him off.
With trembling hands, she reached down to guide him into her body. She liked leading the way, making her lover respond to her needs. Jennifer pushed Kirk back onto the pillows as she straddled him. He rose high and tight up inside of her, and she twisted her hips to create more friction.
She leaned down and licked his chest, then tossed her loose mane of blond hair across his face like a wide, soft brush.
“Do you like this?” she whispered, smiling down at him.
Kirk nodded, then reached up and pulled her down on top of him, probing her mouth with his tongue. Jennifer felt his erection swell as he came inside her. She let herself ride with him, waiting for her own orgasm, shifting slightly so that her right nipple was exposed, and she arched her back so that he could reach her swollen breast with his tongue. With a sudden shudder, she came, driving her body onto his. Her heart pumped wildly, driving her blood to the center of her body, where her muscles exploded in passion. She found that she had detached a part of her mind and was watching her body rock in its own selfish ecstasy.
Suddenly Jennifer grew teary. She turned her face into the pillows, then kissed Kirk tenderly in the hazy afterglow of her orgasm. She nestled closer to him, longing to stay this way forever, to hold him captive for her delight, and she shifted her legs so that his erection was pinned inside her.
Kirk was kissing her gently, nuzzling her ears, her closed eyes, the dampness on her throat. He was coming again; she marveled as his orgasm pulsed within her.
Jennifer wrapped her arms around him and kissed his hair. The only light in the room came from the street, filtered through the drawn curtains, but her eyes had adjusted to the dark and she could clearly see the shadowy figure emerge from the dark corner of the bedroom. It watched them, watched her, and then stepped over to the doorway and paused there. There was no hatred in the figure’s eyes, nor anger, only an immense sorrow, as if he had lost everything, lost her, lost his whole world.
“Jenny, what’s the matter?” Kirk asked, pulling back from her breasts. Her body had turned cold in his arms. “What’s the matter?” he asked again, frightened by the look on her face. He turned to see what she was staring at. But there was only the open doorway, a dim slanting light beyond.
“What is it?” he demanded, grasping her by the shoulders.
“He’s here,” she whispered, keeping her eyes on the doorway.
“Who? What are you talking about?”
“Tom is here.”
“Jesus Christ, Jenny, what are you saying?” Kirk sat up on his knees.
“I just saw him. He’s dead. He was here, watching us make love.”
“Hey,” Kirk said gently. “No one is here, Jenny; you’re driving yourself crazy.” He moved to the doorway and turned on the overhead light. “No one is here, I promise.” When he looked at his hands, he realized he was trembling. “Christ, Jenny, you frightened the hell out of me.”
“He was here. I saw him. His spirit was here,” Jennifer said calmly. She was no longer afraid.
“Look for yourself! We’re all alone,” Kirk insisted.
“You don’t understand,” Jennifer whispered, slipping out of bed. She knew he was frightened, but she had lost all of her fear.
“Jenny, come on! Where are you going?” He watched her as she got out of bed and moved toward her closet. He swallowed hard, watching her tall, slender body. “Let’s go back to bed,” he cajoled.
Jennifer pulled open the door to her walk-in closet and reached in to where she always hung her flannel nightgown. Before her mind could react, before she could scream out in horror, the tips of her fingers touched the soft film of his still-open eyes. She saw him fully then, saw that her kitchen knife had been plunged into his heart, saw his bloated, grayish tongue and his swollen white face, and saw that her dresses and blouses had been shoved aside. Tom was hanging from the metal bar by his own black belt, the one she had bought at Brooks Brothers and given to him for his thirty-sixth birthday. He had been dead for several days and he smelled of death.