Well, that was that. The end of six months of what might, and could have been, a lifetime together. Shit, he loved her. He'd be a damned fool to try and deny that to himself, but it could hardly make a difference any more. Love, grown-up style, was something more than a session of childhood necking and trotting after aspirin for convenient migraines. Fuck it! He wasn't sorry for what he'd done to her… the way he'd forced her to shove her gorgeous ass up in the air for him to batter into at will! If any hung-up girl ever had it coming, she did. He just wished to Christ he could forget it, instead of sitting there with a half-hard on wishing he was kneeling up behind her for another go at it.
Kevin swept up his glass and consumed three-quarters of its contents, then looked around the small, plush room to see that he was its only customer. The fat, bald man behind the bar in the white jacket and bow-tie continued to polish glasses as he watched a basketball game on color TV. The urge to interrupt him by ordering, Kevin by-passed when the plastic novelty bird bobbing up and down on the rim of a glass as if it were drinking water had suddenly become two which he was finding difficulty in focusing back to what he knew was singular.
Instead, he engineered his mind toward new thoughts… and abruptly, Eve Novack's sensual charms loomed inside his head, causing his half-swollen cock to give a new, rousing lurch. Damn, she'd even suggested at first that he come over tonight! "… For sketches maybe, darling…?"
"I'd rather have daylight… but if you insist, I suppose…"
"No, no! Of course, I understand, Kevin. I guess I wasn't thinking that you artists prefer everything natural…"
"Well… it's better usually, but not essential if you have sufficient lighting, Miss Novack…"
"Whichever you prefer, darling. I'll be at home. And if it's tomorrow and I'm still in bed, you just walk right in and pinch me right on the 'you know what'."
And Christ, what a "you know what" she had! Man, how he'd love to slap that pair of ass-cheeks, but better yet, just hold and caress them! She was a wild one the columnists and movie-rage insisted, using her sexy cheese-cakes and numerous male companions shots at the rate of a half-dozen times a year. She was no longer beach party teenage stuff, but she was one hell of a long ways from being classed outmoded! In fact, for his buck, Eve Novack was right at her voluptuous peak. She had to be around thirty, just enough older than he to make it wild-fire! Shit, he was flipping…!
"Another drink, sir?" the bald, bow-tie grinned.
"No… no, I-I have an appointment," the young husband answered, slipping off the stool while the other glanced at his watch.
"What time is it, Harry?"
"Ten forty-five, sir…"
"I'm late. Good night, old man!"
"Good night, Mr. Garrett…"
"Who is it?" Eve questioned through her end of the intercom.
"Kevin Garrett."
"Oooohhh…? I-I didn't really expect you tonight, Kevin…"
"Would you rather I leave…?"
"No, no… of course not! Don't be ridiculous!" Eve said, the tiny sensations immediately rising up inside her too well established to be denied. "I'll be right there, darling…"
Quickly, she checked herself in the mirror of the vanity, flouncing her short-cropped, bouncy hair while her knowing eyes swept down over the peek-a-boo negligee she was wearing, tiny thrills of excitement beginning to churn responsively within her. She was hardly aware of Stranger at her side as she walked toward the front door, erotic designs already beginning to form in her seductive mind. It was so late for his type! Something was in the wind and the thought struck her that she might very much like it. He did have sensitive hands…
"I know this is a hell of a time to call, but we temperamental artists…" he started when she had opened the door, and then, his discerning gray eyes had swept up over her in one long engulfing glance, the light behind her doing extraordinary things for them, Eve knew.
"Not at all!" she smilingly exclaimed, stepping back to temporarily obscure his illuminated view. "Come in, Kevin! I'm glad you came. I was just sitting around doing nothing, trying to decide if I could sleep if I went to bed."
Jesus Christ, she was naked beneath that negligee! And what a body! B-But coming to the door that way…? "I-I thought we might catch a few fast sketches," he managed, moving into the room with his small case, trying to keep his eyes off her but unable to.
"I'm so glad you did, darling! Can we do it in here, or would you rather look around for a better place?" she lightly tossed at him.
He saw the German shepherd then for the first time, a massive animal brushing tightly against her thigh. "That… that's a beautiful dog," he heard himself say, relieved to have something else to look at besides the provocative enticement of her nakedly revealed curves beneath the sheer negligee.
"Oh, this is Stranger, my soul-mate and protector," she said, stroking her hand lovingly over his huge head. For a moment she petted the great animal while they both indulged their eyes in silence as if letting their brains work. Then: "And now, what can I fix you to drink, Kevin?"
"S-Scotch… Scotch and water will be fine."
"Come on with me," she invited, smiling, "back to my private little den of iniquity," and she caught his hand to lead the way with Stranger never leaving her side.
Kevin had seen enough of Big Sur's exclusive homes to recognize her bedroom suite. It was luxurious, like the house, and far superior to his own. The rooms were not only grandly furnished, but spacious, and the bed he supposed she slept in could have easily accommodated a dozen people. Then, he couldn't help but wonder if maybe sometime it hadn't…?
"Can we work in here, darling?" she tossed at him, walking out onto the small, open verandah where he saw the liquor cart.
"Why not? I-I just want to get a couple of rough profiles tonight…"
"Scotch, darling," she said, re-entering the room and walking toward him with the offered glass extended, wild little fire-thoughts of excitement beginning to hotly lick at her loins. "You lie down, Stranger… lie down! That's right… just lay right there and be a good, quiet dog."
"He minds well," Kevin managed, taking the drink she offered him. "Have you had him long?"
"Not too… but long enough, I think," Eve illusively answered, sipping at her own vodka-tonic and studying the perceptive eyes of the intriguing young man before her. "Your wife… does she know you were coming here, Kevin…?"
He couldn't help but stare at her. She was a Goddamned shrewd one, all right! But even that hardly mattered; they were actually doing little more than sparring, both hesitant to make the first open move… or was she?
"As a matter of fact, she doesn't," Kevin answered, letting his liquored eyes rake brazenly over the provocativeness of her veiled curves, finally riveting on the twin lush mounds of her full breasts with their tiny hardened nipples visibly ornamenting the filmy black chiffon. He swallowed tightly then gulped from his glass.
"And you've been drinking… quite heavily too, I'd say," Eve observantly judged. "Could… could something be amiss at home, Kevin darling?"
He sensed his brow furrowing. "What the devil is this, a third degree?" he irritably snapped as she began to smile with all the knowledge of the ages in her torrid eyes. "Look, if you don't want to bother with the sketches tonight say so…" She was gliding toward him… like a Goddamned apparition… that gorgeous, nearly naked body sensuously rippling with every tiny step, her tongue-moistened lips parted and glistening…!
"Shall we dispense with the nonsense, darling… and get down to love-making?" she seductively whispered, her resilient warmth yieldingly closing in on him, her arms slipping upward around his neck as she pressed her soft voluptuous body hotly against the hardened conformity of his own. "Time is always so precious… and we may need a great deal of it…"