THIS IS MY LIFE
At six p.m. sharp, my doorbell rang. I answered it, but I didn't want too. He
looked different in jeans, more luscious. If that was possible. His hair hung
free to his shoulders in shaggy waves. The exact same shade as his sweater.
Dark chocolate. Nice.
"Come here." He ordered as he came into the room. I looked up at him boldly.
This was my place. My world. Not theirs. I didn't even care that I would
probably pay for this little act of rebellion this weekend. I still did it.
"Why are you here, Adam?" He was surprised at my tone, but he hid it well. His
eyes smiling down into mine.
"Because Jon said that I could take you out to dinner." I relaxed a bit. "He
also said that we could do what we wanted to do." We, not just him. I eased
up.
"This is my world. Nobody ever told me that I would have to share beyond the
weekend." I sounded angry and a little bit petulant. Not a good combination.
He went over to my kitchen and sat in one of my chairs.
"You're angry at me."
"Like to beat the hell out of you." I said frostily. He grinned broadly.
"I will, of course, place myself at your tender mercies." His voice lowered
seductively and he looked up at me through his lashes. I couldn't help it. I
laughed. "Not mad, anymore?"
"No." I sat down across from him. "Dinner, Huh?" He nodded, leaning back in
the chair. "Okay. I'll pick the place and welcome to my world." I went to
change from my work clothes into jeans.
It was a good night. Not to cold. A full heavy moon in a clear nighttime sky.
Werewolf weather. My kind of weather. I took him to the Oyster Bar in the
district. It was a nice place, cozy. The fact that I ate there almost every
week, made it home territory. The owner knew me. A Creole from New Orleans,
black as night, named Alain. Dinner was as usual, fabulous. Conversation,
stilted until Adam asked.
"You don't really like men much, do you?" He appeared really interested in the
answer, looking at me with the same intensity with which he studied me during a
scene.
"They're good for some things." I quipped back and realized that sex was not
what he meant. "I wish that all men could be female for just one day. See what
it's like."
"What is it like?" He seemed genuinely interested so I told him.
"It's a waking paradox." He didn't get that at all, so I explained. "If I get
angry, I'm PMS. If I'm assertive, I'm a bitch. If I'm nice, I'm weak. That's
the paradox." He was smiling, now he understood. "Now, you get it. If you're
assertive, you have leadership potential. Angry, someone pissed you off. Gee,
what a nice guy you are. It's not just work either." Adam had snagged the
check when it came, before I could even put out my hand for it. Automatically.
I leaned back in the chair and finished my wine. "I was top of my class, Mensa
in High school. I was hired a level below a man with no degree and less sense.
I married a man who beat me because he could do it. I was physically weaker
than he was. So he took advantage of that."
"How long did you stay?"
"About eight months."
"I'm sorry." He said and I asked him why he was sorry. "Because emotional scars
are the hardest to heal." True enough. "If you could do whatever you wanted to
him, to cleanse his memory, what would you do?" My eyes hardened as they met
his. A pure gleam of sadism lighting their depths and darkening them.
"Top him." He chuckled at that. "But that would make me as bad as he was." I
sighed. "Maybe I'll just stay the way I am for awhile."
"Happy?" He said, smiling.
"Satisfied with my life. Nice balance between the weekends and work. It's been
a long time since I've opened my self to any kind of new experience."
"Well, honey. You've gone all out this time." I laughed out loud. "There's a
nice leather store in this town. Feel like shopping?" I narrowed my eyes at
him.
"Shopping for what?" He laid some bills on the check and grinned up at me.
"Jon told me to take you shopping. His money and get you some costumes." His
teeth peeked out at me and he cocked his head. "It'll be fun. Jon's money."
Baiting me.
"Ahh, the way to a woman's heart." I shot back at him, but we did leave the
restaurant and we did go shopping.
"So you answered an ad in the Times?" He asked me with a laugh. Although why
that little tidbit cracked him up. I'll never know. "And you were gone for the
weekend, so they had nothing better to do but me." He whistled in appreciation.
"That took a lot of guts."
"Not guts, Terror." He waited for me to continue. "I felt like if I didn't do
something... I was going to explode. I'd spent six years with just myself. All
I could think about was sex. I fantasized about every man I came in contact
with. It was driving me crazy. I was at a point in my life where I was truly
dangerous to myself." He nodded as though he understood.
"I got that way after my divorce." He remarked absently looking into the store
windows at the avante garde goods displayed in the windows. "I lucked into Jon
and Traci."
"How did you meet them?" I inquired, very curious now. He told me.
