Betrayed Ch. 10
Keywords: Ch., 10, Betrayed,
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*Chapter Ten: Everything That Has A Beginning...*
I would have loved to be waiting at the gate at O'Hare when Dianna de-planed from L.A. that Sunday night. I had to settle for the Baggage Claim Area. Those people working for the Transportation Security Administration have "no" sense of humor. I guess at eight dollars an hour, they can't afford one. Then again, the other passengers were treated to quite a show, right there in front of the carousel; the knock-out brunette and blonde hugging and kissing like something right out of a "Vivid "video.
It was going to be "our "place that night, not her studio in Lakeview; I wouldn't take "no" for an answer. She hesitated only a moment, then acquiesced willingly. My lover seemed genuinely relieved at the prospect. She was cuddled up next to me, her arm through mine, the entire trip down the Kennedy Expressway into town. We didn't utter a word, allowing the nearness of our bodies to speak volumes. I was having a hard time reconciling her reaction to me with the growing body of evidence suggesting she was setting me up for Jeff Spencer.
Dianna was tense, agitated. Whatever the cause, she did not want to talk about it. We were just exiting at Ohio Street when the cell phone rang. It wasn't my cell; either of them. The ring tone was some downloaded Hip-Hop clip. I glanced down at Dianna's purse. She stared out the windshield.
"Ignore it," she stated matter-of-factly.
"But," I began, "it might be..."
She spun her head to glare at me.
""Ignore it!"" she barked sharply. "I am. You have my undivided attention tonight. I will not share you with "anyone" – especially not Angelina Torres."
"BUS-TED!"
Well, not really. Dianna already knew Angie was my Personal Assistant. She also knew I had had sex with the lovely "Latina" that first night at Rob's condo because I had told her everything about that afternoon and evening. Since then - and the dust-up over my 'date' with Daniel - she hadn't pressed me about subsequent liaisons, just as I hadn't probed her about her business. It had been an unspoken agreement between Dianna and myself to spend our time together focused on each other, not externals. Given my conflicted feelings for the two women, I was thankful for that. Perhaps that dynamic had changed in Dianna's mind.
Once inside our door, the gorgeous shemale attacked me as though she hadn't had sex in a year. We didn't so much "have sex" as engage in a prolonged, frantic fuck, replete with bruised ribs, love bites, pinched, sore nipples, and stretched, aching holes. Afterward, we lay together, spooned, with me in her arms. We were both shivering; physically and emotionally spent. Dianna murmured into my ear.
"Would you tell me about you and Angie if I asked?"
I continued to stare straight ahead.
"Would "you" tell "me" about you and Jeff Spencer?" I responded, taking a shot in the dark.
Behind me, I felt her body momentarily tense.
"I deserved that," she replied. "Before I say anything else, I have to know; do you love me?
"Yes," I avowed, "without reservation."
"Do you believe in me?" she continued.
I was glad she phrased it that way. There is a fine line between 'believe in' and 'trust' – if only in my own mind. At that point, my answers to the two would probably have been different. Perhaps she sensed that before she worded her inquiry.
"Yes," I repeated.
"Then believe in "this"," she intoned with feeling. "In the three months we have been together, you have become my life, my reason for living. I have never told that to another human – "ever." I never thought I ever "would". My lifestyle doesn't lend itself to deep emotional attachments. I got lucky with you – "very "lucky.
"Do you remember what I told you in the beginning, at the restaurant? 'A week, a month, a lifetime; it makes no difference. When it's right, it's right; you just know it.' "We" are right. We belong together. I didn't know it that first time, when we met at the club. I have known since that fabulous Valentine's Day weekend, though. "Every day", I thank God for sending you to me."
"I can't get enough of you," I affirmed softly. "In the beginning, it was wonderful; just you and me, forget about anything and everyone else. Then, things started getting... "complicated." You were with me a lot after my surgery and I loved that. Now that I'm becoming more... well, more like you... "and" I wanted me to be, I feel like we are drifting apart. I hardly ever see you as it is. Then, you left for L.A...."
My lover kissed me softly on the nape of my neck.
"You haven't seen me because I have been trying to stay away from you," she explained. "It's not because I don't love you; it's because I "do.""
"That makes no sense, Dianna," I complained petulantly. "It's about you and Jeff Spencer, isn't it? Look, I know he's a lot bigger than me – in that way; probably a better lay, too...."
She grabbed my shoulder and pulled me over to face her.
"What did I just tell you?" she scolded. "You are "everything "I could have ever hoped for in a lover and life partner. If I had my way, you wouldn't be able to get rid of me. Things "have "gotten complicated and yes, it involves you and that freak. I don't even "want" to know how you know how big he is. I have a feeling the answer would make me sick.
"Let's clear the air about Mister Jeffrey "fucking "Spencer, shall we? Ignore that wonder rod of his for a moment. Have you noticed how big "the rest "of him is, how well developed? He has been on "steroids" since he started college; he admitted it to me. That is how he got to be such an All-American stud on the football field. "Off "the field, it was just the opposite. Oh yeah, he had a nice-sized dick and probably a pretty good set of balls – at one time. The steroids have been fucking with that. He needed the Little Blue Pill just to get it up.
"That all changed a few months before I met you. His white bread girlfriend – "your ex-wife" – convinced him to get a penile implant! Now, whenever he wants to have sex, all he has to do is pump himself up. I'm sure it feels just fine in your ex's pussy, but he goddamn "tears me apart" every time he fucks me."
"Then why do it?" I wailed. "Why not just kiss his ass good-bye, leave that place, that "life "if you have to, and come home to me?"
My lover just stared at the sheets for a moment, collecting her thoughts.
"That's the complicated part, Baby Doll," she stated solemnly. "I can't... I "don't want to" go into all of it right now. I know that isn't fair, but I'm trying to protect you. "Please" don't press me on it. I can tell you this much. The steroids have fucked with his head, too. You haven't seen him when he loses his temper; you don't want to."
""Dammit"", Dianna"!" I exclaimed. ""Stay away from him". If I even "suspect "that bastard is beating you, I swear I will...."
""STOP IT!"" she shrieked. "That is "exactly "why I didn't want to tell you anything. There is just enough 'man' left in you to do something really brave, and noble, and "stupid". He would pound you into the woodwork like a ten-penny nail, then go out for pizza and beer with the boys. I know what I'm doing, Baby. I'm a big girl now; I can take care of myself."
"You don't have to," I avowed. ""We" can take care of you. I'm in this too, remember? I would give it all up – the job, condo, clothes, car, "everything" - to keep you safe. I have more than we will ever need to live on. We can go anywhere; just walk away from all of it – together."
Dianna kissed me tenderly on the lips. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
"You would do it, too, wouldn't you?" she sobbed. "You really "do "know how to push all the right buttons. Just remember you said that."
Dianna and I showered and dressed together Monday morning. She insisted on taking a cab back to her place; she didn't want me anywhere near it. I reluctantly kissed her good-bye, then put her in the cab. After that, I went to work. I was an emotional wreck all week. Angie and I had done our final rehearsals with Paul. He told us Dianna had met with him separately. I was excited about – and dreaded – the upcoming weekend. I stayed away from trades completely; I didn't trust my instincts at all at that moment. I had called Dianna several times – and left messages on her voicemail. She hadn't called back. I spent most of Friday standing before my window, arms folded under my chest, staring down at La Salle Street.
I didn't even hear Angie come up behind me around four o'clock. She slipped her arms around me from behind and hugged me to her. I was grateful for the human contact and backed myself closer to her.
"You are wasting your time here, "Mija"," she purred soothingly. "You are a thousand miles away right now. Rob, Jim and Shirley are already gone. Most of the staff is chomping at the bit, ready to bolt for the holiday weekend. What do you say we blow this pop stand early, too? We'll go over to North Pier, have greasy ribs and Hurricanes at "Dick's Last Resort", lick each other's fingers clean, throw napkins up into the ceiling fan and insult the other guests like the wait staff does. We can watch the boats dock, pick the one we like most, accost the owner, and convince him how much cooler he will look cruising the lake this summer with us laying on his deck, sunning ourselves in our skimpiest thong bikinis. Then we can go back across the street to your place and fuck our brains out. Does that sound like a plan?"
Damn it, it "did"; all of it"." God knew, I needed something to break the tension I had been feeling the last five days. Getting drunk and disorderly on Hurricanes at "Dick's" would certainly fill the bill. We could even add to our growing collection of tulip glasses in the kitchen cupboard – if we didn't drop them, staggering across the street to my building. The thought of having sex with her wasn't exactly a turn-off, either. Damn "me" for thinking that! I had been in bed with Dianna five nights before, telling her I loved her. Now, I wanted to take Angie home and rock her world – and let her rock mine.
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Keywords: Ch., 10, Betrayed,