The Perfect Holiday

“I do.” She reached out and took the card from my hand, then reached around to tuck it into my back pocket. She was close to me now, her lips just a few inches from my ear, her perfume lingering in my nose. “And maybe we could catch up, I mean, if you’d like to.” She traced a fingernail down the center line of my chest and softened her eyes at me. “We never really got to finish what we started. Maybe this time, we will.”

* * *

I got away from Juju as quickly as I could. I regretted bumping into her. It was good that she was a realtor and could help me sell the place. It was not good that every time she looked at me she licked her lips like a hyena about to devour a baby goat and batted her fake lashes like she was spelling out “fuck me” in Morse code. I co

uld tell what she was thinking by the sexy lilt of her voice and the way she let her eyes go dreamy when she looked at me. She was a hot piece of ass and in another time or place I might have been interested, but honestly, all I could think about at that moment was what Annabel would say if she saw me talking to Juju. I thanked her without returning the hug she offered and said I’d see her on Saturday.

* * *

I got back to the house around six. I quickly put the groceries away and jumped in the shower, knowing Annabel would be there by seven-thirty or so and I still had to order the pizza. I didn’t realize until I was in the shower with the water running that I hadn’t even thought about bringing or buying soap or shampoo. Fortunately, my mother still had a bottle of generic shampoo that was a few months from expiration (does shampoo expire, really?) and a half worn-down bar of Irish Spring in the holder. My mother always smelled of Irish Spring and cheap shampoo.

It took less than a minute to wash my short hair, then I used the lather from the shampoo to wash my body. I couldn’t help but think about Annabel as I soaped up my cock and balls and taint. Her face, her eyes, her lips… My cock got hard in my hand and within a minute I was coating the shower wall with my cum. It was like having déjà vu. I had shot my load on that shower wall dozens of times as a horny teen. I rinsed off my body and took down the shower handle to clean the wall, then turned the water off and reached for a towel.

The house was neat as a pin and the old air conditioner finally had the place cool enough that we wouldn’t sweat to death, although sweating with Annabel was one of my favorite past times. I poured myself a tall glass of Mountain Dew and sat at the kitchen table to call Dominos. One large thin crust meat lovers with extra cheese, please. I hung up the phone and sat back to catch my breath.

I glanced at the old Tom the Cat clock hanging on the kitchen wall, his crooked tail methodically clicking back and forth in sync with the second hand. It was a quarter to seven. Annabel would be here within the hour. The thought of seeing her again made my heart speed up with anticipation.

She’ll be here soon…

And just what the hell did I plan to say to her?

Should I start with an apology for something that happened a decade ago and beg for forgiveness?

Or should I keep my mouth closed and let her do the talking, hoping that the topic of Juju and our betrayal never comes up? Was Annabel the type to leave the past in the past? To let go of old anger and embrace new possibilities? Of course not, but neither was I, so I knew I had better brace myself just in case our reunion got off on the wrong foot.

Whatever it took, no matter how large the apology or how much crow eating was required, I would have Annabel in my arms and on my cock before the night was through.

If not in reality, then in my dreams.

CHAPTER 13: Annabel

Sitting there across the table from one another in his mother’s kitchen, ravenously devouring the pizza and gulping down large glasses of Mountain Dew and Coke between bursts of laughter, it was like we had never been apart. It was as if Shane had not cheated on me with Juju. Like he had never gotten in the car with Kenny the night of the horrible accident. Like he had never confronted his father with such tragic results. Like he had never gone away. Like we had never spent a day or a night apart. Like I was still in love with him madly. That’s what it felt like in that moment. Sadly, I knew all moments pass and this one would, too.

Biscuit the Maltese was sitting patiently on the floor now, waiting to clean up whatever crumbs we might drop. The little dog was around ten-years-old, but still acted like a puppy, standing on its hind legs, dancing in circles hoping she’d be rewarded with food. Shane couldn’t resist pulling cheese off the pizza and feeding little bites to her.

“You should not feed a dog people food,” I said, scolding him with my eyes. He just smiled and kept offering Biscuit bites of cheese.

“Is this people food? Really?” he asked, giving me a sideways grin.

“It’s what passes as people food when you’re starving,” I said. I let my eyes drift around the kitchen. It was neat, almost like no one had lived there for a very long time. “So, you’re going to sell the place?”

Shane wiped the grease from his fingertips and picked up his drink. “I have no use for it,” he said, looking around. “You want it?”

“Why would I want it?” I asked.

“Your receptionist told me you lived above your practice,” he said with a shrug. “This place ain’t much, but it has to be better than that.”

“My receptionist should keep her mouth shut,” I said, eyebrows arching at the thought of Wendy sharing my business with Shane, who for all she knew, was a psycho serial killer.

“Don’t be mad at her,” he said. “I told her we were old friends.”

“Did you now.”

“I did.”

“Is that what we are, Shane? Old friends.”

The smile slowly faded from his lips and his eyes went narrow. “Well, I like to think so.”