Fortuitous Desire

I could smoke. I could take out my pack of cigs and smoke them like they were candy. I could. I really could. The stress of the evening was too powerful for me not to, although I had promised I would stop smoking. ‘Why stop now? Why ever stop?’ I reckoned.1

Jerry paced the terrace of his suite, hands clamped behind him, fuming. Only moments before, he had confessed his undying devotion. I had refused him. After all, he was engaged to Emma, my sister. If I took her man, would she forgive me? She wouldn’t even forgive me for something I accidentally broke when we were kids, much less something this major.2

I had to smoke. I had to smoke now, calm myself before I did something I would regret. As I sat at the table, watching him pace, the moon above reminded me of a white ashtray. I couldn’t look at it. My leg started shaking. I glanced at my purse, sitting on the table like an ominous box…Pandora’s box. If I released the evil inside, what would happen? Would I succumb once again to my two-carton casket? My father had died of cancer; my grandfather had died of cancer; I could die of cancer. I really didn’t want that.3

Still, the thirst for a smoke was far better than the thirst for his skin on mine, the wisp of his hair on my skin as he trailed down my body, exploring me, conquering my every desire with his mouth…with his hands. He was a piano player. He had long, fine fingers that could stroke me in ways no one else could.4

Unaware, I released a heavy sigh. I turned to see that he’d stopped and was staring at me, a look on his face that I couldn’t discern. Before long, he started walking towards me in an elongated stride. I stood up and began shuffling through my purse by the light of the moon, trying to find the cigarettes I had kept merely as a memento of days already gone.5

He pressed me against the stone banister, his eyes locked on mine. ‘If you want something that’s bad for your health, you should have said so. I can be very…very…bad.’6

I attempted to shove him away, but he came closer. I could feel his warm breath on my face, and I waited for him to press his lips to mine. My legs almost gave way and I held onto the banister for support as he ravaged my mouth with his, almost as if he were attempting to bruise my lips. I had never felt so alive!7

‘Stop it.’ I moaned.8

My neck suffered another attack as he trailed down to it, but he wasn’t there for long. He returned to my mouth, bombarding it until I couldn’t feel anything. At last, he let me go; I stood there, trying to catch my breath.9

‘There! I’ve stopped. Good riddance!’ he exclaimed and stormed inside, sliding the glass door shut.10

I attempted to find my cigarettes once more. Finding them, I put one in my mouth and started to look for a lighter…a match…hell, even a damned torch would do! My hands were shaking. I couldn’t make them stop…not without lighting up.11

‘Damn!’12

At last, I surrendered. I turned around and threw my cigarette over the balcony. I watched it flutter in the wind, falling towards the dark abyss that stretched out across the pavement. I threw my pack in anguish.13

I turned around and saw that the lights inside were on. The light was warm, welcoming, unlike the flame of a cigarette. I touched my lips absently, still feeling the heat of his passion.14

Freezing, I knew I couldn’t stay out here forever. I had to get back to my own hotel, which was considerably cheaper than this one and infected by rats and roaches. I had cleaned it constantly all weekend, but that had only seemed to draw more of them. I was at a loss.15

I walked into the suite and Jerry saw me as he was passing from one room to the next, no doubt releasing the pressure that had built up from what had happened. He paused for a moment, observing me, then walked on.