Torquere Press Sips and Shots Page 15

  The throbbing between her legs unsettled Joanna. Why was she reacting this way? After all, she wasn’t happy with Courtney anymore. She knew she needed to end the relationship, to reclaim her sanity. As Courtney slid her fingers under her sleep shirt and began tickling her back, Joanna desperately tried to remember a time when Courtney’s touch didn’t arouse her. Just one time when she’d pushed her hand away in indifference; one time that would prove there was nothing left between them.

  As Courtney backed her toward the bed, Joanna kissed her roughly, bit her luscious bottom lip, gripped handfuls of her silky hair, furious she came into Joanna’s room and was doing this.

  Joanna stopped her before they fell to the bed. “Court, you gotta leave,” she whispered. Her lips skimmed the baby fine hairs on Courtney’s cheek.

  “I will,” she said, rolling her tongue behind Joanna’s ear. “Right after we make each other come. We both need it.” Courtney shoved Joanna down on the bed and slithered on top of her with an urgency and aggression that sent Joanna’s pulse racing.

  She tried to stop Courtney’s hand as it inched up the inside of her thigh, but Courtney clutched her wrists, threw them down over her head and tongued the spot on her neck that always made her squirm. Joanna considered protesting as Courtney pulled her sleep shirt up and panties down, and then sat up and stripped herself naked. But when Courtney pressed her hot skin into Joanna’s and began grinding against her wetness, Joanna stopped kidding herself.

  She skimmed her hand between Courtney’s legs and glided her fingers over her silkiness.

  “I wanna fuck you, Joanna,” Courtney groaned as she thrust herself into Joanna’s hand.

  Joanna wrapped her legs around one of Courtney’s thighs and they began grinding together slowly, sensually. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the pleasure of Courtney’s body on hers, her soft upper thigh rubbing her aching clit. Courtney held her tightly as she thrust harder and faster against her.

  Joanna clawed Courtney’s back and gasped for air as the climax started in her toes and surged through her entire body. She felt Courtney coming, too, as they held each other and rocked in rhythm until they shrieked with explosive pleasure.

  They kissed again and gazed into each other’s eyes, searching for words that didn’t exist. What was left but to fall asleep in each other’s arms?

  * * *

  The orgasm had been more intense than Joanna had ever remembered experiencing, so intense the thought of it was making her horny again. No, she had to get Courtney out of there before Nancy came knocking.

  “Court,” she whispered, gently shaking Courtney’s shoulder. “You have to wake up now. I have to meet my sister and the kids in an hour.”

  Startled, Courtney sprang up. “Huh?”

  Wrapped in a robe, Joanna was antsy to hop in the shower. She ignored the flutter of her heart at the sight of Courtney, all adorable and sleepy and sheet wrinkled. “I’m sorry to shove you out like this, but you really need to go. Who wants to listen to Nancy over eggs Benedict?”

  “So then, I guess I’ll have to just wait for you to show up outside Tango again,” Courtney snapped. She pulled her clothes on, still looking groggy.

  Joanna sighed. A knock-down, drag-out was all she needed right now.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not stupid enough to think last night meant anything,” Courtney added. “Of course, if I do happen to catch you darkening Tango’s doorstep again, I might have to start thinking otherwise… isn’t that right, Miss Being with You Feels Toxic?”

  There was the Courtney she knew. Vindictive, childish, sarcastic. Joanna clenched her fists to keep from wrapping them around Courtney’s neck and throttling her as she whisked by her and out the door.

  Joanna let the hot shower stream bead down on her face, hoping the colored dots on the inside of her eyelids would blot out the images of last night and their last fight, which Courtney was kind enough to resurrect with her toxic comment moments earlier.

  That night in late December, the tension had boiled over in their bedroom as they rolled down the comforter and tossed the pillow shams on the built-in window seat.

  “Jo, I just don’t get why it keeps coming down to the bar,” Courtney said, rolling her eyes in frustration. “You knew I ran nightclubs right from the day we met. It’s why I used your catering service.”

  “I don’t need a refresher course on four-year-old history, Court,” Joanna said. “And you know damn well why this keeps coming up. It’s the lifestyle that goes along with running the bars. You said three years ago when we moved in you were going to scale back your involvement. You didn’t want to drive from Westport to the Village every weekend and since the clubs were doing a steady business, you were thinking about hiring managers to handle the day-to-day details.”

  Courtney sat on the edge of the bed, silent.

  “Isn’t that what you said?” Joanna pressed.

  “I’ve already told you I’m not ready to hand over the reins yet. Dawn is a little too much of a silent partner for me to back out totally.”

  “I never said back out totally. You’re at Tango at least three weekends a month and when you’re not, you’re jetting off to South Beach. I’m tired of being alone all the time.”

  “You know you can come with me whenever you want. I love having you with me.”

  “My catering business is me and two other people. I can’t drop everything and cling to your arm while you schmooze it up and down the eastern seaboard. Honestly, sometimes I feel like I’m dating a teenager the way you always have to be right in thick of every party.”

  Courtney clenched her teeth. Age digs cut twice as deep, and Joanna knew it. “Okay, now we’re getting at the truth. It isn’t that I run nightclubs, is it? It’s that you think I’m too immature for you and those snobby Greenwich friends of yours. It all makes sense why you hardly ever bring me when you hang out with them. I obviously embarrass you.”

  “Courtney, come on. You’re drifting way out to sea here. I’m home more than I’m anywhere else. Besides, I earn my livelihood on the Greenwich party circuit, I don’t live it. I’m long past my nightclub days, and I want a partner who is too; I don’t care what age she is.”

  Courtney shot up from the bed. “You have one hell of a nerve calling me immature, Joanna, when this is such petty shit. You’re grasping.”

  “I don’t need to justify how I feel, Courtney. And you shouldn’t expect me to.”

  “What is so goddamn bad about Tango? Some people might be impressed by the fact I’m thirty-one and own two thriving nightclubs.”

  “I don’t mean to downplay your accomplishment, but I’ve had my fill with Tango and those women throwing themselves at you knowing I’m standing ten feet away or at least somewhere in the vicinity. It’s demeaning to me. That whole scene is shallow and frankly, sometimes so is the way you respond to it.”

  Joanna could see she’d dug even deeper this time.

  “Is that what you think of me?” Courtney walked over to the window, shaking her head.

  “Courtney, you love the attention; it’s clear that you do. But I don’t particularly feel like sitting around at home while you’re out test-driving newer models.”

  “Newer models? What are you saying, I’m out cheating on you? That’s total bullshit, and I can’t believe that’s what you’re thinking when we’re not together.”

  “It’s not bullshit. It’s a very legitimate concern given your vocation. Look, this just isn’t working for me anymore.”

  “Fuck you, Joanna, just fuck you.” Courtney was about to bolt from the bedroom.

  “Court, wait.” Joanna tugged her arm. “Can we talk about this for once without you storming out and telling me to fuck myself?”

  “You don’t get it, do you? I love you. I don’t want anyone else, not at Tango, not in South Beach. I just want you.”

  Joanna leaned against the doorframe trying to manage the brain-numbing conflation of emotions. “What about the restaurant? Were y
ou even remotely serious any of those times we talked about it?”

  “Of course I was. You think I was just blowing smoke up your ass?”

  Joanna’s shrug probably hurt more than an insult. “For the record,” Courtney said, “I think it’s a great idea, but I’m just not ready to go there yet.”

  Joanna scoffed. “That’s the whole problem with this relationship, Courtney. How long do I have to wait for you to meet me halfway? I feel like I’m suffocating. I need to move on with my life. I need to be with someone who shares my values, who wants to be part of my dreams, who doesn’t expect me to just follow her around while she chases hers. I feel like I’m losing who I am in this. I’m sorry, but being with you has started to feel toxic, and I just need to get out.”

  Courtney stood at the foot of the bed and stared for a moment as if she didn’t even recognize Joanna. “All right, I’ll sell the goddamn clubs. Is that what you want?” she screamed. “I’ll sell out to Dawn and do any fucking thing you want, Joanna. Is that what it’ll take to make you happy? ‘Cause I’ll do it, I’ll do it because that’s how much I love you.” Courtney swept a picture frame from the dresser and whipped it at the wall, leaving a large gash in the paint through to the sheetrock.

  Joanna recoiled at the crash and the crazed look on Courtney’s face. “I’m going to my sister’s.”

  Her tears mixed with the shampoo and hot water pouring down her face. She hated their fiery battles as much as she loved their fiery love-making. How could someone who made her body feel so good make her heart feel so miserable? She despised making Courtney cry as much as she did when Courtney reciprocated. Thank God those days were over. As surreal as it had been without her since she’d moved out, things were finally calm again. She could gather her thoughts, clear her head and get on with it. Making love with Courtney last night was a major misstep, and as she turned off the faucet and hugged the plush hotel towel, she realized even a small dose of that drug could lead her right back into the rage of addiction.

  Part Two

  Joanna sat at the granite breakfast counter in a swivel chair and pressed a thumb into a ball of pasta dough Nancy placed in front of her. She gazed into the sunken family room at Nancy’s husband, Sam, asleep in front of the television as the Uconn men battled to survive the Sweet Sixteen.

  “Does Sam have a gut?” she asked in whisper.

  Nancy nodded. “Holiday glut. He gained twelve pounds this season, and if you noticed, that elliptical machine I bought him for Christmas hasn’t been touched.”

  “I envy you,” Joanna said as she absently rolled a fork over a gnocchi ball.

  “Are you being sarcastic?”

  “Not at all. I mean look at everything you have. I’m at the stage in life when I hoped I’d have this, too. Stability, comfort, napping in front of the TV on a Sunday afternoon.”

  “You know what envy is?” Nancy countered. “You and Courtney in the hot tub at that Stowe ski lodge last year. That’s envy. I swear if I had to hear one more of your steamy sex stories, I was going to beat you over the head with a blunt instrument.”

  Joanna laughed. “Seems like when it comes to the perfect relationship, you and I split the difference.”

  A cough echoed from the family room. “Need any help, babe?” Sam asked, still half asleep.

  “We got it under control, darling,” Nancy called back, smiling at Joanna. “You can parade a dozen sexy, shirtless firemen in front of me, and I’ll always choose Sam,” she said lovingly. “Well, ninety percent of the time.”

  They shared a conspiratorial laugh.

  “Considering the proximity of that rolling pin to your hand and my cranium, I probably shouldn’t tell you what happened the night we saw ‘The Lion King’.” Joanna wiped flour off her fingers and braced for the reaction.

  Nancy glared at her. “You didn’t. You slept with Courtney?” she accused in hardly a discreet whisper.

  Joanna rolled her eyes. “How do you know these things all the time?”

  “Because you’re so damn predictable. Does this mean you’re back together?”

  “No. No, we both realized it was a mistake the next morning and that’s that.”

  “That was over two weeks ago, and you’re just telling me now?”

  “Needless to say, I’m somewhat chagrined about it, and I hate it when you give me that I can’t believe you did something so stupid look when I’m already painfully aware of it.”

  Nancy wiped her hands on a checkered dish towel and pulled out the chair next to Joanna. “I’m not looking at you that way, hon. If you want to know the truth, I’m not at all convinced this breakup’s gonna stick.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Jo, you’ve been here something like two months. Have you decided what to do about the house? Have you even started looking for a place? No. You stay at work ‘til all hours and, when you aren’t working, you mope around here and follow me like the cats when I open a can of tuna.”

  “Are you saying you want me to leave? Does Sam want me out?”

  “You can stay as long as you want. We have plenty of room. But hanging around here isn’t you, dear sister. You’re a woman of action who loves her own space, which makes me think you don’t really want to move on without Courtney.”

  “Well, thank you, Dr. Bombay, for that intriguing analysis, but you’re reading way too much into this. Yes, I may still be in the mourning phase, but I’m surprisingly comfortable being without her. In fact, I feel quite pneumatic, like an enormous emotional burden’s been lifted.”

  “If you’re so comfortable without her, why are you two still having sex?”

  “We’re not having sex,” Joanna shouted.

  “Who aren’t you having sex with?” Sam called out from his recliner.

  “Go back to sleep,” Joanna snapped, and then returned to Nancy. “I’m not getting back together with her. It was… closure, that’s all.”

  Nancy smirked at the rationale. “Look, I know the reasons why you left, and I understand you feeling that way, but trying to talk yourself out of loving her because it’s more convenient or less complicated isn’t gonna work. You’re still mad about her. I can see it all over you.”

  Joanna leaned back in the chair and shot Nancy a defiant look. “Okay, let’s suppose for a second you’re right. Big deal. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter if I’m still in love with her right now. What matters is that in time I will get over her.”

  Nancy didn’t look up as she sprinkled the gnocchi with flour. “Sure about that? Because I remember when you and Martha split.” She shifted her weight and looked Joanna in the eye. “Now that was a burden lifted. Yeah, you were down for a while, but there was always forward motion. And that was ten years together. But this girl? Her essence is completely imbedded in you. You’re not ready to let her go.”

  Joanna felt her face get hot. “You know what I think? I think I’ve had enough of your domestic bliss for today,” she snarled. “I’m going upstairs to read.” She wasn’t sure what pissed her off more, Nancy’s presumption that she knew Joanna so well or the possibility that she might be right.

  * * *

  Another week and Courtney was still waiting for the pain to subside, to feel something that resembled her former self. Joanna had been gone for almost three months and getting back on track was a more daunting task than any business venture she’d pursued. She sat at her desk in their home office, preparing tax paperwork for both clubs. She clicked the print icon and gazed out the window at the grayness. She thought about taking a jog through Cranbury Park, but she knew she couldn’t outrun the shadow of Joanna that would trail her. Was she the only one in Westport whose life had imploded when a lover changed the rules halfway through the game? She picked up the phone and dialed Joanna’s cell as the printer hummed. This time she didn’t hang up.

  “Hello, you’ve reached Joanna Hilliard Catering. Please leave a message and I’ll get back to you soon. Thanks.”

&nb
sp; Now she hung up. Joanna had a lot of nerve sounding so normal. Although Courtney knew Joanna had recorded that greeting months before, she couldn’t help resenting her for getting on with her life.

  As the last document landed in the printer tray, Courtney heard the doorbell ring. She’s back, slammed into her brain. She stumbled off the leather office chair, flew down the staircase, and flung open the front door.

  “Jade.”

  “Hey, baby. We’re getting worried about you at Tango.”

  “How did you find out where I live?”

  “It’s the technology age. You can find out how often the President farts if you really want to know. Are you going to invite me in?”

  “Sure,” Courtney said and reluctantly stepped aside.

  As Jade walked into the living room, Courtney admired her shapely, compact ass sway with each step. Hey, she was despondent, not dead.

  “Wicked place you got here,” Jade said.

  “Thanks. Have a seat.”

  Jade dropped down on the fluffy cream sofa, taking in the Madame Monet and Her Son print Joanna had left on the wall. “How are you holding up?”

  “Aces,” Courtney mocked with two thumbs up. She slowly lowered herself onto the arm of the loveseat. “Did Lucy send you on this mission of mercy?”

  “Nobody knows I’m here. You’ve missed three consecutive Saturdays, plus the “L-Word” parties, and considering the state you were in last time we talked, I just wanted to see that you’re all right.”

  Courtney smiled. An expression of concern not laced with sexual innuendo. Did something leak into the tri-state area’s water supply? Why was everyone she knew suddenly acting like someone she didn’t?

  “Relax, Court. I’m not going to jump your bones the minute your back is turned.” Jade smiled. “Unless you beg me to.”

  Courtney slid down onto the loveseat cushions. “Shit, Jade. I just needed a break from the scene, you know? I see Julian occasionally when I need someone to talk me down.”

  “Oh, him. I’m kind of hurt though that you never took me up on my offer of dinner and a movie. I had a nasty breakup in college, and the only way I got through it was with lots of diversions. You need to get out of your own head for a while.”