Chapter 19
Gail was putting the finishing touches to her toilette. The slinky midnight blue jersey hugged her curves lovingly, and the clever cut accentuated her perfect, new breast. She ran her fingers through her artfully tousled hair. No matter how beautiful Myra might be, she, Gail, was not afraid of that competition any longer. For she knew now how to use her provocative charms cleverly. The wide mouth painted a deep red, looked like a passion flower, and the mauve eye shadow enhanced the brilliance of her green eyes.
She was debating whether to leave Jack a note that she and Myra were in the lounge, or whether to call the suite later, when he walked in.
"Oh darling, I was just leaving you a note." She walked up to him and took off his hat, smoothing his hair with light fingers. "You look like you could use a pickup Better freshen up a bit. Guess who we are meeting at the lounge bar?"
"We are not meeting anybody; you run along, I'm bushed."
"Well, in that case, shall I give sister Myra your best?"
The coat dropped to the floor; he blinked. "Did you say Myra? How-how did you get in touch with her?"
"I didn't have to, she called. So I made the appointment. Isn't it wonderful, my dear little sister, the famous novelist?" She beamed at him.
"Did she want to speak to me?" he asked naively.
"apparently. So, she must have a yen to renew your old-romance." In her mouth the word sounded obscene.
"You run along," he passed a weary hand over his forehead. "I'll join you shortly. In the lounge, did you say?"
"Dear, you heard me the first time." She pecked his cheek, picked up her mink stole and purse and floated out of the room leaving a trad of Shalimar behind.
Just like that, thought Jack, sitting down to gather his errant thoughts. As if they had been loving sisters ... What made Myra consent to this meeting? But she had called him, that meant she wanted to see him. He would not fad her.
In less than fifteen minutes he had showered and shaved and donned his new charcoal suit. Lord knows what might have happened by now between those two. There might be a hair-pulling.
But when he entered the bar, he saw Gad and Myra and a tall thin man with a shock of red hair sitting in the last booth in animated conversation.
"Oh there you are, Jack." Gail was all smiling graciousness. "Doesn't Myra look terrific-so Holly-woodish. And she brought a boy friend along. Meet Sid Graham. Sid, my husband, Jack Michaels," she introduced. Jack shook the man's bony hand and sized him up as a sharp character.
"Evening Myra. You look lovely as ever." He sat down next to Gail, facing Myra, perturbed by the change in her. The new sophisticated hairdo and the glossy make up made her a different girl. She wore a daringly cut grey silk dress that out-and underlined the richness of her breast. And he wondered whether the three sparkling bracelets were real.
"Thank you, Jack. Hollywood agrees with me." Her enticing smile was for Sid, not him. "You do look a bit tired. But then, Gail told me how hard you work."
Gail was shamelessly flirting with Sid, laughing at some joke he told her, leaning across die table, their heads almost touching. Let her, thought Jack. All I want is to have Myra alone to myself, make her listen to me.
"You know, I really had forgotten how you look," said Myra.
"I have never forgotten Myra-nothing." He put empathy in his low voice, his dark eyes beseeched.
"Some things are best forgotten," she said lightly. "As one gets older one gathers experience along the way. What seemed drama once, may now seem simply comical." Her voice was flat, no glimmer of expression showed on her face.
Jack looked at Gail and Sid who were chuckling, heads close together. From there, his eyes went to Myra. Obviously that Graham man didn't mean much to her. She didn't waste any looks on the two of them.
"Myra," he kept his voice low, "can you ever forgive me ... You know how Gail operates, and now I know it too. I read the book-your book. I'm leaving, Myra-" he forgot about the child on the way-"do I have a second chance?"
Myra's lowered lashes hid the expression of her eyes. The mouth was a thin red seam. "Yes, I see Gail operating right now," she said, her voice composed. "And I understand now how she-got you. Well, I hope you two are very happy."
"Myra," he compelled her to look into his eyes, "I'm the most miserable man on earth. I told you the truth-I am through with her. She came here just to make trouble."
The waiter, standing at their table, cut his speech short.
"What is everyone drinking?" asked Jack.
"Sid here and I shall continue with scotch and water, right Sid?"
Sid nodded, and Jack ordered another bourbon for Myra and the same for him.
"Are you happy here in this glittering town? I guess you can write your own ticket." Jack caught Myra's hand that lay on the table but she withdrew it.
"Happiness is a fairy tale word. I feel-important.
And I have my next book all planned. Imagine, they're going to give me a screen test. If I click I may get a major part in my own movie." Her violet eyes held a purplish tinge; she took a deep breath. "Yes, I shall have a full life."
"It's, difficult to have a full life if one isn't loved and loves back."
"I'll settle for lighter sentiments, like liking somebody," she said. "One doesn't get hurt that way."
Jack took a long pull at his drink and suddenly die world looked brighter to him. "Well how about us two-liking each other?"
She smiled broadly. "I like you better in this mood, Jack. Let's enjoy the moment. "
"Did I hear you say enjoy die moment?" Gail turned to Myra. "I'm all for it. Let's make a night of it. Sid knows of a cute place with exciting French dancers. How about it?"
Sid lifted a conjuring hand. "I warn you, one and all, to leave your inhibitions at die door."
The Coin Noir was a dimly lit cellar on the outskirts of town. A ravishing redhead, partially covered by a tight black velvet sheath split at the side and showing a white flash of thighs, showed them to a corner table. Candles sheathed in bottles shed a flickering light on checkered table-cloths. There were only a handful of people, all couples, sitting practically on top of each other. The three piece orchestra played a plaintive, staccato rumba, and on die tiny dance floor two couples were convulsed in a tight embrace rubbing against each other.
Sid ordered champagne which Jack found out of order in a dump like that. But he refrained from voicing it.
"Just wait till Lilith performs," said Sid, who was sitting close to Gad. "She has more sex appeal than all the starlets thrown together."
"Look over there." Following Myra's glance, Jack saw two women huddled tightly together at the next table. The younger one in a tight white sweater looked like a high school kid. Her partner, a lean, olive-skinned woman in her forties, was caressing die girl, now bending close and kissing her on die cheek.
"Shocking," quoth Jack. "She's a mere kid."
"Come on Jack, bury your scruples. I find it intriguing," said Myra lightly.
Jack's retort choked in his throat, for now die floor had been cleared and the spotlight was on Lilith who wriggled into the middle of the empty space. Raven hair fell down to the girl's plump buttocks, barely covering die ivory mounds of breast with their saucy tips. A transparent gold veil covered her midriff and a golden fig leaf hid the strategic spot. In die pale face the dark eyes were liquid velvet. The mouth was a red gash. She had the figure of a Venus, and as she slowly undulated in rhythm with the music, her breasts swung freely with a life of their own.
"How cute, those gold-tipped nipples," giggled Gail, clutching Sid's hand.
Now the dancer's bare feet beat a choppy rhythm and as she bent forward she removed the golden veil, including fig leaf, telling the world she was a brunette. She now danced to Jack's table, her dark inviting eyes on Gail, who smiled back.
"She likes you," said Sid, pushing out a chair for the dancer who sat down, accepting the glass of champagne from Sid.
"To your green eyes, ma cherie," she toasted Gail who emptied her glass. "How are you, Monsieur Graham? You haven't honored us for a long time. Is this going to be another party at your place?"
"Well, I don't know, Lilith."
To Jack's horror, Myra spoke up. "Yes, why not, Sid? Let's take Lilith along to your place. Might be fun."
Jack wanted to object, but that meant he would have to take Gail home. So he agreed and, half an hour later, they all landed in Sid's bungalow, high atop a steep canyon.
Sid was behind the mahogany bar, mixing his special cocktail. "Hot Tongue, I call them, and rightly so," he chuckled, dexterously manipulating shakers, ice cubes and glasses, now pouring from many different bottles and shaking up a storm.
Myra must have been here before, thought Jack with a pang of jealousy. She had put his hat and coat away in the hall closet and now was busy with the record player, stacking a pile of carefully selected disks on the turn table. Sid must be doing well, thought Jack. The large room was furnished with flat-planed, expensive modern pieces; the wall to wall grey carpet was expensive. Only one tall lamp was shedding a dim light over the space, leaving the corners in semi-darkness. Lilith with clothes on, her hair in a bun, seemed less exotically exciting. She and Gail were sitting on the grey couch in a far corner, heads close together. Presently Myra joined Jack on die couch and allowed him to hold her hand. They listened to Rhapsody in Blue.
Sid walked around bearing drinks for everyone.
"To a night we shall enjoy and should forget," he toasted cryptically, making Jack frown.
"Relax Jack," Myra pumped his hand. "You look as disapproving as a Sunday school teacher with an empty class room." She clinked her glass to his. "Let's drink up and-forget."
The sweet-sour concoction was strong as dynamite making Jack cough and splutter. Rut Myra drained her glass holding it out to Sid for a refill.
"Careful Myra, it has a wallop."
"I like to be wallopped," said Myra, her eyes daring him, emptying the glass.
"Lilith, you look best au natural. Come on, start shedding." Saying this, Sid pulled the girl to her feet and unzipped" the monkish black dress. Gingerly she stepped out of it and they all gaped. For beneath the dress there was just Lilith. Apparently the girl knew what was expected of her. She started doing bumps and grinds, now taking off her pumps, doing a split. The black cape of hair shifted about, concealing and revealing her firm breasts and now, slowly, she paraded from one person to the next, allowing Gail to clutch at her apples, then again kissing Sid smack on the lips. Jack stiffened as Myra's white hand darted out to caress the girl's cheek, and from there traded down to where the golden fig leaf once had been. As Lilith halted before him, he inhaled her spicy perfume and it was Myra who placed Jack's hand on the girl's fleshy derriere.
Sid opened a door, inviting. "Into the boudoir, ladies and gents. Let's take our inhibitions off with our coverings."
Sid, Gail and Lilith marched into the bedroom, leaving Jack and Myra to themselves. Myra's eyes held a strange brilliance. She turned her face to Jack and in it he read unbridled lust. He was shocked, repelled, and yet, attracted.
"Myra, my love," his arms were about her and he pressed her close. "Let's leave. This is no place for decent people like you and me. I have longed for this moment."
But Myra detached herself, her eyes mocking. "Really Jack, don't act old fashioned. This is a novel experience-exciting. And I love excitement." Her arms were tight about his neck and she glued her lips to his, now parting them with her tongue that swished lightly over his teeth. They came open and he felt the velvety nakedness of that tongue titillating his palate. Well, if she wants it that way, he thought, clutching the soft roundness of her breasts, shivers of excitement coursing through him.
It was she who put out the lamp and in the dark he heard the rustle of her clothes hitting the rug. Still he sat there turned to stone, hating her for being just another thrill-starved dame, hating to discover that his idol had clay feet. Her fingers fumbled with his clothes. Well, what the heck, he was no saint.
They stood, tightly pressed together, his hardness straining against her soft curves, his fingers digging into the resilient cushions of her derriere. He felt the nipples harden against his chest. She moaned low. He carried her to the couch, depositing her carefully, kneeling by her side, wanting to worship, caress and fondle. He kissed her breasts, whispering words of endearment, stored up for this moment.
Rut she was impatient. She pulled him down over her, pressing him close, lips fused to his. "Tell me, Jack, how good is Gad? Does she kiss better than I?"
"Forget about Gail, she was-a mistake," he muttered, his hands in her sdky hair.
"And, were there many others, Jack? I mean girls you've made love to? Did they affect you as I do?"
"Stop asking Myra. I'm with the one woman I love-the only one for me."
Her voice had a cutting edge that paralyzed his ardor. "I prefer a man with experience, Jack. You see, I have changed. I like variety in men. It heightens the thrill. And after it's over I take myself back, all of myself, and I can walk away whole."
"Myra, you're teasing me. You're not like Gad." He bit her lip and slapped her cheek, releasing his anger but she clung to him even closer, seeming to enjoy his cruelty.
"And why should I be different from Gail? We are of the same blood." She moved beneath him and he inhaled the exotic scent that clung to her, his nerves on edge. He would show her, prove it to her that when a man truly loved a woman and made love to her lovingly, she couldn't just walk away when it was over.
"You're just acting, Myra," he whispered into her hair. "Punishing me for past mistakes. I want you all for myself, exclusively."
"No more talk," said Myra, gripping him, taking over.
He had intended to be careful and considerate, but she wanted brutal attack. So he infiltrated the alien territory relentlessly, pushing, thrusting forward, immersed in soft quicksand. His hands held her down and he moaned feeling her moving to edge him on and to further their, excitement. She bit his lower lip and pulled at his hair. A raucous gasp escaped her throat.
"Deeper, faster," she commanded, and he intensified the attack, his body on fire, his head reeling, a strange fury making him want to annihilate her, to finish her off so that there would be nothing left for another man. But the deeper he intruded and the more violent his thrusts became, the more she seemed to enjoy it.
"Darling, my breasts, please." He nipped at the hard nipple and listened to her hysterical giggle which was more of a sob.
"Don't stop, faster," she said, and he obliged, inundated in a sea of fire. Her thighs were clamped about his, and now he finally possessed her powerfully and forcefully, listening to her whimper and gasp of surrender.
She pushed him off. "I better get to the bathroom." She got up, breaking the spell.
He was hitching up his trousers when the lights flared up and their laughter greeted his sheepish expression, Lilith stood in the room and behind her were Sid and Gail in the altogether.
"No use pretending," said Gad. "Myra had to cross the boudoir to get to the bathroom."
Sid distributed some more drinks and Jack was worrying about Myra whose clothes lay crumpled on the rug. He picked them up and crossed over to the bedroom. "I better...." He disappeared, hearing their ringing laughter. He crossed the spacious bedroom looking at the mussed bed wondering whether the three of them had occupied it. Myra came out of the adjoining bathroom.
"How thoughtful of you, Jack." She took the rumpled clothes from his arm and tossed them nonchalantly on the bed, lying down on die rumpled sheet. "I think I shall rest awhile. You better go back to the others and enjoy yourself. That Lilith may teach you some new tricks," she giggled.
Jack sat down on the bed; his right hand trickled down her satiny front. "Is that all you can say to me, Myra? How could I look at another woman now-after...."
Myra sat up in bed. "Now Jack, we finally did it. And I enjoyed it. But it's over. No harm done. Now you can go back to Gad and make the best of your marriage." Her voice was flat, her eyes held no warmth.
Jack looked at her and his heart turned to stone. She had amused herself with him. To her, he was just another male with the necessary accoutrement to thrill her. She was no better than Gail-or Ninon. No, Ninon is different, he thought; she has feelings. With her he could be tender and loving without appearing ridiculous.
"I hope you have a nice rest." He turned and walked out of the room, out of the apartment. He knew where he was going to spend the rest of the night. Not with Gail, nor with Lilith. He stopped at the corner phone booth and called Ninon whose sleepy voice answered.
"Ninon, this is Jack-Jack Michaels. Can I come to your place?"
"Well, it's only a room. But yes, do come."
He repeated the address after her. "I'll be there shortly." He hung up, left the booth and hailed a cruising cab, giving the driver Ninon's address. In Ninon's arms he would bury the memory of Myra who had gone completely Hollywood. i