Chapter 9

SEBASTIAN WOLFF WAS DRUNK. He sat at the bar of the Lobster Tail, drinking beer at a steady, regular pace. He had been there all day, but the only outward sign of the alcohol was in position of his shoulders, bunched tightly under his shirt. And one or two more wrinkles in his forehead.

He was unhappy.

Sebastian could not remember being sad over a woman for a good many years. He didn't like the feeling. But it refused to leave him, and he tried to reason' it out.

He liked, had liked, Christine more than he had ever liked another woman. Perhaps he even loved her. Whereas he would have laughed at the situation if it were another girl he felt very sad, almost sick, at the thought of Christine being had by all those men, all at the same time. He could still see her lying on the bed, speaking his name without inflection, with only a trace of resignation. As though she were just becoming aware of what had happened.

Wolff was not stupid. He could see the reason for what Christine had done, could even find a bolster for his ego in the fact that she had sunk to the lowest degradation without caring ... because he, Sebastian, had left her. Looking at it this way, he could still love her.

But reasons aside, the fact remained. And he was too much of an egotist to admit that he wanted her back after she had been unfaithful to him, after she had answered his infidelity in kind. Not for revenge, nor for justification, but rather through complete despair.

"Goddamit," muttered Sebastian. He raised his glass and emptied it with one steady motion. I must get my mind off these thoughts, he said to himself. Perhaps tomorrow things will look a little clearer, and I'll look Chris up and forgive her.

Beat her.

Make love to her.

He looked around the bar. There was one woman there, sitting behind him in a booth. He decided that she was pretty, the kind of prettiness that would completely disappear with he next sober day, and leave him with doubts about his judgment.

But, at the moment, pretty.

She was sitting opposite a man, talking earnestly, and drinking heavily. The man seemed charmed by her. Wolff took his glass and strolled to the cigarette machine, which was directly behind the woman.

He listened to her talk, for a moment. She was discussing poetry, saying nothing but saying it with enough conviction to completely overwhelm her companion. The man had no chance to speak, only nodding his head in agreement form time to time.

Wolff bought a pack of cigarettes, and took his time about opening it, standing close behind the girl and watching her. She became aware of his eyes on her, and turned her head.

Wolff said, "Cigarette?" and extended the pack.

She frowned, thinking that he must know her, and trying to recall who he was. The cigarettes remained extended and she took one, held it to her lips and waited for a light.

Wolff took one too, lit hers first and then his own. He held the match out to her, and she blew it out.

"Thank you," she said.

"How are you?" asked Wolff.

"Fine. I'm sorry, but I don't recall your name," she answered.

"Sebastian," he said.

She still didn't remember. His face was not familiar, his name was unusual, and yet he seemed to know her.

"I'm sorry," she said, "But I still can't recall where we've met. Are you sure you know me?"

He answered, "No," and came around the table, looking at the seat beside her. She moved over, and Sebastian sat next to her. It was a small seat, and their legs pressed together.

He said, "No" I don't know you. I just offered you a cigarette. But I want to know you. I heard you speaking and knew that you were a girl who was worth knowing."

"Thank you, she said, looking at him without embarrassment and blowing smoke through her nose.

Sebastian looked at her companion. He asked, "Are you with this fellow? I'd hate to break up the party."

"No, he just bought me a beer."

"Good," said Wolff. "I'll buy you a beer too. I'll buy you many, many beers. If you like."

"Yes," said the other man, "Join us, will you?" Sebastian tried to note sarcasm in his voice, but the man sounded serious. Well, he thought, what else could the guy do under the circumstances except make a fool of himself or leave. The girl is setting the scene.

Wolff ordered a round, flashing the large bills so that the girl would see them and remembering that they were Christine's, that they were to get married on. The bartender brought the beer.

"Thank you," said the other man.

Wolff nodded, without looking at him. He looked at the girl, while she drank. When she set the glass down, he said, "I don't know your name yet. What is it?"

"Patsy."

"You are a poet." "How did you know?" "You look like a poet."

"What," she asked, "does a poet look like?"

"Charming. Interesting. Pretty in a way that needs no artificial aids. Intelligent. Desirable."

"That's what a poet looks like?" she asked, raising her eyebrows and half smiling at him.

"That," he answered, "is what you look life." "And are you interested in poetry?" "I'm interested in you."

"I see," she said. She looked down at the table, twisting her glass and watching the beer splash from side to side. She was trying to figure out what Wolff was, and she was a little too drunk to reason at her best. But she knew that he was much more charming than the bore across the table, and that she wanted to talk to him.

"What," she asked, "are you interested in knowing about me. I'm very honest and will answer all questions."

Sebastian laughed and took another drink. "I want to know all about you. Everything. But I'd better keep the personal questions until later, when we are alone."

"Are we going to be alone?"

"Since that fellow was only buying you a drink, I imagine we shall be alone very shortly."

The other man stood up. Wolff turned to him, hands loose and ready, but the man showed no anger. He also looked very drunk, now that he was standing. He said, "Thanks again for the beer. It was very nice of you to buy me a beer. I must go now, I have things to do. Can I buy you a drink before I go?"

"No need. I'll see you."

"Okay, thanks." He left, and Wolff watched him go, feeling rather sorry for him and noticing that it was dark out and that the whole day had gone by without his realizing it.

"I guess we are alone," Patsy said.

"Yes. I hope you don't mind."

"I'm glad to be rid of him. He was very stupid. All he was after was my body."

"I don't blame him. It's a very nice body."

"And you want it too?"

"Yes."

"But at. least you're not stupid. Or boring.. Sex isn't the only thing you can think of."

"No, I can manage a few other thoughts."

"You're not from Boston?"

"New York."

"I'd love to go to New York. I've never been there, but I have lots of friends who live there now."

"I'll take you," Wolff said.

"Really? When?"

"Whenever you want."

"Let's go now," she said. She was very enthusiastic. Wolff pursed his lips, thinking of excuses to make. He had no way to take her to New York, and no desire to. Sitting next to her, he thought that she was not as pretty as she had appeared to be at first.

"When must you be back?" he asked.

"Anytime. Never. I don't have to be anywhere."

"Do you have a place here?"

She said, "Well, it's a long story. You see, I've been living with a guy here in Boston. Up until this morning. But I hated him. He is a real bore, but it was a place to live and free meals. But I had to sleep with him, and he is a little jerk." She stopped to take a drink. "I don't mind sleeping with a man, in fact I like to very much. But he is such a jerk." Her glass was empty when she put it down. Sebastian caught the bartender's eye and the man brought two more over.

"Thank you," she said. "Anyway, this morning I got fed up, couldn't take him anymore. We had a fight and I left. I'm not going back there. So I'm not living anywhere right now. But I have lots of friends in New York with whom I could stay. Or ... if you wanted ... I could stay with you. You're not married or anything are you?"

"No."

"Well, I would stay with you if you wanted, or I could stay with friends, and come and see you sometimes. I wouldn't mind sleeping with you if you wanted me to."

"A nice thought," Sebastian told her. "You could stay with me if we go there."

"Let's go right now. My things are still at Calvin's. That's the guy I was staying with. But I don't have much, just my clothes and a few books, they would fit in a car with no trouble. Where is your car?"

Sebastian tipped his glass, letting the question slide. She was in a talking mood, and didn't wait for an answer. She said, "Let's go over there right now. I want to see how surprised he is when he realizes that I'm not going to be back. It's just around the corner, we can walk over and I'll pack my things." She finished her beer and stood up.

"Let's have one more," Sebastian said.

"Okay," she said, and sat down again. Wolff wanted to be alone with her, but didn't know where to take her. He wasn't on good terms with Kelly after the party, and he didn't know anyone else in Boston. Also, he had no car and didn't want to let Patsy know this, since he was supposedly taking her to New York.

He asked, "Are you sure Calvin will be home?"

"Yes, there's a party there tonight. It's already started so he'll be there and I can tell him I'm going."

Wolff thought that if it were anything like the party at Kelly's, it might be worth dropping in. There would probably be a chance to get Patsy in one of the bedrooms. And she could drink more there, and probably lose track of Sebastian, and he could leave without making excuses or lying about coming back.

He said, "Let's go."

She finished the drink and they left. She said, "It's just around the block," and took Sebastian's hand. He noticed that she was heavier than she looked sitting down, and shorter. He was not sure that ha wanted to go to bed with her. And he thought sadly of Christine's long, willowy body, and her black hair and dove white skin. He resolved to find her the next day, and to forgive her.

It was cold. Wolff hunched his shoulders against the wind, but Patsy didn't seem to notice, although she had no coat. She kept up a constant stream of words, about how glad she was to be leaving Boston and what a good time they would have together in

New York.

Goddamn, thought Wolff, will she never shut up? There is nothing worse than talking too much. And her voice is too shrill, it grates on my nerves like sandpaper. Why did she look desirable to me in that bar? I'd better duck out the first chance I get.

"Here it is," she said. It was an apartment building, brownstone. Very much like Kelly's, and Wolff thought for a moment that it was. But the stairs were different, and the floor.

They walked up three flights, and Patsy knocked loudly at one of the doors. Loud music was coming from the other side.

"Come on," she said, "Open the door, you little bastard."

She knocked again, and in a moment the door was opened. A small dark-haired man stood there, with a bottle of scotch in one hand and an album cover in the other.

"Oh, it's you," he said. "I thought you were going for good."

"I just came for my clothes," Patsy said.

Calvin looked at Sebastian. Wolff felt embarrassed. He didn't want to have Patsy tell anyone that she was leaving with him. She was neither pretty nor charming enough to satisfy Wolff's ego. He would sleep with her, but he hated to have anyone think that he liked her enough to take her home with him.

She said, "This is Sebastian. He's taking me to New York with him and I'm going to stay there."

Calvin extended his hand. Wolff shook it, eyebrows arched. Patsy went in and Calvin said, "Come on in. Might as well have a drink while you wait for her."

He led Wolff down a dark hall, and into a room. There were no lights, but Wolff could vaguely make out figures. Calvin disappeared, and returned with a bottle of beer.

"I'm glad Patsy found a place to stay," he said.

"She seems to think so," Wolff said.

"You're doing me a favor," Calvin told him. "I kicked her out this morning, but she didn't have anywhere to go and I thought she might be back here. The chick drives me crazy."

"I was hoping you might make up and she would decide to stay here," Wolff said, determined not to appear to want Patsy in front of a guy wo didn't want her and had kicked her out.

"Not a chance, man," said Calvin.

"She seems to think that she's going to New York with me. I'll be damned if I know where she got the idea."

"The chick's a nut. A real pretzel. Take her along and give her to all your virgin friends. You'll be doing me a favor, and all of Boston for that matter."

"That bad, huh," Wolff said.

"Real bad. She never stops talking, even when she's horizontal. She'll drive you crazy."

A girl came over to them, said, "Dance with me, Calvin," and he moved away from Wolff. The latter found a vacant chair and sat.

He looked around the room, barely making out the different forms. There were girls and men both, mostly paired up. Some were dancing. Sebastian was looking for a lone girl, with one eye on the door in case Patsy appeared. He doubted if she could see him in the dark room, hoped she would think that he had left.

A girl who had been dancing came over and sat next to Sebastian. She had long straight hair and heavily made up eyes. Her levis were very tight, stretched over her rounded thighs and buttocks.

Sebastian looked at her. She looked back, lazily, through her darkened eyes.

"Roxanne," she said.

"Sebastian," he told her.

She looked away. Wolff held out his bottle, said, "Drink?"

"Thank you," she answered, taking a drink. "You must think I'm quite forward."

He shrugged.

"I am," Roxanne said. "I'm very forward."

"Good," said Sebastian. He put his arm around her, loosely. "Just to show the others that you are taken," he said.

"Am I taken?"

"Yes. Are you alone?"

"I was. It looks like I'm with you now."

"Where do you live? I mean, are you living alone?"

"I live with my parents. South Boston. So we can't go to my place and be alone, if that's what you were thinking."

Sebastian started to answer, then saw Patsy in the door. She was looking around, but couldn't see him. After a moment she disappeared.

He looked back at Roxanne and decided that she was much better looking than Patsy. And her body was much nicer. A small waist, but well filled out on either side of it.

He said, "I'm glad you came over. I'm a stranger here, and very lonely. I was just planning to leave."

"Well then, I'm glad too. These people bore me. When I saw a new face I thought you might be different."

"I am," he said.

"We'll see," Roxanne said. "Let's dance."

They danced to a slow number. Sebastian put both his arms around her, and held her tightly to him. His hands were low on her back, pressing her hips against his, and she didn't object. She put her arms around his neck and they moved slowly, not keeping time to the music, but not caring. When the dance ended they clung for a moment, then separated.

"Thanks," said Sebastian. "You are very nice."

She smiled.

They went back to their seats. Another man came over as the music started again and said, "Let's dance, Roxanne."

"Sorry," she said, "I'm with Sebastian."

"Okay, some other time," he said. He walked away. Sebastian took Roxanne's hand and squeezed it.

"Thanks," he said.

"What for?"

"For being mine," he told her, "And for not dancing with the other guy. I'd be jealous."

"If I'm yours, then I'm all yours," she said.

Sebastian Wolff felt very good about this.

Sebastian said, "I have to go to the John. I hope you will be true to me until I return."

"Of course," Roxanne said.

He left the room, and went down the hall. Patsy was coming up, and met him. "Where have you been?" she asked. s

"Waiting for you," he answered.

"I'm all packed."

"Well, let's wait while I have one more beer."

"Okay," she said. "No hurry."

Sebastian went on. On his way back he saw Patsy again, in one of the bedrooms. She was lying on the bed with Calvin. He was kissing her neck and she was talking to him. Wolff grinned, thinking, they are a good couple, it would be a shame to break them up.

Roxanne was still in the chair. Two guys were talking to her, and Wolff pushed between them and sat. She turned to him, ignoring them, and the two went away.

"See how true I am?" she asked. "You're lovely," he said.

The party broke up at three A.M. Wolff had not seen Patsy again, but he noticed that the bedroom door was closed as he passed by. He left with Roxanne, and they walked a few blocks to an all-night restaurant.

"Just coffee," she told him, and he ordered two at the counter and brought them to the table.

"Do you have a car?" she asked.

"No, but I have lots of money. We'll take a cab wherever you want to go."

"I must go home. My parents are nice, but they might not understand if I stayed out all night."

"Okay, we'll go home."

"I'll go home," she corrected him. "They also wouldn't understand if I brought you in at this hour."

He wondered if he should have stayed with Patsy. They went outside and he hailed a cab. Roxanne gave the address, snuggled close to Sebastian and let him kiss her. He kissed her many times while the taxi drove rapidly through the deserted streets.

When the cab stopped, they both go out. Roxanne said, "You'd better tell him to wait for you."

Sebastian paid him, and turned to her. "You can't refuse me coffee to fortify me for the long, cold trip back."

"Well, just a quick cup. And you'll have to be quiet and not wake anyone up." "Quiet as a mouse," he said.

They went in the back door. Roxanne led him through a pitch-black house, and down a flight of stairs. At the bottom she lit a lamp, and Wolff saw that he was in a cellar-kitchen. There was another room adjoining, and he saw a couch in it. He thought, a place to consummate our love.

Roxanne made coffee, and sat next to him. She asked, "Will I see you again?"

"Yes, tomorrow."

"What time?"

"Early. I won't be able to stay away from you for long. I love you so much."

"You're drunk."

"Never. Just in love."

They finished the coffee. Roxanne placed the cups in the sink and came back to the table. Instead of sitting, she bent over and kissed Sebastian on the cheek.

"You'll have to go now," she said, "I'm very tired."

He stood up, started to kiss her, then changed his mind and lifted her from the floor.

"What are you doing?" she said.

"Be quiet," he said. "You'll wake your parents."

He carried her into the adjoining room and sat her on the couch.

"You really must go," she said, as he sat down next to her.

"Kiss me first."

She kissed him. He ground his lips to hers, and she responded in kind. Her tongue moved, sliding against his, in his mouth. He felt a rising passion for her, and when their lips parted, Sebastian held her very close and tight, feeling her breasts pressing against his chest.

"You must go now," she said, softly.

"Kiss me once more, and I will."

Their lips met again. And their tongues. Wolff lay her back, stretching his body out against hers, lying against her. His arms were around her, and he let his hands move down, let his fingers work on her buttocks, large and firm through the tight levis.

When they parted this time, Roxanne was breathing heavily. She said, "We can't do anything here, so there's no sense in getting both of us aroused. You have to go right now."

"Okay," Wolff said, but made no effort to go. He put his lips against her once more, and she moved to meet him, with a little sign. Her fingers held his head, ran through his hair, pressing.

Sebastian touched her breasts. She moved his hand away, but he put it back. His fingers felt the roundness of her breasts, rubbed them.

Roxanne twisted her lips away, saying, "Sebastian ... someone might come down here at any time."

"The hell with them."

"Please..."

He was working on the buttons of her blouse. It fell open and he said, "Take it off."

"No, not here."

"Where, then?"

"There isn't anywhere."

"Take it off, or I'll rip it off."

"Will you stop there? With my blouse?"

"Brassiere too."

"Just that far?"

"All right," he said.

She sat up and took the blouse off. Then reached behind and unfastened the brassiere. It fell away, revealing her swelling breasts. Lovely, full breasts, thought Sebastian. Firm, and round with beautiful cleavage for..." He placed his hand on one, and could feel Roxanne's whole body tremble.

"Remember, you said that this was all," she reminded him.

He didn't answer. He moved toward her, his mouth touching her breasts. His mouth moved, circularly on her, his tongue licking, ending at the nipple which swelled in his mouth. He worked his fingers on her breast feeling the rich fullness of it, down her bare midriff, pulling at the top of her very tight jeans.

Roxanne held his head to her, leaning back. Her eyes were shut, her mouth open. She could feel herself shudder and vibrate with passion.

Sebastian worked on her breasts for a long time, moving from one to the other. His hand unfastened the zipper of her levis, and played on her belly, stroked her smoothness.

Then he slid under the loosened jeans, moved his fingers down her warm belly, under the elastic of her panties.

"No," she cautioned him, "You said only the top." she grasped his arm, but didn't move nor open her eyes.

He took her hand and placed it around his shoulders. "Put your arm here and hold me," he told her. "I just want to touch you, that's all. Don't stop me, please."

His hand moved once more down her stomach, belly. Beneath the panties, and down. Her body was tense, rigid.

Then he touched her, and she relaxed with a sigh, holding his hand to her and moving herself against him. His lips moved on her nipples, warm-wet.'

"Please be quiet," she whispered. He felt her undo his slacks, felt her hand on him. Wolff pulled her levis down and off, and she arched her back to help. Her thighs were full and womanly, her hips broad and sensuous. She moved her body in passion against his hand.

Sebastian swung around, pressing himself to her. Her thighs spread wide, and she pulled him, urged him onward. She was gasping and trembling, heaving with desire.

Poised on the brink, touching and feeling the warmth of her, he whispered: "Shall I go before someone comes?"

"Oh God, no. Love me. Make love to me!" she cried.

"We'll wake someone," he said. "Love me! I can't stand it!"

She was shaking, whimpering. Sebastian thrust forward, pushing himself hard against her. She cried in pleasure, in agony, in need. She said, "Oh, yes. That way! Love me!"

Sebastian did. He drove himself to her, loving her as deeply as he could. He drove himself, and her, to the highest point of feeling, building a growing tingle from his legs upward, concentrating in his loins and up.

And bursting forth.

Roxanne gasped, sighed, smiled and settled in happy contentment.

And Sebastian wondered, lazily, whether they had awakened anyone.