Coda (Songs of Submission #9) (22 page)

“Mister Drazen, I don’t want to pressure you, but I hope you didn’t forget—”

“I forgot.”

“I can pick up a dozen roses.”

“Sure, Lil. Sure. Great idea.”

She left to do the impossible: find a dozen roses on Valentine’s Day for a man so enervated he couldn’t do it himself.

“Fuck you,” I whispered to heaven, my first sentiment of ingratitude in two months. “I’m getting over this.”

My recovery was on track. I had no reason to be so angry, except that I was cheating Monica out of her entitlements, and her number one entitlement was me. From that couch to the stars above, I owed her myself.

I picked up the phone and called my friend Paul. We spoke briefly, then I closed my eyes for a few hours.

***

I woke with a buildup behind my face and a sneeze.

They say your heart skips a beat when you sneeze, so when I sneezed four more times, I panicked unreasonably. Then I panicked again when I realized the sun was setting and I was still on the couch.

“Fuck!”

On the table next to me were a dozen red roses, beautifully arranged, and an empty card and a pen. Thank God for Lil. I needed to give her more money.

I picked up my phone. Sneezed again. Multiple texts from Monica.

—Still here—

—Will be late—

—How did the biopsy go?—

—Great session. Do you want dinner with me for Valentine’s? Or are we skipping?—

—Where are you?—

—Please just tell me you’re ok or I’m leaving the studio right now—

The last one had come in minutes before and had probably gotten me to wake up. I tapped a fast response so she wouldn’t panic. She panicked when I didn’t respond, or when I breathed too hard, or slept too much or too little.

—Just got up—

—thank you thank you thank you—

—Let me stretch and we’ll talk about tonight—

—No pressure but I hope it involves your cock in my mouth—

—But if not then ok I love you—

I sneezed when I smiled. It was the fucking roses. Snot built up behind my face. My sinuses felt as if they would explode. According to my doctors, if the buildup settled in my sinuses or lungs, my suppressed immune system would allow an infection. And like everything else in the goddamn universe, it could kill me. So I threw out the roses.

***

I’d sent Lil to pick up Monica an hour earlier. It was Friday, so traffic from the west side would be brutal. From my vantage point at the Griffith Park Observatory, I could see the city in all its jam-packed glory. Streetlights held their grid, and the car lights along Wilshire crawled. She was there, somewhere, on her way to me.

I hoped I’d pulled this off as if I’d planned better. Paul, the director of the observatory, had taken me to a stone veranda inaccessible to the public and let in caterers to set up a dinner for two overlooking Los Angeles. I had candles, heat lamps, chafing dishes, everything I could manage for her. Below me, clusters of tourists shifted on well-worn paths, their laughter and voices drifting up to me without meaning. They’d be gone in an hour when the museum closed, and we’d be here, on our perch above the city.

I’d texted and called, letting Monica know Lil would pick her up, but I hadn’t heard back. Once I told her I was fine, she probably shut the phone off to work. I considered the possibility that she was still in the studio, and would be until the wee hours of the morning, in which case I’d pack up dinner and go home, grateful she’d forgotten the holiday as well.

My phone rang.

“Hi, Lil. Where are you?”

“She’s gone, sir. Sorry, I’ve been looking, but it turns out she left.”

“Thanks. Head home. She probably went there.”

I called my wife, confident I wasn’t disturbing studio time. “Goddess?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m at a surprise location. Lil is—”

“You have to come home,” she said, her voice raspy from a day of abusing it.

“No, you have to come here.”

“Jonathan.”

“Monica.”

“I spent a week on this.”

I argued a little more after that, but she’d spent time on whatever it was, whereas I’d thrown something together because a medical technician had reminded me of the date eight hours earlier. I had the staff pack up everything.

***

Lil had gotten to me quickly. She pulled up to the front but didn’t go past the gate.

“Can you make it in from here?” she called back to me. “I’m not supposed to go past the gate.”

“You knew?”

“Well, no. I just got a call. She thought you’d be napping, but then this whole thing happened instead. Sorry. At least you have the roses I picked up.”

“Thank you, by the way.”

“My pleasure.”

I got out. The gate had a door-sized entry, and I went in that way. All the front lights were out, but Monica had put little paper lights along the drive, and I followed them to the house.

“The paper lights were going to go down the stairs,” she said. “But they’re fine outside too.”

She was naked on my porch.

Our porch.

“I love what you’re wearing,” I said.

“My mom got it for me.” She put her hands behind her back.

Had I thought she was too thin? She was perfect, her skin lit by candles and the moon, her hair falling over her shoulders like a scarf. I got on the step below her and touched her belly.

“You poor woman,” I said, kissing the space between her breasts. Peaches and honey. Her scent. I rubbed her skin, releasing the smell, and put my tongue on her nipple and sucked. My hands went down her back until I reached her clasped fingers. I took hers in mine.

“I need you, Jonathan. I had a whole speech prepared. But I forgot it.”

“I’m sorry you had to wait.”

“Can you take me? Please.”

“No pressure?”

She reached for my crotch, and I let her.

“Oh, you’re hard.”

“Very.”

She pulled me to a chair and sat me down. She got on her knees. Nothing could have pleased me more than her, naked, on my porch, kneeling before me. I put my hands in her hair as she took out my dick. I didn’t like her controlling the situation, but maybe it was the new heart that didn’t find it too offensive. Maybe I’d changed in more ways than one.

Her mouth was eager, her throat open for an aria. Her hands stayed behind her back. I knew what I would have done before the surgery. I would have jammed her head onto me. I would have gone fast just to make it more difficult for her. I would have been hard and cruel and derived satisfaction from her discomfort. But not that day.

She looked up at me, letting my dick pop out of her mouth. “Is it okay?”

“Get up here,” I said. “Straddle me. Let’s give this a go.”

“Really?”

“Don’t make me say it twice.”

She was up in a flash, thighs around me, eager hands around my base. “Fuck, Jonathan. You’re so hard.”

I put my hands on either side of her face and brought it to mine. “I own you,” I whispered.

“I love you too.” She hitched herself up, until the head of my dick was at her opening and her hands were on the back of the chair. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

I put downward pressure on my hands, and gingerly and slowly, she lowered herself onto me. She was wet and tight, and when she pulled up, the sensation of being pleasurably sucked overwhelmed me. I groaned. She slid down then up again. We kissed, breathed on each other’s faces, and kissed again.

I put my thumb on her clit, stroking up and down as she moved against me. In my life, I came when I wanted to and not a minute before. I listened for any number of physical signs so I knew when to hold back. One of them was my heart rate. So when the buildup in my groin happened without a feeling in my chest, I missed the opportunity to catch myself.

“I’m sorry,” I moaned. “I’m coming.”

“Come for me.”

She moved faster. I wasn’t in control. My body was betraying me. I had to give it up again. I came so hard I called her name to heaven.

Then I sneezed.

“Bless you.”

“Tha—”

Sneeze
.

“Bless—”

Sneeze
.

“How many more you got?”

I shrugged behind my hand.
Sneeze
.

She got off me. “Let me get you a tissue.”

She was up and through the front door before I could tell her I had a hankie. Then I knew what was causing the sneezing. I got up and stood in the doorway.

The living room was bedecked in roses.

She trotted down the stairs, still naked, carrying a box of tissues. “You were supposed to see this first. But I wasn’t about to say no on the porch.”

Sneeze
.

She handed me the box.

“Monica, I’m—”
Sneeze.
I waved at a cluster of yellow roses. “Why the yellow?”

“There’s a red rose for every day I’ve known you. A yellow for every day you were in the hospital. And one white.” She swallowed hard, and her mouth screwed up to one side. “For the day I thought you died.” Her eyes went wet.

I successfully held back a sneeze.

“I know what you think,” she said. “I know you’re worried about the recovery. And our sex life. You think you’re hiding it and being all strong, but I see it. I wanted to let you know—well, before I seduced you—that it didn’t matter. It takes what it takes. I’ll wait forever for you. Every day, I’m glad you’re alive.”

“My goddess. I’m so sorry.” I kissed her before she could protest, then I sneezed again. “We have to get rid of the roses, but first, I’m taking you upstairs. I’m fucking you as much as you deserve.”

“You’re dressed up.” She stepped back and looked me up and down as if she was seeing me for the first time. “Where were you when you called?”

“Not telling. It’s the idea for your birthday dinner now.”

“I ruined your Valentine’s dinner.”

“I’m throwing your roses out.”

“We suck at this.”

I sneezed and took her upstairs to fuck her as much as she deserved. And she deserved a lot.

Other books

Chains of a Dark Goddess by David Alastair Hayden
The Liberties of London by House, Gregory
Runt of the Litter by Sam Crescent
Charisma by Jo Bannister
Till Death Do Us Purl by Anne Canadeo
The Hanging of Samuel Ash by Sheldon Russell
Loving the Omega by Carrie Ann Ryan