Saturday, January 27, 2018

PURSUIT: A Novel – 56: Santa Cristina


Jerry’s Apartment, Same Day, July 30, 1989
Jessie sat on a tall wooden stool with elbows propped on the kitchen bar and arms crossed underneath her bikini top leaning forward as she watched Jerry chop veggies. “You’re pretty good at that, not chopping your fingers. Ever cut yourself?”
“Nope. The trick is to curl your fingertips and hold the blade rather than the handle.” His eyes wandered to her cleavage that burst from her red and white striped top.
“Trick is to pay attention to what you’re doing.” She laughed as his chopping without looking sent the diced zucchini over the counter’s edge. He joined in the making fun and scooped the remainder into a stainless steel chef’s bowl, tossing a few pieces at her. She opened her mouth as a target. He scored two, and then one bounced off the rim of her lip to land between her breasts. “Nice score. We’ll leave that for later.”
Jerry raised his eyebrows. Reaching into the fridge, he pulled out a package wrapped in white paper. “Kabobs okay with you? Not much to choose from except what I saved for dinner since I leave early in the morning for the land Down Under.”
“Sure, meat on a stick, my fave,” she coyly offered and drew her smiling eyes away from his, then glanced back with amorous lips.
Jerry caught himself inhaling deeply as her openly suggestive reply sent him a jolt of excitement. “Alright then, sheesh kabobs it is with— ”
“And what’s this ‘down under’? Only down under I know of is doing the wild—”
“Australia, the down under continent on the opposite side of the globe.”
“Totally tubular dude. Why the big trip? You running from something? Isn’t that where the Brits sent their convicts?”
“Had we not just met, I would tell you more, wouldn’t want to scare you off.”
“So you are a bit devious.” She slid off the stool and edged around the bar. “I took you as a redneck with starch in his jeans.” She stood behind him and rested her chin on his shoulder. “We’re the same height,” she purred in his ear.
He turned. Her closeness penetrated into space reserved for someone he knew intimately, the electricity between them magnetizing his senses. They were the same height exactly, eye to eye, nose to nose, and lips—
They stared into each other’s eyes, the black depth of hers was like looking into a well searching for its end, an infinite search and endless pursuit, it drew every thought from his mind, loosed every inhibition in his heart. He felt the warmth of her breath on his lips, her scent wafting inside his nostrils as he breathed. In the inky blackness of the ocean of her eyes, he found his eyes closing as he pressed his lips against the cushion of hers.

 

“Hungry?”
“Most definitely,” Jessie breathed, tingling his lips with her response.
“I’ll slip in an extra ‘shrimp on the barbie’ for you.”
“Where’s the beef, dude?”
He pressed against her.
“Likin’ the way you feel, baby,” she whispered in his ear.
Her warm breath sent an ominous shiver down his arms, and he released his embrace.
“Anything to drink?” She moved to the center of the room, her firm glutes catching his eye.
“Hmmm, that, I don’t do much, makes me crazy.”
“I like crazy.” She turned around with hands on hips, modeling the red, white, and blue bikini that showed more than it covered up.
“I betcha do.”
“Like, crazy man doesn’t know what he do?”
“Something like that.”
He opened the cabinet and stared at it.
Standing behind him, she saw the wine bottle, too.
He stood there for the longest time just looking at it.
“Big decision, huh?”
“If you only knew.”
“Do it,” Jessie said.
He pulled the bottle from the shelf. His mind relived the first moment he saw the label. Setting it on the counter, he said, “You pour.”
“Santa Cristina. Must be something special.”
“Or someone,” Jerry said.
“You sure you want to do this?” she asked.
He thought for a moment then sighed. “What is sure in life? What does one know other than the moment they’re in?” He closed the cabinet door. Still holding the knob, he rested his forehead on his arm and closed his eyes. “Can one know their destiny? Is it already planned out?”
“Whoa. You’re going deep on me. This bottle has some meaning, doesn’t it? To answer your questions, but I don’t feel they’re the answers you’re looking for, nothing is for certain, live in the now, I make my destiny, and we all have a choice. You chose to kiss me.”
“I would like to think that I had no choice, that this isn’t real, that I couldn’t resist.”
“I would like to think that, too.”
“So there we have it, we’re an irresistible dream.”
She picked up the bottle. “So how do I get this cork out?”
“You figure it out. I’m going to put the shrimp on the barbie.”
“You’re so full of it with this Down Under accent. I’m putting my boots on now.”
“You’d look cute in boots right now with your red and white striped suit and gold starred waistband. Try on a pair.” He pointed to the snip toe cowboy boots next to his luggage by the door. “You’d look like Wonder Woman.”
“I am Wonder Woman.” Her amorous pout tempted him for more.

Jerry brought in a plate filled with skewers of grill-striped shrimp, veggies, and fruit. “Ewww baby, those boots are totally glam on you! I’ll never look at ’em the same with you kickin’ in ’em. Who-see!”
“What was that? Cattle call? I’ll show you who is bull.” She gave him a hip bump as he passed and wrestled the cork out with a pop. “Hey, I did it! Where are the glasses?”
He stopped mid-step, that last night with Christina flashing in his mind, as he recalled where he had placed them, centered on the dining table between two candlesticks. His eyelids closed.  I’ll be waiting for you.


Jerry tipped the glass back, but it was drained. Jessie straddled his Levi legs. Holding the glass out to her, she poured. The stripes of her top blurred. He closed his eyes to stop the spinning. When he opened them, the stripes were gone. Porcelain breasts with nipples swollen and erect stared at him. She took the wine glass from his hand and drew it to her lips and took a long sip. Penetrating eyes dark with lust stared into his as she leaned forward. A tattoo on her breast— a black spider with a red hourglass on its back, the lobe laced with a fine-lined web, her nipple in its center. She slid her hand to his bulge and deftly released the button. Drawing the zipper down, she exposed that he was freeballing. Jessie’s fingers went to her wetness and moaned into the wine glass. Tipping the glass, the last of the dark scarlet slithered away. She guided his swollenness into her flower.

Next Morning
He stirred and cracked open an eyelid. Sunrays bled through the Venetian blinds. A dull pressure around his eye and temple fogged his mind. He brushed his hand on what should have been a sheet, but it felt cool and smooth like leather. Bleary-eyed, the empty wine glass stood as a pawn of the previous night. The wine bottle—Santa Cristina—its sentry. Eyes now wide open, he sat up and looked around but could not absorb. Plates on the table, empty skewers aside. He closed his eyes and crumpled into the cushion. Smooth milky skin . . . A black spider stepping over pores. He jerked up and blinked several times. The red hourglass! He squinched his eyes to squash the vision.
I’ll be waiting for you.
v v v

Excerpt from PURSUIT – A Matter of Choice, a novel by Jeff Cambridge.

Author of transformational fiction—
Realistic characters in real life drama that tell a story of growth in wisdom and understanding that changes their outlook on life, where achievements are no longer about self or competing. Instead, life is about completing their purpose and planting a legacy of redeeming value.

To read the scenes sequentially, begin with
“PURSUIT: A Novel – Prologue”
Located in the May Blog Archive. Click on the episodes and enjoy.

This episode is pre-published. The book will be available Spring 2018.
Your comments are welcomed and appreciated. Check one of the reaction boxes below, write a comment, or email me at lightbycambridge@gmail.com.

This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, businesses, organizations, and locales are intended only to give the story a sense of reality and authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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One mistake changes the course of three lives…


Jessie – chasing the dark side of destiny

The daughter of an alcoholic father in prison for manslaughter and a mother who has abandoned her for her latest boyfriend, Jessie has but one objective in lifeto find the big ticket out of her miserable childhood.

Christina – striving to bring comfort and light  

The daughter of a nurse who served in the Army medical corps, she follows in her mother’s footsteps, pursuing her passion to care for the disadvantaged. A ballerina – a thousand eyes behold her, the dance flowing seamlessly.

Jerry – living in the grey of his circumstances

The son of a sixth-generation Kansas rancher, his desire is to make it richto find the American Dream. A cowboy with a tender heart and crystal blue eyes, he finds love in unforeseen places.

An allegory of destiny and choices,

of wasted dreams,

of paths that lead to nowhere…

of trials, we face every day.


PURSUIT


Where will the chosen path lead?

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Copyright 2018  © Jeff Cambridge

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