Sebastian Wolff was irresistible to every woman he met. He had but to crook a finger and the woman was his to do with as he desired. Yet there was an aura of evil about him that made his conquests hate his guts. They abhorred Sebastian but could not resist his beck and call. His touch changed their venom to carnal desire. They burned for his caresses, they cried for his brand of love. It was as though the devil inhabited the frame of Sebastian. It took Christine to exercise the evil, to sacrifice her soul so that Sebastian could regain his ... only to lose his life at the hands of his best friend.
CHAPTER ONE
SEBASTIAN WOLFF LIT A CIGARETTE. He let the smoke out slowly through his nose, and looked with half closed eyes through the haze; looked at the woman across the bar.
"I want that woman," he said.
Earl smiled. "You," he said, "want every woman."
"And I just may have every one," Sebastian answered. "With a little luck." His laugh was without humor.
Sebastian was a large man. Broad shoulders and massive forearms; huge hands. He was not good-looking, but his face seemed sculptured from rock. Thin lips, high cheekbones, hard sleepy eyes. A man who looked dangerous.
He was.
They were sitting at a circular bar on West Fourth Street drinking bourbon. Not quite drunk, but with intentions of being so. Alone, but with ideas changing on that too. Perhaps with the woman across the bar.
She could feel Wolff's eyes on her. It made her nervous. She turned away, looked at the bar and out the window. A woman may like a glance of admiration, but this man's eyes burned through her with no recognition of her as a person.
Only as a female animal.
It angered her, and she wished he would stop. And yet those eyes were thrilling.
Earl said, "She's getting nervous. I think she wants you."
"Yes," Sebastian said,. He finished his drink and signalled for two more. "Nice looking bitch. Long torso type."
"I'm a leg man."
"My wants are all consuming."
They drank the bourbon slowly, tasting it. Wolff had determined to approach the woman, but he was in no hurry. And he knew that a little whiskey could make him more effective loss of inhibition and more casualness. Good mood for making an acquaintance.
Earl waited, confident that Wolff would move in when the time was right. He'd seen Wolff want a woman before, and had benefited from it.
Earl Dreggs was a large man also. Taller and thinner than Sebastian, a lean, hard type, handsome. He pulled out his tobacco and started filling a leather covered pipe without paying attention to it. His mind was on other things.
Sebastian put down the last of his shot, and stood up.
"Well," he said, "Wish me luck." He walked slowly around the bar, and up to the woman.
She was aware that he was coming, and dropped her eyes. Wolff could see a touch of color at the cheeks. Pale cheeks. And dark eyes. Nice contrast, he thought. Her hair was long and straight and raven black, her body willowy.
Sebastian Wolff wanted her very much.
"Excuse me," he said, his voice deep and resonant.
She looked up at him and could not hide her interest.
Wolff smiled with his mouth only. Behind the thin lips his teeth were white, and he smiled to show them.
His eyes didn't change from the same intense stare.
He said, "You look so interesting that I would like to talk to you."
"Well, thank you, I..."
"I know I'm being a bit direct, but I didn't want to find some silly excuse when I could be sincere about it." He took the stool next to her, offered her a cigarette, and lit it. Then one for himself.
His eyes never left her.
"Thank you," she said; could think of nothing more, and took a drag on the smoke:
"My name is Sebastian. What is your name?"
"Christine. My friends call me Chris."
"I shall call you Chris."
"If you like."
"I like very much."
She said, "You use such precise English and enunciation. You must be an actor."
Sebastian smiled. "I am always acting. A romanticist in a jaded world."
He signalled the bartender and said, "Bourbon and..." Motioning at Christine's glass. It held a frothy drink.
"Make it two bourbons," she said. "I'd feel silly drinking cocktails with someone."
Wolff said, "You are a very aware chick. I thought so, from looking at you. Glad I'm not being disillusioned."
The drinks came, and they drank. Wolff said, "It's hard to meet someone. If only first meetings could be eliminated, and one could simply know the other person by telepathy or some flash of insight. Save exchanging all the needed, but boring, information."
"Oh, I think first meetings are fun."
"Then you can carry it through. Tell me about yourself."
"Anything?"
"Specifics."
She shrugged. "I'm twenty-two years old. Five foot five. Weigh one twenty. That's the physical part."
"Not quite. But continue. Interests, address? Means of support? Marital status?"
"I'm not married or I wouldn't be-here. I don't suppose."
"One can never tell."
"I live near here. I'm trying to write. Poetry. My father is supporting me for a year. That's my story."
"In digest form. But it's a start. I think I would like to get to know you well."
"Thank you."
"You seem to be the type worth knowing. In sorry that there was no one to introduce us anc make it proper and all that nonsense."
She smiled. "I don't mind being picked up," she said.
"In that case, consider it done. I have a friend over there, shall we have him join us, or would you rather be alone?"
"Have him come over if you like. There's safety in numbers."
"Yes," said Sebastian Wolff.
He motioned to Earl. The other man came over and sat on the opposite side of Christine. Wolff said, "Chris, this is my friend, Earl. Earl my true love, Chris."
Earl said hello. Chris said, "True love? Already?" Her eyes were widened in pretended shock.
"You," said Sebastian, "Have lovely eyes, and true love, of course. I believe in love at first sight. My romantic nature. After one has known a girl for a few days, one can never be sure if it is love or just familiarity."
"Quite a theory. It may be true, at least for romantics."
"Are you a romantic?"
"In my poetry."
"Then you must know by now whether you love me."
"Oh, I do."
"Don't joke about love."
Wide eyes. "I may not be joking. Who knows?"
"A very aware chick," said Sebastian Wolff.
They ordered three more bourbons. Wolff took Chris' hand and she didn't object. She was quite fascinated by him big, strange looking, obviously intelligent. And she was an intelligent girl.
Christine Alexandre had graduated from a good Eastern girls' school, had a fair share of romance, had given her virginity to the boy back home and then left him. She was much too stable to be interested in the typical Greenwich Village type. But Sebastian Wolff was different. His strangeness followed no set patterns of non-conformity, he seemed very mature and yet had a spark which is usually reserved for youth. Some spirit which surrounded his personality.
Christine wanted to know him.
And as he looked into her dark eyes, Sebastian knew this. It made him feel good. All conquests did.
"You have good taste, Sebastian," Earl said. "She is very beautiful."
"Yes. She is that."
"How nice to have two men admiring me," she said.
"But you are to be mine alone." "I'd like that."
She was a little drunk. Not enough to be irrational, but enough to be truthful. Sebastian ordered more bourbon.
They talked and drank for another hour. Light talk, meaningless, discussed poetry a while. Christine was unpublished. Wolff said he knew an agent and would try to get him to handle her work.
"Will you? That would be wonderful."
"Of course. As long as you are my true love."
"What are the requirements?"
"Simply doing as you want to do."
"Well, that sounds easy enough."
"Yes," said Sebastian Wolff.
It was late. The three left the bar and strolled toward Christine's apartment, Sebastian holding her hand. He said, "It is nice to walk holding hands. Reminds me of classic young love in springtime."
"You are a romantic," she said.
"A realist too. Walking with my arm around you reminds me of a drunken sailor in Tangiers."
"We'll just hold hands, then."
"Yes. Just hold hands," he said.
They reached her place. Chris turned to Wolff, expecting to be kissed. He kissed her forehead lightly.
"Look, man," said Earl, "I'll grab a cup of coffee at the corner."
"Yes, do that."
Earl turned on his heel and walked off, whistling The International.
Chris looked up at Sebastian. He raised an eyebrow and grinned.
"I suppose we argue now over whether I ask you in?" she said.
"Not at all. I'd like to come in, of course. But I never argue."
"That leaves it up to me, doesn't it?" "Yes."
"Well, all right. A cup of coffee."
"Can I trust you?" he asked.
"Just coffee. I won't seduce you," Chris said.
"Coffee, yes," said Wolff. "Yes, all of that."
They climbed three flights of stairs in an unlit hall. She led Sebastian by the hand, and he smiled in the dark.
I am so charming, thought Sebastian Wolff.
Wolff sat on the couch while Chris went into the kitchen. He smoked and looked around the room.
It was well furnished and must have cost quite a bit in this location. An oil painting signed by Christine hung on the wall. Not bad, thought Wolff, the girl has many talents. He had not expected even that much at first, picking her up in a bar. No telling where one will discover interesting people these days.
But to Sebastian Wolff any attractive woman was interesting.
Chris was attractive.
And definitely a woman.
She came back into the room, carrying a tray with two cups. Wolff noticed the self-possessed sway of her hips, well-rounded in tight black slacks. And the long taper of her body, tiny waist and full breasts. He felt lucky.
Chris sat down beside him. "How do you want your coffee?" she asked.
"Black."
She handed him one cup, added milk to the other. Wolff watched her over his cup. Very graceful movements.
She crossed the room and put a record on the machine. A Plotnik side. Coming back to sit beside Wolff, she said, "I met Plotnik once. Strange little
"I heard him play in Albany a few years ago," Wolff said.
"Do you like music?"
"Romantic music," Sebastian answered. "Or perhaps I should say, romantic background music."
A smile. Then, "Where are you from?"
Wolff shrugged. "At loose ends right now. Earl and I just got in from Chicago."
"Going to be around here for a while?"
"I'd like to. Now."
"Now?"
"Now that I've met you, of course." "Oh. Thank you." "Shall I?"
"That's hardly up to me." "Would you like me to?"
She thought for a moment. Trying to decide how to answer, Wolff thought. Then she said, "I like you. If you can stay, and want to stay, I'll be glad to see you again."
"That makes me ... happy." Wolff put his arm around her and she didn't object. Neither did she respond. He pulled her gently to him, and kissed her.
"Just coffee," she murmured.
"Yes. I told you that I never argue." He said this in her ear, stroking her neck.
"Sebastian..." she started. He kissed her, cutting the protest off. A long kiss, and she kissed him back, moving her lips on his, at first lightly. Then harder.
He moved away and she was breathing hard, her eyes shut. His hand moved up the slope of her thigh, up her side. He kissed her neck.
"Please ... don't. Don't go ... too far," she said.
His hand was on her breast. It was firm and round and he worked his fingers on her. "I'll stop whenever you say," he whispered.
She nodded, leaning back. He unbuttoned her sweater slowly, and she slid her arms out. Reaching behind her, he undid the brassiere, and her breasts were naked beneath him.
"Nice," breathed Wolff, brushing his lips over them. He worked his mouth on the nipples, and she started breathing harder. Moved under him. Her nipples stiffened and swelled. She took his head in her hands and pressed it to her.
Wolff slid one hand slowly down her stomach, her belly. Opened her slacks at the side. She made no effort to resist.
"Not too far," she said, "Please stop before ... "
Her voice tapered off in a sigh as his hand moved beneath the slacks, under the elastic band of her panties.
He moved his head from nipple to nipple, more frantically, more urgently. With both hands he tugged at the slacks. She started to rise, and then settled back and raised her hips.
The pants slid off.
She kicked them from her feet and Wolff moved his lips down, brushed her stomach and belly. "Take my clothes off," he said.
There was no hesitation how.. Her fingers undid his shirt, pants. He took them off, his lips never leaving her body.
They were naked.
Christine was trembling. Her hands stroked his back, around his sides. Now clinging, now stroking. He moved up, and the length of their bodies was touching. She quivered under him, "Chris..." he said.
"Oh, please. Don't do it."
"Yes," he said.
She shook her head, started to rise. He pressed her back to the couch, moving between her thighs. Up. Her head fell back, eyes closed, mouth open, helpless and yielding.
Wolff came to her, slowly, then harder. She crushed his body to hers, heaving with need. Panting. Then moving with him, against him.
The record neared the end. It grew wilder, more frantic. The pianist was grunting with the effort. The tempo built, held...
Released.
Sebastian Wolff relaxed in fulfillment.
"We'd better get dressed," Christine said. They were lying together on the couch, smoking.
Wolff blew smoke.
"I'm sorry we did that," she said.
"Don't lie," he said, looking at the ceiling.
"I'm not lying. I didn't want to do it."
"But you liked it."
"Yes," she said. "I liked it. You're a beautiful lover."
"Thank you," said Sebastian.
"But you must think I'm quite the whore."
"Yeah. Sure."
"Do you?"
Sebastian rolled over and looked at her; took her head in both hands. There was a long pause, and then he said, "I like you very much."
"Really?"
"I have no reason to lie. I've already had your body, why should I deceive you about how I feel?" "I'm glad," she said.
They got up and dressed. Wolff put another record on. He felt good, relaxed. Chris said, "More coffee?"
"Yes. I don't want to leave."
"Now?"
"I don't want to leave ever. As long as I want you."
She didn't know what to say. This man was different than any Chris had ever known, and she wanted him to stay. But something told her that it would hurt her. No false sense of morals, just a feeling that Sebastian Wolff was dangerous.
"I don't know," she said. "I'd like to have you here, but ... "
"Then I stay," Wolff said. He smiled. "All right," Christine said.
Earl Dreggs was drinking his fourth cup of coffee. It was four o'clock in the morning, and he was bored and tired. I hope Sebastian is having enough fun to make up for this, he thought. He was jealous of Wolff, but he admired him. Dreggs had never been glib enough, nor self confident enough, to score with many women. But when he traveled with Wolff his luck greatly increased. At the moment he was thinking of Christine Alexandre, her pale skin and raven hair, her long graceful body. He was hoping that Wolff would give her to him.-
At four fifteen Sebastian came in. He sat next to Dreggs and offered a cigarette.
"Well?" asked Earl.
Wolff raised his eyebrows.
"Did you score?"
"Of course," He showed his humorless smile. "What about me?"
"Not this trip, Earl," Wolff said. "This is a good bit. The chick has money. And she loves me. If we play this right we'll make out just fine."
"How was she?"
"How was she?"
"Inexperienced. Very good though, that chick gives her all."
"Don't think she'll go for doubles?"
Sebastian drew on his cigarette. Dreggs noticed how really hard his face was, and how deep his eyes. Sebastian said, "She'll go for what I tell her to. I said not yet."
"Okay, Wolff," Dreggs said. "It's your game."
"Yes," said Sebastian Wolff. "It's that all right."
CHAPTER TWO
CHRISTINE ALEXANDRE'S APARTMENT was on Thompson Street. It had only one window and that faced on the alley in back. Fire escapes and tenement windows.
Earl Dreggs stood at the window, looking out. He was smoking and watching the rain which fell against the glass. Dingy alley views in the rain always gave Dreggs butterflies and made him want coffee. How strange that is, he thought.
Sebastian was in the other room, stretched out on the couch. He wore only slacks, and Christine was sitting beside him, playing with the black hair on his chest.
"What an animal you are," she said.
Sebastian grunted.
"I like it," Christine said. "It's comfortable and warm. Better than pajamas."
"You have a filthy mind," Wolff said.
"Put on a record," he said. "Play that Plotnik side. It reminds me of our first evening of love."
Chris put on the record. She came back and sat beside Sebastian again. She thought for a moment, and then said, "Sebastian ... how long will Earl be staying here?"
Wolff grunted.
"He's nice enough, and all. But I would rather live with you alone. I don't like having him around all the while. Wouldn't you rather be alone with me?"
"Yeah. I would. But what the hell can I do? The guy's broke and he's my friend. I can't very well kick him out."
"Well, can't he get any money?"
"I don't know," Wolff said.
He frowned. "I should think you would be happy to have two men to take care of you."
"I only want you," Chris said.
"I've been thinking about giving you to Earl," he said.
Chris looked at Wolff. "I hope," she said, "that you are not serious."
"I was."
"No, Sebastian. I don't want him. Or anyone. You wouldn't want me to make love to another man if you loved me."
"Why? It isn't taking anything away from me. Only if I were afraid you might prefer him, and you wouldn't."
"Well, I don't want him."
"Suppose I say you've got to?"
"Please, Sebastian." There was the beginning of tears in her dark eyes.
"Would you? If I said you had to?" "Please."
Wolff grinned. He said, "Earl, come here."
Dreggs came into the room. Wolff said, "My girl doesn't want you. I said it was all right if you copped, but she said no. Didn't want you to think I was holding out on you."
Dreggs looked at the girl. She had her head down, and he could tell she was ready to cry. He wanted to say that it was all right and that she needn't worry. But he wanted her. He stood and looked and didn't speak.
"Well?" Sebastian asked. "Going to convince her?" "With you here?"
"Why not? It's my girl."
"Please," Chris said. She turned to Earl. "It's not that I don't like you. You're very nice. But I don't want to sleep with everyone. I wouldn't feel right, no matter what you two think of it."
Earl ran his tongue over his lips. They were very dry. He said, That's okay, Chris. I don't care."
Sebastian Wolff laughed.
"Damn it," said Dreggs. He took his coat from the chair where it had been tossed. Putting it on, he could feel Wolff watching him with that halkeyed stare. He crossed the room and went out the door. "I'll see you later," he said.
Wolff's laugh followed him down the stairs.
"I wish you hadn't done that," Christine said. Wolff stroked her hair. "Really, Sebastian. I feel so whorish."
"My innocent little baby," Wolff said. "It's wrong."
"Is it wrong to have me?"
"I love you. It's wrong, maybe, but I don't care."
"Hypocrite," said Wolff. "I would have held your hand while you made it with him."
She pulled away. Wolff swung his feet off the bed and sat up. Chris was crying. He went over to her.
"Goddamn little fool," he said.
She rested her head against his chest. "I love you," she said.
"I love you," he answered, pulling her head up. "And I'm glad you didn't want Earl."
Christine smiled. She wiped the tears from her cheeks, and put both arms around Sebastian. "I'm glad," she said. "I felt so bad about it. I didn't want him."
Sebastian kissed her.
The rain beat at the window on a gray New York night.
Earl Dreggs pulled his collar up against the rain, and walked aimlessly through the streets. He was angry with Wolff, but could not say exactly why. He wished that he had made an effort for Christine, yet felt that he had done the only thing possible. She obviously didn't want him. If only Wolff had gone out, but he had stayed there.
And laughed.
Well, goddamn it, he thought, I just can't figure out Sebastian Wolff. I wonder if he really-likes that girl? Seems to. But you just can't tell with that bastard.
Dreggs was charmed by Christine. Not so much sensually as personally. That morning, looking at her over a cup of coffee, he had thought her the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He liked her as well as wanted her. They had talked about New York and about Boston, where she was from. Bland breakfast conversation, and yet he had thought it interesting. The way she talked.
Later, when Wolff had led her into the bedroom, she had smiled. And Dreggs had listened, although he didn't want to, and heard the bed squeak and heard her little gasps. Heard Sebastian Wolff laugh when it was over.
And snapped his pipe stem in his teeth.
Earl turned into the park and started across, heading for a bar on University Place. He had three dollars left and intended to spend it. After that he didn't know what he would do. But he did not want to return to Christine's.
There was a girl in front of Dreggs, walking a dog. She was wearing a loose raincoat and he could not tell much what she looked like from behind. But the dog was beautiful. A Doberman. Earl walked faster and passed, admiring the animal.
"Earl Dreggs," said the girl.
Startled, he looked at her. And recognized her instantly.
"Hello, Ginny," he said.
"I'll be damned," she said, in a husky voice. "What are you doing in New York?"
"Looking for you," Dreggs told her, stealing a line from Sebastian.
"Great. Let's have a beer, huh? Talk about old times," she said.
"Fine," said Earl.
They walked through the park and down to the bar where Earl had been heading. Everyone gave the dog a wide berth, and this made Earl feel secure for some reason. He was also very happy. A moment before loneliness and despair had filled him, but meeting someone whom he knew changed that completely.
And Ginny was a good looking woman.
She was a dark Latin type with a nice face and a beautiful body, the type that most-likely would be fat at thirty but was perfect at twenty-one. As she walked beside him, Earl watched the outline of her form beneath the loose raincoat; even the coat could not hide her soft fullness. He wished that he had Wolff's confidence, wanting very much to put his arm around her.
But, he thought, there is time.
"Where shall we sit?" Earl asked.
"Anywhere."
"Let's grab a table in back," he said, and they went past the bar. The dog curled contentedly beside Ginny as she sat. Earl sat opposite her. He ordered two beers.
"Beautiful dog," he said. "Is he friendly?"
"Until someone touches me."
"You can't be touched, huh?"
She smiled. "I can put the dog out. When I want."
Earl pursed his lips. "Where do you live?" he asked.
"Near here. I'm working in an office. Boring as hell but it feeds me. You live here too?"
Dreggs shook his head and took a drink. Then he said, "As a matter-of-fact I'm living on a girl's couch right now. Have been for three days. I'm broke."
"Her couch? Really, Earl, have you lost your charm?"
"Sebastian Wolff has the charm."
"Sebastian?" she asked. "Is he here?"
Earl felt himself wince. He hoped that Ginny hadn't noticed his grimace, but he had seen the look in her eyes when she heard Wolff s name. Ginny had known both men two years before in Albany. She had been a college student and Earl had met her first; he liked her very much, and she had liked him. Then Sebastian met her.
"Still feel that way, huh," he said. "What way?" "About Sebastian."
She shrugged. "It's been a long time. I'd forgotten about him, it was just the surprise of hearing his name." She smiled. "You were ... are ... much nicer than Sebastian. I was a fool."
"I thought so. He doesn't matter now. I'm very glad to see you again, Ginny," Earl told her. "I really am very glad."
"And I am glad to see you, too. New York is a lonely place for strangers, and I hope you will be around for a while. Will you?"
"No money. And I can't make the couch scene much longer. I like Wolff, he's a friend, he's done a lot for me. But he can be a bastard."
"Let's forget Wolff for now," Ginny said. "I have forgotten him." She thought, no one forgets Sebastian Wolff. I may hate him, but no one forgets him.
"Fine," said Earl. He finished his beer and went to the bar for two more. Coming back, he sat on the same side as Ginny, close to her. She smiled.
"I can lend you some money," she said.
"No. I can't take money from you." "Just a loan."
"No. I ... do you live alone?" "One roommate. Why?"
"I would like to stay with you. If I could. There doesn't have to be anything between us, just a place to stay."
"If there were nothing, I would feel insulted," she said, smiling. "I wouldn't mind, Earl, but my roommate. Another small town girl."
"Yeah. Silly idea, anyway."
"No. A good idea. Please let me lend you a few dollars. Until you can get a job. No hassle for me."
He didn't answer. She put a hand on his arm, and squeezed. Earl had liked this girl very much, and he realized that he still did. "You can stay tonight, if you like," she told him.
"I would like that. No trouble for you?"
"No, it's fine. Ellen has her boyfriend stay sometimes. He's from upstate, stays when he comes to see her. It's just the permanent arrangement that she might not like."
"Okay," Earl said. "Want another beer?"
"Please," she said.
They spent an hour. Talking. Ginny was getting a little drunk, she clung to Earl's arm and looked up in his face. She said, "Damn it, it is good to see you. I feel I can really talk to you, you understand."
"Yeah, I understand," Earl said. He felt he was the soberest man alive.
"Let's go," Ginny said
"Another bar?"
"Let's go to my place. I've decided you can stay there as long as you like, the hell with Ellen."
"You're drunk."
"Yes. It makes me more truthful. I was a fool in Albany. I don't want to let you go again."
Earl nodded. He followed her out, watching her hips sway. He, too, was sorry that he had lost her two years before. And vaguely angry with Wolff. But it was hard to blame Wolff, really, it was easier to blame Ginny. Wolff hadn't really tried, had just failed to refuse, which was how Sebastian was.
Earl was determined that he would not give Wolff the chance again.
It was two blocks uptown to Ginny's. The rain was coming down harder now, and they hurried behind the dog. Dreggs had his arm around her, his hand clinging to her hip. He thought, how beautiful she is. And she will be mine.
The apartment was a fourth floor walk-up. Ginny went in first and turned on the lights. "Come on in," she said.
Dreggs entered, took off his soaked raincoat. Ginny went to the kitchen and put on coffee. 'My roommate is out," she called. 'And your pants are wet, too."
"But I have nothing else to put on," Earl said, only half poking. Ginny had been quite an innocent girl the first time around.
She laughed.
When she came back into the room she was wearing a robe. Her breasts pressed against the silky material, and it was obvious that her underwear must have been wet too. She handed Earl a cup and sat on the couch, crossing her legs. Earl could see her bare thigh, smooth and tanned. The cup shook slightly in his hand.
"I don't want you catching cold," she said. "It's no fun to have a man in bed and have to doctor him."
"Ginny..." Earl started. She reached out and unfastened his belt, smiling up at him.
"I've grown up, Earl," she said. "And drinking always did make me passionate."
Dreggs stepped out of his pants. He stood in front of Ginny, his excitement evident. He felt embarrassed, but he also felt desire.
Ginny said, "Take the rest off." He hesitated and she reached forward again, sliding his underwear down. He took his shirt off, her eyes never leaving his body, and sat down beside her.
He said, "I've missed you, Ginny."
She leaned over and kissed him, letting the robe fall open. Her breasts pressed against his chest, little points of fire. Earl moved his hand on her thigh, a circular upward motion. Their lips parted, came together again, working savagely upon each other. Her tongue was in his mouth. Ginny took his hand in her own and pressed against herself.
"Touch me ... there," she said.
He moved forward, forcing her back, and followed. His hand moved on her, his lips ground on hers. She was heaving, twisting; her legs encircled Earl's waist, she pushed hard against him.
"Now," she said, "now!"
Earl thrust himself to her and she met him violently, again and again.
"Faster, faster," she breathed. Her legs scissored his body, pulling him to her, pushing him back.
Faster and faster Earl moved, panting, blinded by a passion which rocked the room and carry them to a tremor which seemed to rock the world. And brought it down with an earthquake. And a sigh.
"Baby," said Ginny, lying on her stomach and resting her head on her arms, "you are wonderful."
Earl was dressing. He smiled at her, naked on the bed.
"I don't ever want you to go away. Stay right here in bed."
"Nice thought," he said. "Tempting. You are so very beautiful." He crossed over and kissed her; slapped her bare bottom.
"I'll get my suitcase from Chris' and come back."
"Yes, come right back. I can't wait long."
"At this rate, I don't know how long I can keep you happy," Earl said, pursing his lips.
"You'll keep me happy, all right,"-Ginny said. "You're the first man I've had since Sebastian, that's the truth. And you'll be the last. But I want you all the time. Ten times a day."
"Ten? When will I have time to earn our living?"
"You're earning it, right here."
"We've got to eat," he said.
"That too," she said.
This Dreggs thought, is not the girl I once knew.
But she is beautiful and she loves me, and I will be happy with her. But I wonder if she is the product of knowing Sebastian Wolff?
He kissed her once more, and left.
Dreggs walked to Christine's. It was early morning, and the rain had stopped during the night. But the sky was still clouded, and the streets were wet. Even his cigarette smoke hung damply around him.
He wondered what Wolff would say. Would he be interested, even? Or would he laugh at Earl for taking his cast-off? Better that than a desire to see Ginny again. But he knew well that to Sebastian Wolff, another man's woman was the most desirable of all. He considered not mentioning her at all, but thought how silly, I am a man too, why do I have this childish dread of Sebastian? And Ginny does not want him, I'm sure of that. He treated her too badly.
When he got there, Wolff was reading the morning paper. Earl said, "Hello."
"Well," said Wolff, "the prodigal son. I trust you didn't fall into evil ways last night. I don't like you to be sinful."
"Coffee?" Christine asked. She was very cheerful. Glad I was gone, thought Dreggs. He sat next to Wolff.
"I met an old friend of ours," he said. "Oh."
"Ginny. From Albany."
"Well, damn. She living here?"
"Yes. I stayed with her. She wants me to move in, and I'm going to. Give you and Chris a little privacy."
"Still as good as ever?"
"What?"
"In bed."
Earl took a swig of coffee. "I don't know. She's changed. I like, her."
"What's she doing?"
"Working."
"Ginny," said Wolff, "always did work." Earl shrugged.
"Give me the address, in case I want to get in touch with you," Wolff said. Dreggs wrote it out, not wanting to but not knowing how to refuse. He handed it to Wolff, who put it in his pocket without a glance.
"I like her, Sebastian," Earl said.
Wolff was reading the newspaper.
Earl got his suitcase and his shaving gear. Chris said, "We'll see you, Earl. Bring your girl over sometime."
"Yes, do that," said Wolff.
"Yes, goodbye," Dreggs said, and left. He was going down the stairs when Wolff came after him.
"Earl, I'm getting bored here. Thinking about making Florida."
"With Chris?"
A tolerant smile. "Earl," said Sebastian, "there are girls in Florida."
"She's a nice girl."
"Well, yes. Are you coming with me?" "I don't know. Ginny...." "Are you serious about her?" 'I think so."
Wolff laughed. He said, "Well, I'll let you know when I'm leaving. If the thrill has worn off, you can come."
Earl nodded. He turned and continued down the stairs. Sebastian went back up, whistling My Old Flame.
What a bastard Sebastian Wolff is, thought Dreggs. All the way back to Ginny's he thought it.
Christine said, "Who was Ginny?"
"A former love," Wolff told her.
"Did you like her better than me?"
"I never liked anyone better than you," Sebastian said. "I may even marry you."
"I don't want to get married. Not yet."
"If I said we would, you know we would. You can't resist me, and want nothing more than having me. Now don't deny the obvious."
"I suppose you are right," Chris said. "But don't be too sure." She thought, he is so right, I would marry him today. But I doubt that it would work out, it would probably ruin my life and he would leave me soon enough. With a baby, most-likely. Responsibility would scare Sebastian, I think. But still I would marry him.
"Am I better in bed?" she asked.
"Hum-m-m?" He was reading.
"Than Ginny? Am I?"
"I suppose so. You're a bit too thin though, she's got weight on you."
"Well, I hope Earl keeps her happy. I don't want her after you."
"Baby," said Sebastian, "I am so faithful to you. So very faithful. I want no other women at all."
"Do you mean that? Or are you just laughing at me when you say it?" she asked. "I don't want you to laugh at me."
"I want no other women," he said.
"I hope not, said Chris, "You could really hang me up, Sebastian. You could bolix me up."
Wolff folded the paper. He frowned at Chris and she looked at his eyes, a questioning look. She wanted to know just what he thought, but knew that he wouldn't say. He had never been definite.
But he felt sorry for her then, just for a second and just a little, because her eyes were so dark and her skin was so white and she looked so young. That is why he felt sorry, and he said, "Chris, I like you. Watch yourself, will you? Don't get hurt."
She said, "Do you mean ... is it just something that will end? I mean us, this thing with us?"
He shrugged.
"I want to know. Please, what should I do? I'll do anything for you!"
"Just keep it light," said Sebastian Wolff.
CHAPTER THREE
GINNY WAS RESTLESS.
She was walking her dog through the park to kill time, but it bored her. She didn't like New York, she didn't like the people there. She hated her job and she didn't like her roommate, Ellen.
The only bright spot of the past year had been Earl Dreggs.
And yet, although he'd only lived with her for a week, already the thrill was beginning to wear off. He was nice to her, certainly. Perhaps, she thought, too nice. He was handsome, but not interesting. It was very strange, the way she felt. At first she had even been jealous of Ellen. Now, she realized with some surprise, she wouldn't care much if she found them in bed together. She might even think it humorous, after Ellen's protests about Earl moving in.
I guess it must be true about women being masochists, she told herself. Earl treats me so well, yet I don't love him. The only man I ever loved treated me like dirt. Laughed at me and left me.
Sebastian Wolff.
How she hated him. Just thinking of him had made her burn with hatred. She still retained a perfect picture of him as he left that final day. She was on the bed without clothes, and he stood in the doorway with that damnable grin of his. She was crying, and asked him to come back.
He said, "Well, Baby, it's been nice." And laughed.
She would have killed him then, if she had a gun. But even then, yes then most of all, she loved him.
She wandered aimlessly along, letting the dog lead her, hardly noticing the passing crowd of people. It was Saturday afternoon and the streets were jammed. Nearly everyone glanced at either Ginny or the Doberman, with admiration for both. But she didn't care.
She was thinking of Sebastian.
She wanted to see him, to see if she still felt the same thrill when he stood near her, touched her. And yet she dreaded seeing him for fear that it would be so, that she would be hurt again. The reason she had wanted Earl, Ginny decided, was that he was grouped in her recollections along with Sebastian. That was why she had virtually seduced him, hoping to find what she once had with Wolff. But it had not worked. And now she was living with a man whom she liked, did not want to hurt, but did not love.
And she was pretty sure that Dreggs loved her.
It put her in a spot. She did not want to sleep with any man but Sebastian, and she swore to herself that she would never let him touch her again. But what could she tell Earl? How could she let him know that she did not love him, that for one brief evening she had seen Sebastian Wolff in him and had made love to the image?
Ginny shook her head sadly and walked on, heading for home.
Earl was out looking for a job. He refused to live off her, decided that he would work and get a place of his own, that Ginny would come with him. He even mentioned marriage.
Ellen was away too. The thought of being alone, away from all these people appealed to her. She thought perhaps she would bar the door, when Earl returned she could pretend that she was out. Having decided to do this, she hurried to get home before him.
She saw the man from a block away, sitting on the steps of her apartment building. He wore a camel colored sweater and was smoking. Something about him was familiar, perhaps the relaxed way he sat. Yes, that was it, only one man could be that relaxed on stone steps. Ginny considered turning around, knew that she should, but her pace never slackened. Perhaps it increased a little.
Her heart did.
She stopped at the foot of the stairs. There was nothing she could say, she just looked at him. And he smiled.
Damn your white teeth! she thought.
"Ginny," said Sebastian Wolff. "Hello."
His voice was deep. It seemed to echo within her, in the caverns of her body, setting her very being vibrating in tune with him. He conducted her, like an orchestra.
"Hello, Sebastian," she said. Ignore him, curse him, spit on him. Damn him! she told herself. Don't speak to him, brush by him. But she said, "Hello," and waited, looking up at him.
The dog growled and stepped toward him.
"Recognizes the devil," Wolff said. "It's good to see you, Ginny. "How have you been?"
"Fine."
"Earl gave me your address."
The fool, she thought. Didn't he know? Didn't he really know?
"What do you want?" she asked.
"You."
"No, Sebastian. That's all over now, that was long ago. I suffered too much through you."
He stood up and stepped toward her. The dog snarled and moved back a step. Sebastian took one more step.
"He'll attack you," Ginny said.
"I'll kill him," said Sebastian Wolff, evenly, "if I must."
For a moment she hesitated. And then her last hope was gone. She knew what was happening, and was powerless to prevent it. She said, "Wait, I'll take him up."
Wolff nodded.
Ginny went up the stairs slowly, the dog trying to turn around. Dogs recognize evil, she thought. Sebastian followed behind, his heels clicking on the stairs.
Ginny opened her door and went in; put the Doberman in the other room and locked the door. Turning, she saw Sebastian standing in the doorway, leaning against it. He was lighting a cigarette, eyes squinting in the smoke, his body angled across the frame. She thought, he should have been an artist with that sense of design.
"Let's talk outside," she said.
Wolff stepped in, shutting the door. He said, 'You don't really want to go back out, do you?"
"Earl will be home soon," Ginny said. "I don't want him to think that we..."
"That we what?"
"Sebastian, he loves me. I don't want to hurt him." "Then you'd better lock the door." She crossed over and bolted it. When she turned, Sebastian kissed her, very lightly, on the forehead. "Still love me?" he asked.
"I hate you," Ginny told him. "I hate you more than anyone in the world, and I wish you were dead."
"Yes, of course," he said. "But do you love me?"
"Yes," she said.
Sebastian laughed. Ginny stood in front of him, eyes closed, hands clenched at her sides. She was helpless, hypnotized. Her swelling breasts rose with accelerated breathing.
"You're trembling," Wolff said. He turned and crossed to the chair by the window; sat down. He pulled the shade back and looked out at the street, blowing smoke.
"Nice view," he said.
"For God's sake, Sebastian. What do you want?"
"You. I told you. But there's no hurry, it's better to delay. Build up to a climax."
"Earl will be back."
"I don't care about Earl."
"I don't want him hurt."
"Then tell me to leave. If you love Earl, then tell me to get out."
"And will you go?"
"Yes, I'll go. Shall I?"
"I despise you. You are the devil on earth, Sebastian," Ginny said, her lips trembling.
"Yes, I'm that. But shall I go?"
"No," said Ginny. Her eyes dropped to the floor. Her insides were liquid, threatening to flow out of her, killing her.
"Come here," said Wolff.
She walked over to him.
"Look at me."
She did. She knew that she would do anything he said. She hated him, and she would die for him.
"Say you love me," Sebastian said.
"I love you," Ginny said. "I love you Sebastian. I love you. I hate you. I love you and god, I hate you. Please. I want you."
She dropped to her knees beside him, burying her head in his lap. He took her head in his hands, his large, rough hands stroked her hair. His fingers ran along the curve of her neck. Just his touch was fire on her skin. She dug her nails into his hands, wanting to hurt him, to love him.
"Oh, God. Sebastian. Take me, do what you want. I love you. Don't leave me ever. I love you."
He unbuttoned her dress at the back, slowly. Ginny tore it off, threw herself on him; ripped at his clothes. "Please," she gasped, "Please, now, don't wait. Right here on the floor."
Sebastian Wolff laughed. Just a little. Then he moved from the chair to Ginny. She lay back while he removed the rest of her clothes. She was afraid to look at him.
"You still have a lovely body, Ginny," he said, moving back to take his own clothes off. "A very lovely body."
"It belongs to you. All of it. Please," she said.
"Yes," said Sebastian. "It does at that."
Earl Dreggs had found a job as a clerk in a bookstore. He was rather happy about it; the word clerk sounded terrible, but bookstore was nice. Especially in Greenwich Village.
He stopped in a liquor store next to the bookstore and bought a bottle of good Rhine wine. "My anniversary," he told the man. Then he walked home through brisk autumn weather. Looking at the steel sky, he thought that soon it would snow.
As he passed he looked in the window, saw Sebastian Wolff. Wolff turned into a bar and did not see him; and Earl did not want to see Wolff. He was too anxious to get home. He stopped until Wolff had disappeared, then hurried by.
As he passed he looked in the window, saw Eebastian sitting at the bar. There was a red flower tucked behind his ear. Strange, thought Earl, a rose behind his ear. What a strange guy Sebastian is.
Well, the hell with the eccentricities of Sebastian Wolff, he thought, I have more important things to think about. And do. I believe I have made my last trip with Wolff.
He turned in at the apartment and went up. The door was unlocked, and he went in. Ginny was not in the front room. He crossed to the kitchen, heard the dog scratching at the door and whining. Where is she? he wondered, moving to the bedroom.
The room was dark. He could barely see Ginny on the bed. He went over to her, holding out the bottle of wine. "Celebration?" he asked. She did not answer.
Earl snapped on the light. Ginny was stretched out on her back, completely naked. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing regularly. But her face was streaked with tears, and her body was wet with sweat. He knew that something was wrong.
"Ginny," he said.
She stirred. "Sebastian," she murmured.
Earl turned the light out. He stood there for a second, then left the room. He stood in the front room, listening to the dog scratching on the door. And looking at the table.
On the table was a vase with flowers which he had bought for Ginny. A dozen roses. Eleven now.
And one broken stem.
Earl left, snapping the lock on the door, and walked toward the bar where he had seen Sebastian. He wanted to feel angry, to feel like killing, but he really felt like getting drunk. Even getting drunk with Wolff. What is there about the man, he asked himself? It's as though Wolff isn't real, he's a symbol to me. Why? He thought that he would force himself to hit Wolff, at least to slap him. To throw a beer in his face. He could force that action and then he would have to fight, if he knew Wolff's temper. And knowing Wolff's temper, he thought, I haven't a chance against him. And yet it's not that, I'm not afraid. I just feel no emotion.
He came to the bar. Sebastian still sat there, drinking a beer. The flower was on the bar in front of him, and as Earl watched he raised it to his nose and smelled it.
Earl turned and walked on down the street, cursing himself.
There is only one way to avenge myself on Wolff, he told himself. And even as he thought it he knew that revenge wasn't what he wanted but rather to forget Ginny lying naked on the bed, to forget the broken flower and the mental picture of Sebastian in bed with her, of Ginny trembling with the same desire he had seen in her so often, perhaps even more desire with Wolff than with himself. The picture of Wolff rolling over for a cigarette, flashing those white teeth in satisfaction, beside Ginny's spent naked body.
"Oh, God," he said, "what a fool I am."
He walked to Christine's, his eyes burning.
She was home, writing. She said, "Hi, Earl. Sebastian isn't here. Come on in, he should be home soon."
He stepped in. As she turned he grasped her in both arms and pulled her to him, kissing her. When he let her go, he was panting and wide-eyed. She stepped back calmly.
"That was stupid Earl," she said. There was no fear in her voice, not even much disgust.
"Oh, hell," he said, "I can't even rape a woman."
"What is the matter with you?" Chris asked. He was white and wild-eyed, breathing hard. He looked ready to cry.
"Chris ... that goddam Sebastian ... he was at Ginny's. Made love to her."
'Are you sure?" she asked.
He nodded.
"I'm sorry," she said. "For both of us."
Earl crossed the room, sat on the edge of a table. He was more under control now, and lit a cigarette. Christine went over to him and took him hand.
"I'm really sorry. You loved her?"
"I thought so. Probably not. It's just that. . . seeing her," he broke off, thought for a moment, drew on the cigarette.
"Chris," he said, "I want to sleep with you. I really think I should. I mean, I have to ... do you see why? It's him, Wolff. I have to take something of his."
Chris shook her head. "Earl," she said, "I can understand how you feel, but that won't do any good."
"I think it will," he said. "Chris, let me sleep with you. I want Wolff to come home and see you naked, satisfied. I want to laugh."
"Earl ... don't you see. Sebastian would laugh too," Chris said. "He would laugh and it would destroy both of us."
Earl put one hand to his head. He said, "I'm sorry, Chris, I shouldn't have come here. I felt ... as if ... I don't know. She was a whore, anyway. Why blame Sebastian."
"I love Sebastian," Chris said. "He can do what he wants, I'll always love him."
Dreggs left. He stood in the street for a moment, then headed back to Ginny's. He hoped that she would still be naked on the bed, still wet from love. He wanted to force himself between those wet thighs while she was still asleep, to beat savagely against her.
He no longer loved her, if he ever had. He hated her, if there were any feeling. But he also felt a fierce desire for her, a desire stemming not so much from himself as from the image he had created of Sebastian making love to her. He wanted to take her and pretend that he was Sebastian. To watch from a distance as though it were two other people.
He didn't want it to be something lovely, beautiful. He wanted it to be sinful, degrading, degenerate. He wanted to do every imaginable thing to her voluptuous body, to defile it in every way he could think of. And then to laugh.
As Sebastian Wolff would laugh.
As he was sure that Sebastian Wolff had laughed.
He reached the apartment and started up the stairs, his emotions a turmoil of strange sensations. He tried the door and found it unlocked again; went in.
Ginny was standing there. She had a robe on now, but her face was. white as snow. She said, "Oh ... Earl. I thought it was Sebastian."
"Yes, I know. I was here before." Seeing her, all his intentions vanished. He felt no lust, only sadness.
"He had me, Earl. I gave myself to him." He didn't answer.
"I'm sorry. Earl, I like you. But he is a magnet, he has me hypnotized. I'll do whatever he says, always. I'm sorry, I wanted to tell you myself, before you found out."
"I wish you had," Dreggs said. He felt limp now. Tired.
"There's nothing more to say," Ginny told him.
"Will he come to see you again?"
"Oh God, I don't know. I hope so, but I don't know. Earl, I want nothing on earth but Sebastian Wolff."
Earl nodded. He went to the closet and started gathering his clothes. Then to the bathroom for his shaving equipment. Ginny watched him with no trace of feeling. She seemed drugged.
He had all his gear packed. He went to the door, meaning to leave without any words. It all seemed so anti-climactic, and somehow unreal. He almost enjoyed this feeling of being empty.
"Goodbye, Earl," Ginny said.
Her voice was low, and normal. It broke the spell. Earl put his suitcase down and went over to her. He kissed her on the mouth, and she did not resist. Nor did she respond.
"Is it goodbye?" he asked her.
She still made no response. She was standing before him, as if in another world. In a world of her own, in which there was no place for Earl Dreggs. A very sad world where Ginny knew she would never be happy, and yet the only world in which she wanted to live.
The realization of this came to Dreggs, he knew the absolute uselessness of further words. And yet there was some need in him to say more. Just one last chance, predestined to failure and caused by some masochism in his nature; a useless attempt which could only increase his suffering.
He said, "Ask me to stay, Ginny. Ask me to forgive you, and I will. I love you."
She shook her head.
He wanted to hit her. In that pale, sad face. Wanted to leave in a storm of emotion, hatred even. But here was not even that. Very slowly he went out and closed the door. He stood for a moment with not a thought in his mind, completely blank. Then he left.
Sebastian had left the bar. Earl sat and drank fast, wanting to fill this void with something. But of course, it did not work.
A little later it started to snow.
CHAPTER FOUR
SEBASTIAN WOLFF RAISED HIS EYEBROWS. "I hear you had a busy day,"' Christine repeated.
"Oh. Well yes, it was that," he said. "How did you know?"
"Earl was here. He knows too. Sebastian, he felt pretty bad. He really did, I was sorry for him."
"Did you let him cop?" He seemed genuinely interested.
"No, of course not. Sebastian, I don't care. If you had another woman, all right, you came back to me. That's what counts. But why Earl's girl? He is your friend, or was."
"Why not Earl's girl? He's a grown man in a grown-up world. If he can't hold her, then he'd better find out soon."
Chris shook her head. "You're a strange man," she said. "I hope she wasn't too good. I don't want to lose you."
"No worry there. I did it for you. Sort of." He grinned. "I don't want to hurt you, Chris. I thought I'd better establish a precedent before we go much farther."
"Nice reasoning," she said. "A lie, of course, but at least it's an effort."
He kissed her, and she didn't resist. She said, "Will you do it very often? Be unfaithful, I mean."
"Oh. Probably. Once a week maybe. But just once with each conquest, don't worry about serious competition. I like you very much. More, I think, than any other woman I have ever known before."
"That must be quite a bit," she said.
"Yes. It's that."
Sebastian went into the bathroom. Chris heard the shower running, and heard his voice singing "The Other Woman", off key. He is so unserious about what he does, she thought, it is hard to be angry about it. She felt very little anger with Sebastian. Had any other man she had ever known treated her this way, Christine would have ended everything between them. With Wolff she was happy just to have him return, sad only to think that some day he might not.
Presently Wolff emerged from the bath, wearing a bathrobe and shaking her damp hair. He asked, "Is your father rich?"
Chris was surprised. "He has money," she answered. "Yes, I supposed he could be rich."
"Would you get a dowry?"
"If you are proposing," she said, "it's a damn poor way to go about it."
"I guess it is. But don't be unreasonable. After all, I have you now, there's nothing to gain by marriage, if not money. Is there?"
"I suppose not. But you're so logical about it. I'm enough of a poetess to want a church wedding with flowers."
He smiled. "You might get that. Shall we go see your daddy?"
"Are you going to ask him how much he'll give you to take me away from the family? He'd just love you for that."
"Oh, I'll be subtle about it."
Chris paused. "You aren't serious, are you?"
"Why not?"
"You really want to marry me?" "Sure. I love you."
"I just don't know," she said. "I don't really think you mean it. I can't conceive of your being married."
"I'd be the same man," he said, "perhaps a little worse. I'd beat you and be unfaithful to your regularly. But if you want to get married, let's do it."
She was silent. She thought, I want to be his wife. I don't care how he treats me, as long as he doesn't leave me. And he can't just be marrying me for the money, no one could be that honest about it. I will probably be very unhappy with him, but I'm sure I'd be more unhappy without him. And he may never offer again.
"Well?" he asked.
"I'll marry you Sebastian," she said. The words made her feel good. Wonderful. She threw her arms around his neck and said, "Yes, Mr. Wolff, I want very much to be Mrs. Wolff. Yes, yes, yes. Right away, let's get married as soon as we can."
"Well all right. Where is your father?"
"Boston. Let's get married first. I don't want to see him until we are already married. I know he won't like you."
"What about money? I love you, Baby, but there are other things that one must think of as well. like money."
"He'll give us money after. Probably more than if he met you first and didn't like you. I'm sure of it. Tell me you love me."
"I love you."
"Tell me you love only me."
"Some things," said Sebastian, patting her on the bottom, "can be carried too far."
"Can I wear a white gown?" "Are you a virgin?"
"No," she said, kissing him. Sebastian pushed her away.
"Make dinner," he said, "Love later."
Christine went to the kitchen. Wolff could hear her moving around, and humming. He stretched out on the couch, one arm over his eyes, smoking. He wondered what had made him suggest marriage. There had been no plan to, he had not even thought of it. Then, suddenly, it just seemed to come out. Perhaps he loved her. He rather hoped so, but not too much, of course. It was loving too much that got people hurt.
Sebastian knew about that.
But this was the first time that he had ever considered marriage, and he figured it must mean that he loved her. Good. Getting married was one thing he had never done, and it ought to prove interesting. Yes, he thought, I will go through with it.
Chris set the table with candles. Very romantic, and she seemed so happy. She laughed and talked, and couldn't seem to sit still. She talked about first homes, and wedding parties, and wedding nights, about children.
"I'll make you so very happy," she said. "You'll never need another woman, I'll be so good to you ... for you."
Wolff thought, a strange day it will be when I don't want another woman. But Chris is good, if I had to choose one woman for the rest of my life, I think it might be she. Yes, it just might be she.
He said, "We'll need some money to get married."
"I have some in the bank. In Boston. We can use that for the wedding and honeymoon. And I'm sure Daddy will come through afterward. He has lots of money, and I'm an only daughter."
I must sell my freedom dearly, thought Wolff. No, never sell it, just lend it perhaps.
"I want to tell someone," Chris said. "I wish I had some friends here in New York. I'm so happy."
"I think I'll look for Earl," Wolff said. "I'll ask him to be the best man."
"Do yon think he will? After today, I mean."
"He will. Earl-likes me."
"He liked the girl too."
"Well, yes. I guess so. Both times," Wolff said. He rubbed his jaw, and said, "He just can't seem to learn."
Christine was doing the dishes when Wolff left. He did not know where Earl was, but he figured on trying Ginny's. Dreggs was the type who might have gone crawling back.
He walked rapidly, through the first snow of the year, watching the flakes land, linger, and melt away; watching his breath hang white on the air. It made his think of Christmas, and he said maybe this year I'll have a wife to decorate a Christmas tree. And a father-in-law to stuff presents under it. That would be nice.
He whistled notes which hung on the still air.
Sebastian knocked on Ginny's door. He heard movements within, and then it was opened. Ginny stood there.
"Hi, he said. "Is Earl here?"
"Come in," she said, standing back. Wolff entered, and Ginny shut the door. "I didn't think you'd come back," she said.
"Just looking for Earl. Isn't he here?"
"No. He's gone. He won't be back again. You can come whenever you like, Sebastian."
"That," he said tongue in cheek, "would be nice."
Ginny put her arm around him, and raised her face.
"I can't stay," he said, starting to pull away. "You've got to. I need you."
Well, Sebastian thought, I'm not really in the mood. But this may well be my last fling before getting married. It won't do any harm, I guess. Ginny has such a fine body.
He let her lead him into the bedroom. She started undressing, fumbling nervously with her clothes.
"Can't we chat for a while first?" he asked. "This seems so professional. Let's go slow."
She looked at him. Viciously. "I don't want to talk to you," she said, "I hate you."
"Well, I'll be damned," Sebastian said.
He removed his clothes, watching Ginny. She was naked now, standing before him, staring with a strange mixture of hatred and desire in her eyes. When he finished undressing, she stepped forward.
Her firm, rounded body was irresistible, and Sebastian reached out; pulled her to him.
His hands moved on her breasts, a circular motion that ended at the pink nipples. He rubbed them, massaged them, his hands driving Ginny wild with want. Her arms started moving, stroking his sides, down his flanks.
Sebastian bent, his lips working on her nipples, from one to the other, and she trembled; caressed his loins, arousing him with her touch. He dug his fingers into her buttocks, his passion matching hers now.
Ginny stepped back, sinking to a sitting position on the bed. Sebastian stepped close.
She spoke in a whisper, "When I get through, you're going to want me as much as I want you, Sebastian. I'm going to make you need me, I'm going to give you everything that a man could want."
Her hands grasped his buttocks, pulling his loins forward. Sebastian arched backwards. Leg muscles tense, moving his hips slightly. He was in ecstasy as she brought him closer and closer to the height of feeling. A tingle began within him, built up, became a thrill. He drove his loins against her, heaving in uncontrolled need.
Sebastian shut his eyes then.
And rocked dizzily in that moment of bliss.
He stepped back, spent. Ginny fell backwards to the bed, her knees up, one arm reaching for him. "Come," she said, "Are you still as good as I remember? I hope so, because I've just begun on you."
Sebastian Wolff was good.
For hours.
Sebastian put on his coat. He felt completely empty, and very, very satisfied. He looked across the room at Ginny.
She was still naked, stretched out on the bed almost in a trance. Her magnificent body glistened with sweat. She had given every last ounce of her energies to Sebastian, every bit of her passion.
"Ginny," he said, not knowing if she had heard him or not, "You were very good, very good to me." He turned and left, his legs feeling very unsteady under him.
It was late. The snow had stopped falling and it was colder. Wolff pulled his jacket collar up, thinking that he would very soon need an overcoat. Better meet Christine's father before it gets much colder, he decided. Or else Chris'll have to buy me one herself, and I don't think she gets too much money to live on. It's hard depending on a chick who has no money of her own; no telling when her old man will cut her off. If she could sell a poem or two it might help.
Thinking about that, Wolff remembered an agent whom he had met several years back. A woman. She probably could get something of Chris' in print, it didn't matter how much it paid. Just something to show the old man, something for her mother to gossip about. He decided to call her and stopped at a phone booth.
It took several minutes to remember her name, several more to find her home phone listed. He dialed and waited while it rang twice. Then a female voice answered.
"Hello," he said, "Cynthia?"
"Yes, who is this?"
"Sebastian Wolff. You remember me."
There was a moment's silence. Wolff could hear the woman breathing on the other end of the wire. He waited.
"Yes," she said. "I remember you. You're late."
Wolff wrinkled his brow, not understanding. Then in a flash, he remembered. He had met Cynthia at a party, made love to her in the bedroom under a pile of coats, with people coming in and out and not seeing them. It had been a rather proper party, and the danger of discovery had lent spice to the act. And he had arranged to meet her the next day. But he had forgotten, or neglected.
That had been two years before.
"Better late than never," he said laughing.
"I'm not at all sure of that," she answered. But two years was too long a time to retain the anger she had felt when it happened. She was rather glad to hear from Wolff.
He said, "I'd like to see you. Could I drop in at your home?"
"No, my husband will be back soon. How about my office? Tomorrow? It's more private for these business deals." She gave him the address and he wrote it on a matchbook.
"Oh, as far as business goes. I do have a couple of things ... poems ... that I'd like you to handle. For a friend."
She laughed. "We'll talk about that when I feel satisfied with the other business. I've got two years' worth of work which I want out of you, Sebastian Wolff."
"Yes," he said. "Tomorrow." Wolff was too exhausted from Ginny to feel much desire, but Cynthia was nice. He knew that tomorrow would be a new day, and he looked forward to it. I mustn't forget Chris' stuff, he told himself. After all, that is why I'm going.
He left the phone booth and started home.
On the way he passed by the bar where he had spent several hours earlier in the day. As he looked in Wolff's jaw tightened. He paused for a moment, then went through the door, moving fast.
When he moved fast, Sebastian moved like a cat. A jungle cat.
On a kill.
Earl Dreggs had drunk steadily all evening. He was not normally a heavy drinker, and his capacity this night would have surprised him had anyone been counting the bourbon he downed. But no one had, and Dreggs himself was in no condition to remember.
His head was spinning, but strangely he felt no nausea, and he had the sensation of reaching a norm of capacity at which he could stay indefinitely. He finished his drink and said "Another."
The bartender looked at him closely, satisfied that Earl was still sober enough, he filled the glass. He emptied the untouched chaser, and refilled the glass with fresh water. There's a drinker, he thought with admiration.
Dreggs started working the new shot down. The only thought bothering him now was where he was going to go when the bar closed. He was nearly through his, or rather Ginny's money. He couldn't re-aim there, and he wouldn't go back to Christine's. He wished he had taken all of Ginny's money. She had offered it to him that morning; that was before Wolff had seen her. Earl had refused it, saying he had enough. He regretted that now.
A voice spoke behind him, and he became aware that his name was being used. Slowly he turned around on the stool.
"Hi, Earl. Where's Ginny?"
Earl recognized Ellen, Ginny's roommate. A pretty although rather plain girl, thin with big eyes. Pleasant and stupid. She was with her upstate boyfriend, a hulking football type.
Earl said, "Ginny is a whore."
"What's the matter?" Ellen asked.
"Nothing," he said, "is the matter. She is just a whore. That's all, why should anything be wrong?"
"C'mon, Hon," said the hulk, "Let's get a seat." "Just a moment, Tom," Ellen said. "What happened, Earl?" She felt a strange curiosity about the thing. She had wondered about Ginny ever since Dreggs had started sleeping there, and wanted to know what had brought this change in Earl. That morning they had seemed very much in love; although Ellen didn't like Earl staying at the apartment, she liked him personally and thought he was very nice. If there had been trouble between him and Ginny, she imagined that it was Ginny's fault.
Dreggs shrugged. He took a drink and when Ellen didn't leave, he said, "She's been sleeping with another guy. With my best friend. That should only happen in songs."
"Are you sure?"
"Goddamn sure. Ask the slut, she'll tell you. Proud of it, the dirty bitch."
"Watch your language. There's a girl here," said Tom.
Earl swung his eyes to the man. Tall, as tall as Dreggs and heavy. Must weigh two-twenty, Earl thought, not much caring. He said, "What a brilliant goddamn statement that was. That was original, all right. That was a goddamn jewel. You damn fool!"
"Watch your mouth. Let's go, Ellen. I don't want you associating with these crumbs. I don't know why you have to live in New York anyway, and how you meet guys like this." Tom started leading Ellen away.
Dreggs said, "I won't be sleeping at your place tonight."
Tom looked from Earl to Ellen. "What is this?" he asked.
Ellen said, "Earl, shut up. It's nothing, Tom. He's drunk. He just stayed with Ginny one night, that's all."
"Hah!" said Dreggs.
"I don't like liars," Tom said. "You didn't stay at Ellen's and I know it. Now you shut up."
"I not only stayed there," Dreggs said, "I slept with Ginny and made love to her every night, and I saw Ellen looking at me a few times like she wouldn't mind joining in. What about that, hey?"
Ellen flushed. She grabbed Tom's arm as he started toward Dreggs. "He's drunk. Don't pay any attention," she said. She pulled Tom toward the tables, while Dreggs stared.
"If he doesn't shut up, I'll kill him!" Tom said in a loud voice. Earl wasn't shaken in the least.
He turned back to Iris drink, bolted it down and ordered another. The bartender said, "No trouble in here, okay?"
"Never any trouble," said Earl.
He watched the couple at the table, thinking how nice it would be to go home with Ellen. It might make Ginny jealous, and it would certainly be a place to stay. That was more important. Then he thought of how Ginny might laugh. Got him on the rebound, she would say. And comparing Ellen's tall, slight figure to Ginny's soft curves was ridiculous. Yes, going home with Ellen would be a farce.
But still a place to stay. And in the night, when Wolff wasn't there, Ginny ... yes, even if she pre-, tended that Earl was Wolff, her body was still worth it.
Tom was talking in a loud voice. Arguing. Ellen looked as though she were angry herself now. Earl waited until Tom got up and went to the men's room.
As he walked to the table his legs were very unsteady, and he realized for the first time how" drunk he was. Realized without caring, and intended to get drunker before the night was over.
He stepped up to Ellen and she looked at him, her eyes angry. But he knew that she was angry with Tom, not with him. "You'd better go away before he gets back," she said, motioning at the men's room with her head. "He's got a terrible temper."
"He's a fool," Earl stated.
Ellen smiled a little. "I guess he is," she said.
"I like you, Ellen," Dreggs told her, leaning on the table.
She didn't answer.
"I'd like to have you come with me. Ditch that ox and we'll go somewhere else."
"I can't," she said.
Dreggs sat down beside her, and she slid over to make room for him. He took her hand, a long thin hand, and ran his fingers up her arm. Looking in her eyes, he thought them very beautiful. She was a pretty girl, he had never noticed before because she was so opposite from Ginny. Ginny had blinded him with her dark curves.
"You are very pretty," he said. "You look like a doll. With big eyes, like a gazelle. That is a compliment, gazelles are beautiful animals." He felt more confident than he ever had with a woman before. Felt like another Sebastian Wolff.
"Thank you," she said, "But I don't want to play seconds to Ginny."
He shook his head, looking at her hand. "Very delicate hands," he said, "Not seconds, Ellen. I like you. You're very nice. I wish I had met you before I met Ginny. Now that I'm through with her, I'd like to be with you. Tonight especially, I need to talk to someone. Please."
"I wish I'd met you too. Before Tom. But he's here now, I can't leave him. We're engaged."
"No, Ellen, don't make a mistake like. that. He's an animal, you can see that."
She shook her head. "Don't," she said.
"I'll marry you. Tonight, if you like. You are so very, very nice, and I can talk to you. With Ginny it was all sex, I feel different about you."
"Please. Before Tom gets back, you've got to go. I'd like to see you, Earl. Will you come over tomorrow?"
"I'll come whenever you say, Ellen. But I want so badly to be with you tonight." He was pronouncing his words very clearly, very carefully.
"I'm sorry. Earl, I'll wait home tomorrow. Tom leaves at noon, you can come over then and ... please leave!" Her eyes widened as she looked over Dreggs' shoulder. The tone of her voice startled Earl, and he complied. As he turned from the table, he saw Tom walking up to him.
Earl no longer felt belligerent. He had baited the big man before, but now he felt happy, happy that he would see Ellen the next day. He didn't want any trouble now, and started to walk away.
Tom grabbed him by the shoulder and Earl turned around. He said, "Let go, man, I'm not looking for anything."
"You drunken bastard," Tom hissed, and slammed Earl backwards up against another table. Earl's legs gave out, and his head spun; he was too drunk for this exertion. Tom lifted him and banged him again to the table, shaking him like a rag doll.
Ellen was tugging at Tom's arms, but he ignored her. He said, "You dirty, lying bastard!" and heaved Earl against the wall. Earl started a punch, but his reflexes were gone from the bourbon. And Tom outweighed him by forty pounds. The punch glanced off Tom's skull, and he brought his own fist across Earl's mouth. The room spun.
"That's all," said Sebastian Wolff.
Tom let Earl go, and turned to Wolff. Sebastian had crossed the room without a sound, and stood not a yard from the other man. He said, "Let my friend go, and get out."
He spoke very softly.
Tom started to back away. There was something about the newcomer that he didn't want to try. He said, "Just keep out of it, huh? He insulted my girl."
"Good," said Sebastian, his face twisted. "She's probably a whore."
Tom blinked. He started to raise his hand, and Sebastian hit him with four shots before it passed his belt. Hooks, with all his one hundred and ninety pounds behind them. Two with each hand.
Tom fell face down, and didn't move. Only his fingers twitched.
"I'm sorry," Sebastian said to Ellen. "I meant no insult to you. Just the easiest way to provoke him."
She didn't answer. Her eyes moved from Tom to Sebastian.
Earl said, "Jeez, thanks, Sebastian. I'm a little drunker than I thought, apparently. Got no reflexes."
Sebastian slapped him on the shoulder. "I needed the exercise. Notice how I've slowed down? I used to hit that type six times before they could go down."
Earl shook his head.
"I'll leave with you," Ellen said to him. "I couldn't take any more of Tom. Not after this. He'd spend the rest of the night making excuses for being knocked out."
"Good," Earl said. "This was worth a little shaking up."
"He may come to my place when he wakes up," she said.
"Not with that jaw," Wolff said.
Earl introduced them. Wolff paid no attention to Ellen, which made Earl happy. He didn't want to lose Ellen, too.
Wolff said, "We'd better go now, Earl. I don't think you're in any condition to talk very much. Go home with your girl." He turned toward the door. The bartender had come over.
He said, "Is that guy all right? He looks bad, the way he's sprawled out there."
"He will be all right. After a while." Wolff said.
"Well, if he's a friend you'd better get him out of here. I called the cops at the start of this trouble. They should be here soon, you'd better leave. I don't want anybody thrown in jail, just want to keep my license. You know?" He was showing great respect for Sebastian's right hand.
Wolff nodded. The three left together, leaving Tom stretched on the floor. In front, Wolff turned to Earl. "I want you to be my best man," he said.
"What?"
"Yeah, going to do it."
"Chris?" "Yes, Chris."
Earl said, "Well, I'm damned. I'll be at Ginny's place tomorrow. Ellen is her roommate."
"Good," Sebastian said. "Ask Ginny if she wants to be the bridesmaid."
"What?"
Sebastian shrugged. "Why not?" he asked.
Dreggs shook his head at Sebastian's sense of propriety.
As they separated, Wolff looked closely at Ellen for the first time.
"You've got beautiful eyes," he said. His face had no expression at all.
He turned and walked off. Ellen's eyes followed him, until Dreggs took her hand and led her away. They walked a block in silence. Then Ellen spoke.
"He's beautiful," she said.
CHAPTER FIVE
"COFFEE," SAID SEBASTIAN, "makes mornings bearable." He raised his cup and took a sip. He was sitting with Earl and Ellen in a small coffee shop on West Third Street. It was ten o'clock, the morning after his fight with Tom. He was going to see Cynthia at eleven, and had time to kill.
"We're going to Boston tomorrow and get some money," he said. "Should be coming right back. Want to come along?"
"Yeah, might's well," Earl said. He felt no animosity toward Sebastian now, even gratitude because of the fight.
"I have to work," Ellen said, "But you may use my car if you like. Better than waiting for a bus. Get you back to me quicker." She squeezed Earl's hand.
Dreggs had spent the night with her. Although they had slept together, he had not made love to her. Not all the way. Ellen was a virgin.
"That would be fine," said Wolff. "If you don't need it."
"I won't need it," she said. "I owe you a favor for getting rid of Tom. I was so afraid that he would come over afterward and break in the door and cause a scene. Or attack Earl."
She smiled at Dreggs. "Earl is so much nicer," she said.
"Don't worry about Tom, he probably hasn't awakened yet," Wolff said. It was evident that he was not boasting, just confident. "I'm pretty sure his jaw went."
"You really hit him," Earl said. "It shamed me, I should have been able to do something."
"The evils of drink," Sebastian said.
There was snow again, just a few flakes. The weather was warmer, and people were walking by in considerable numbers, getting the benefit of one of the last nice days. Wolff decided he would walk to Cynthia's office, a few blocks uptown. He said goodbye to the others and left.
"He's quite a person," Ellen said.
"Yes, quite a person. He's the one whom Ginny loves."
"I guessed that from the conversation. Aren't you mad at him? Or jealous, after all he did take your girl."
"It was all for the better. Now I have you instead. Anyway, I can't be mad at Sebastian over a woman. That's just the was he is. If I stole a woman from him he wouldn't be angry either."
"I imagine," said Ellen, "that Mr. Wolff has more women than he can handle."
Earl grinned, "I don't know about him, but he has more than any other man could handle. What is there about him? You're a woman, you must be able to see what makes him so irresistable."
She wrinkled her brow. "It's hard to say. I think maybe it's his voice. When he speaks, I almost shudder. And I don't even love him, I love you." Earl smiled at this. A nice person, Ellen, not wanting to talk about Wolff without making Earl feel desirable too.
She said, "And his eyes, those eyes seem to know everything in the world. What a hypnotist he would make. He's sort of an ideal image, the dream-fantasy lover that every woman wants. He's masculine and he's very assured, yet he gives the impression that he could be gentle." She stopped, somewhat ashamed of having noticed all these things.
Earl said, "Well, he can have all the women in the world, as long as I have you, Ellie."
She smiled. She was certainly not the type for Sebastian Wolff, and she would never be his.
Except, perhaps, in a dream.
Sebastian walked leisurely up the Avenue of the Americas. It was Sunday, and all the offices would be closed. He could imagine Cynthia, alone in the building, waiting for him and thinking how best she could act indifferent when he entered. How silly women are, he thought. How could any man ever be fooled by a woman? like Earl. Sebastian felt no remorse about Ginny, he figured that Earl was well rid of her. And that any woman was fair game, it was u pto their husbands and lovers to hold them. He, himself, would not have minded if a woman had been unfaithful to him. He thought.
None ever had.
Sebastian stopped to light a cigarette and admire a pretty girl going by. She smiled at him and flipped her hips, and he almost followed her. But
Cynthia was waiting.
Funny how another man's woman is more desirable. I wouldn't feel half as much passion for Cynthia if she weren't married. I wonder if all men are like this, or just me. I'll have to ask Earl how he feels about it. He's the only guy I know, come to think of it. Must be something wrong with me. Or right.
He came to the right address and entered. The elevator was not working Sundays and he walked up five flights, reminding himself that he should get some exercise. He found the right door and entered the office without knocking.
It was a waiting room. Sebastian crossed it and opened the door on the other side. Cynthia was there. She had short blonde hair, regular features, a nice body in an expensive tweed suit.
She was sitting behind a desk, looking at him quizzically. She said, "I wasn't sure you'd come."
"I couldn't pass up the chance to see you," he said, going over to the desk and sitting on it.
"You did two years ago. I was so mad, Sebastian. After what happened at the party. And some of the women noticed the condition of the bed, and somebody's coat. They knew something had happened, the question was who had it been. I was very indignant along with them, of course."
"Yes, that was quite an evening."
"Not good enough for a repeat, though?"
"Well, I can explain that. I've been in jail, you see. They arrested me that very night, wouldn't let me call you, it was awful."
"Enough of your lies. I've forgotten it by now ... almost. But if you had come around the next month, I would have turned you down so fast that..."
Sebastian swung his legs around the desk; grasped Cynthia's hair in one hand and bent her back. He said, "No woman ever turns Sebastian Wolff down. Ever."
Cynthia winced. He let her hair go, but she kept her head back. She said, "I believe you, Sebastian Wolff. No woman could."
"Good. You're looking very nice, Cynthia," Sebastian said, kissing her on the mouth, lightly. He opened the envelope he was carrying. "These are the poems. Any or all, I don't care where and I don't care about the money, just so they're printed."
Cynthia skimmed the several sheets. She said, "These are very adequate. No trouble to sell them, if money's no problem. Typical college stuff. Who is she?"
Wolff grinned. "The girl I'm going to marry."
"The poor bitch," Cynthia said.
Wolff kissed her again, longer this time, letting his lips linger on hers. Her tongue moved in his mouth, a darting flame playing along the roof. When they parted, both were breathing hard.
Sebastian unbuttoned her jacket, her blouse. Her fingers moved in his shirt, along his chest. He removed her bra and she stood up, a thin body but large breasts, pink upturned nipples. She cupped her hands beneath them and raised them to Sebastian. He met them with his mouth lightly brushing the tips, which stiffened and swelled in response.
Cynthia unfastened her skirt and it fell to the floor. She stood before him clad only in panties. He kissed her once more.
"Remember at the party," she said, breathless, "What you did? Under the coats."
Sebastian nodded, moving his lips along her neck, down to her shoulder, back to her breasts.
"Do it to me again. Do it now," she said.
Wolff lifted her and sat her on the desk, her legs over the edge. He pulled her panties down slowly, letting his fingers trail on her inner thighs. She fell back on her elbows, eyes shut in ecstasy, as he pulled them over her feet; tossed them aside.
Sebastian's mouth moved on her legs, above the knees, up her thighs, very slowly. Cynthia's whole body shuddered.
Then he buried his face in her flesh, and she ground her body to him savagely. She moaned in unendurable pleasure as Sebastian brought her to the peak of desire.
"Take me," she cried.
Sebastian rose, his clothes open. Cynthia was stretched out on the desk top. He stood close ... she cried with pleasure, forced herself to him, writhed with desire. They ground together, Cynthia lying on her back, Sebastian standing.
"Oh," she said, "Oh..."
At the window the snow began falling faster. The flakes beat harder at the pane, faster.
And swirling faster. Harder.
The storm broke.
In one moment of blinding fury. And then ended again.
Sebastian relaxed against the desk, watching the flakes fall, feeling very calm.
Cynthia dressed carefully and slowly. Sebastian rested in the chair behind her desk. She said, "No man can ever really satisfy me after you. I felt the same way after the party. God, how disappointed I was when you didn't show up the next day. I thought I'd go crazy, I wanted you so bad. My husband couldn't understand what had happened, the poor bastard couldn't even start to satisfy me. He thought that I was passionate because I loved him. I do love him ... but it's you I want. I wish I hadn't had you now, I'll be crazy for a month." She paused and finished dressing.
"Will you come again?" she asked, when she was finished.
"Yes," he said, "I'll come again." "Often?"
"As often as I please. That depends on how good you are."
"Was I good today?"
"Very good, I like a passionate woman. The panting, clawing kind. You were very good, Cindy."
She went over and kissed him. "Don't make me wait long," she said. "I couldn't stand it." With a laugh, she added, "Neither could my husband. He's a once-a-week man. I'll probably kill him this week, trying to achieve what I had with you."
"My secret," Sebastian said, "Is powdered rhino horn. From the Orient, seventy dollars an ounce."
"This," said Cynthia, putting her hand on him, "Is your secret."
Sebastian laughed. A very direct woman, this Cynthia.
She promised to sell the poems within the next week, if Sebastian would promise to see her again within a few days. She said, "I know how an addict must feel, wanting a fix. I'll be wanting you so bad that I'll do anything."
"I'll be around," he said, and left.
The brief snow flurry had left a thin covering on the streets. Wolff walked back downtown, leaving footprints. Thinking that life was pretty good as long as you lived it.
He had Chris, whom he loved. He had Ginny, whose body was the greatest he could imagine, who went to the ultimate with him and for him. He had Cynthia, whose passion would match anyone's, who had money to spare. He thought perhaps he might even add Ellen for variety. A virgin type would provide a little conquest. Not bad for only having been here a week or so, he thought. It pays to know people.
He took his time, stopping to look in shop windows and to watch the multitudes of people passing by, each concerned with his own problems, his own life, his own loves. Sebastian could not identify with these people. He smiled at them, thinking the poor fools, they just don't know what the world is all about.
When he got home Chris was waiting. He said, "It's pretty well set, the agent is sure he can sell your stuff. Should be in print to give your father along with a wedding announcement."
She kissed him, throwing her arms around his neck. "I still can't believe we're going to be married," she said. "I hardly care about the poems, even. Just you. Even without any money, living in a shack with you I'd be happy."
He slapped her on the bottom.
"I've got a car for tomorrow, we can drive to
Boston."
"Good," she said.
"Earl's coming."
Chris looked disappointed for a second. "I'd rather go alone with you," she said.
"Yeah, well it's his girl's car so that's that," Sebastian explained with a shrug.
"The girl you mentioned last night?" "Yes."
"I hope you have no designs on her." "She's too thin. Cow-eyed." "I'm thin." She pouted.
Sebastian squeezed her on the bottom, looked thoughtful, said: "No, she's thinner than you. Less padding."
"Bastard," said Christine, "Don't let me catch you squeezing her tail. And don't let me see that Ginny or I'll scratch her eyes out. You're all mine."
"Well, I don't know. I had to let the agent have my body today for a guarantee she'd sell your stuff. It's a woman agent."
"Why do you tell me all these wild stories, you know I get jealous even though I know they're not true?"
"Um-m-m," said Sebastian.
Chris went to the kitchen. She called, "What do you want for dinner, Sebastian?"
"You," he said.
She came back into the room. Sat on the floor beside Wolff's chair and put her head in his lap. She asked, "Did you ever do that to another woman?"
"Never," said Sebastian.
CHAPTER SIX
EARLY MONDAY MORNING. Earl was driving, Chris sat in the middle, Sebastian was on the outside, smoking a cigar. A bright, clear day. They had Ellen's '55 Chevrolet, a red convertible.
"How white automobile exhausts are in cold weather," Chris said. "I may write a poem about them."
She turned on the radio, picked up a jazz station. "What a pleasant ride this will be," she said.
Wolff yawned. "Anything interesting to do in Boston while we're there?"
"Sure," she said. "Lots of unpuritanical people in Boston. Just so you leave the women alone, Wolff."
"Women?" he asked, with a stirring of interest.
"You don't say."
"We really shouldn't stay there long," Earl said. "I told Ellen we'd be back this evening. After all, it is her car."
"Yeah. Well, don't let her start taking you for granted. Do her good to find you are undependable."
"No, Sebastian. Not Ellie, she doesn't need that. I like her quite a bit."
"Too skinny. Is she that skinny with her clothes off?"
"I don't know."
"Don't know?"
"I mean that I haven't seen her without ... I'm not sleeping with her. Not that way, at least. She's a virgin."
"What? There's no such thing."
"Yes, Sebastian, no lie. She's a virgin."
"Man, you'd better end that fast," Wolff said.
Earl shrugged. "I'm in no hurry. There's nothing wrong with being a virgin. For a woman."
"Don't you believe it," Chris said, snuggling up to Sebastian. She kissed his ear, and he blew smoke in hers.
"Well, there's lots of time," Dreggs said.
"Never lots of time," Sebastian told him. "There are always new conquests to be made." Chris bit his ear.
"Don't say that again," she warned. "Before marriage, of course," Wolff said. "Well, I just might marry Ellie," Dreggs said. Wolff raised his eyebrows. "Has she got dough?" "No," Earl said.
"Man, she's too skinny to marry if she's not rich. They've gotta' be rich like Chris or beautiful like Ginny," Sebastian said.
Chris said, "Bastard!"
Sebastian laughed.
Earl said, "I don't know. I like her. Maybe it's just the rebound from Ginny. She a sick girl, Ginny. But I felt pretty bad at first."
"Not sick. Just promiscuous,"-Wolff said. "It's always good to give them the Wolff test before you marry them. I'll give Ellie a fast check, if you like."
"No," said Earl quickly.
"Better now than after you marry her," Wolff said.
"No. I said no." Earl's voice snapped. Sebastian looked sharply at him, but Earl's eyes were glued to the road ahead. Chris put one hand to Sebastian's lips. He looked from Earl to her, his eyes softening, and kissed her fingers.
She was very white in the cold air, and her hair was very black. Wolff looked in her eyes for a long time, then he said, "You are beautiful."
He pulled her to him, stroking her long hair, and said, "You are very, very beautiful, and I love you very much."
"I am so happy," she said.
Earl kept his eyes on the road.
They arrived in Boston at noon. Sebastian had taken over the wheel, and he whipped wildly and laughingly through the worst traffic in the world, weaving in and out, blowing the horn, shouting.
"I love to drive in Boston," he proclaimed. "Maybe your father will buy us a car to drive in Boston. A car would keep me occupied, keep my mind from straying to other women. It's to your advantage that I have a car when we're married."
Christine directed him to her bank. He double parked while she ran in. In a few minutes she returned, smiling.
"Here it is," Chris said. "Eight hundred dollars."
She handed it to Sebastian, who put it in his money clip. "How fine it is to be rich," he said. "Where to?" she asked.
"It's your town," Wolff told her. "Name it. I want fun and excitement and drink to celebrate our wealth. Is there a bar where you might know someone?"
"No. Boston isn't like New York. Most people don't go to bars, they get quarts and drink at parties. There are always parties."
"Direct us," Wolff said.
Chris gave directions, and the Chevy tore through traffic. In ten minutes she said, "Turn here and park." Wolff eased the car into a space, and the three got out.
"This is Symphony Road," Chris said. "I know some people here. We'll see what's going on."
Earl said, "Let's not stay too long, huh?"
"Uh," said Sebastian, noncommittally.
The street was a tangle of old apartment buildings, stone and brick. Chris led the way to one of them, and up the stairs. From apartment eight came the sound of a jazz record. Very loud.
Chris knocked and entered without waiting.
Wolff followed. In the center of the room stood a tall, shaggy-haired man, dressed in a paint-smeared sweatshirt. He greeted Christine with a kiss, hugged her, and extended his hand to Sebastian.
"Sebastian, this is Bob Kelly," Chris said. And, "Bob, this is Sebastian Wolff, whom I am going to marry."
"Great, best luck," said Kelly. "Sebastian Wolff ... what a great name that is ... sit down." He went to the refrigerator for beer, and the three sat on cushions on the floor.
There were other people there, all on the floor, all drinking. Both men and women. Each one had a quart of beer. The apartment was a shambles, a tangled chaos of furniture, paintings both finished and unfinished, empty bottles and relaxed bodies. Sebastian leaned back on his elbow and looked around.
"I like this," he said.
Kelly returned with quarts. He said, "First one on the house. After that Chris can show you where to get more."
Chris introduced him to Earl.
"Are you alone?" Kelly asked.
Earl nodded. "My woman had to work, couldn't get away."
"I'll fix you up," Kelly said. He looked around, spotted a redhead alone. "Jeannie, come here." She came over with a lazy, swivel-hipped walk.
Kelly said, "This is Earl, a guest from New York. Make him feel at home, huh?"
"Sure," said Jeannie.
"I think," said Sebastian, "That we like Boston."
Looking at Jeannie at the other girls, he decided that he liked it very much.
It was a frantic party. Everyone was drunk. Sebastian finished his quart and finished Chris' and she went with him to get more. They cut through a little alley to the next street, where there was a small package store, and bought a case of beer in quarts.
Coming back through the alley, swinging the case of beer between them, Sebastian saw a bottle fly through an open window and crash against the wall of the next building. Chris said, "That's Bob's kitchen window. The party is getting a little wild."
"Good," said Sebastian.
They went back in. Earl was making out okay, Jeannie had her head in his lap and he was stroking her hair. Sebastian put the beer in the refrigerator, opening two, and he and Chris returned to their place by the door.. Both drank steadily, Christine keeping up with Sebastian through the first few quarts.
Kelly was doing a limbo dance, while two girls held the ends of a broom over him. One of the girls was a Negress, very light skinned, with honey colored hair. She had a tight black sweater and tight orange slacks. Sebastian, narrow eyed and frowning, watched her move.
He wanted her.
Chris opened two more bottles. She said, "I'm getting tipsy, Sebastian, maybe I'd better go easy."
He laughed. "Drink!" he said, taking a swallow from his bottle. Chris followed suit.
Kelly had fallen on his back, in the center of the floor, and was lying there laughing. The Negress walked away, into the other room. She was slender, with small pointed breasts and wide, inviting hips. The way she swung them was an invitation in itself.
She walked the way most women make love.
Wolff wondered how she would make love.
He intended to know.
"Gotta' hit the John," he said to Chris, and got up. His legs were a little unsteady, he knew that Chris must be nearly out. She had drunk quart for quart with him. He crossed the room, stepping over Kelly, and went into the kitchen. The bathroom was off the kitchen. Sebastian passed that door, and went over to the window. The Negress was standing there, looking out. She seemed sober, perhaps a little bored. "Are you alone?" Sebastian asked.
She looked at "him. Very sexy eyes she had. "Yes, I'm alone. But you aren't."
"Yes. But I can drop that chick. She's just a pickup." Sebastian told her, leaning against the window-sill.
"She's very pretty."
"You are very beautiful. You are an angel."
She smiled. "Drop it," she said, "I'm no kid."
"Yes," said Sebastian.
"What is your name?" he asked.
"Maryanne," she said.
"I am Sebastian Wolff."
"I don't believe it. Then again, I don't care. A name doesn't matter much."
"Are you from Boston?" he asked.
"This is a strained conversation," Maryanne said.
Wolff kissed her. She didn't fight it, and after a moment her arms went around his neck. When they parted, she said, "My place is just across the hall ... when the party breaks up. If I feel like it."
"The party just ended," Wolff said.
"Not yet." She broke loose, and went back to the other room, her orange bottom taunting Sebastian.
He shook his head, and took out a cigarette. He lit it, looking out the window, letting his head clear in the fresh cold air. Then he returned also.
He sat by Chris. She was still drinking, was very drunk. He noticed that she got drunk very nicely, was not loud or incoherent. He considered himself lucky to have her. But at the moment his thoughts were on Maryanne. He watched as she moved from guy to guy, a kiss here, a word there. He hoped it was for his benefit.
Earl was kissing Jeannie. Everyone else seemed to have paired off and were starting to kiss and hold. Kelly was talking to Maryanne now, and three other guys were crowding around. Sebastian looked at Chris. Her eyes were shut, a smile on her face. He quietly got up and moved over to the group.
"Okay," Kelly was saying, "If you say that a person should always do what he wants, then that must go for everyone. Not just you. Is that right?"
"Why, yes," said. Maryanne.
"Well, then. Just as a hypothetical case, suppose I want to make love to you. Would I just take you, even if you objected?"
"You should try to do what you want," she said.
"Suppose all of us want you. All together. What about that?"
She shrugged. "Who am I to say what you want or what you do? If I didn't want you, I'd struggle. Of course, one girl and four ... five ... guys, I wouldn't have much of a chance."
"But we wouldn't want to rape you. We'd want you to agree to it," Kelly said.
"But I wouldn't. I'd only want one of you, if I wanted any at all," she answered.
"Oh. And which one would you want?" Kelly asked. "First," he added.
She smiled. Sebastian caught her eye, and she looked back at him. He stepped forward, and took her hand; pulled her toward him.
"I think," he said, "That Maryanne wants to go with me. Am I right?"
She shrugged, smiled. Wolff led her to the door and out.
"Which place is your?" he asked.
She went to a door, leading him now. It was unlocked, and they went in, Maryanne bolting the door behind them.
The room was dark. She said, "Wait a moment," and moved off. Sebastian stood waiting, hearing her move about. Then she struck a match; lit a candle.
And another.
"I think candles are so romantic," she said. "Don't you?"
"Yes," he told her. "I think so. I think that you are even more beautiful by candlelight. I think I want to make love to you by candlelight."
"Yes," she said. "It gives my skin such a nice color. like gold." With a laugh she was across the room. Sebastian followed.
She was on the bed. A narrow, single bed. She said, "Single beds are nice. Makes it necessary to double up."
Wolff took off his shirt, throwing it on the floor. Then he sat next to her and kicked off his shoes. She didn't move, watched him. He reached out, caressed her breasts through the sweater. He could feel the nipples straining against the material.
She wore no bra.
Sebastian tugged at the sweater, pulled it out from the slacks. His hand moved under it.
"Let's do this right," she said, sitting up. She pulled the sweater off, over her head. Her young breasts stood out, pointed at Sebastian. He took them in his mouth, first one then the other. Her hands held his head to her. Then he bent, caressed her stomach, moved down. Maryanne lay back, pressing his head to her. j
Sebastian took her slacks in both hands and pulled them gently down, kissing the line where the waistband had pressed into her smooth skin, following the slacks down to her golden belly.
With one frenzied motion she kicked the slacks from her feet, urging him to her. He felt her hands make deft movements on his clothing, and he was naked too.
Sebastian rolled under, and Maryanne moved on him, her back arched, her thighs tight in a circular motion on him. Her head bent forward and he heaved his straining loins up against her.
They moved together in urgent, all-consuming lust, driving their bodies together, writhing against each other. Working, and gasping with the efforts of love.
A draft caught the candles. The flames rose higher, brighter, shimmering and dancing.
Rose to a white heat.
And were extinguished, with a sigh.
In the dark, Sebastian said, "I love you, Maryanne."
CHAPTER SEVEN
"WHO IN HELL IS THAT?" someone asked.
The four men watched as Sebastian and Maryanne went out the door, fie leading her by the hand. Bob Kelly laughed, but the other three were obviously angry.
"We could have all had her," said one.
"Who in hell is he?"
Kelly said, "Name's Sebastian Wolff ... isn't that a fine name? I love that name."
"What's he doing here? Crash the party?"
Kelly shook his head. "He came with Chris Alexandre. She mentioned something about being engaged. I don't know how true it is." He looked around the room, spotted Chris by the door. "She's still here. Wolff must have been enchanted by the charms of our Maryanne."
"She went willing enough."
"Maryanne is always willing," Kelly said.
Everyone had paired off, and quite a few had left. Several had fallen asleep, including Earl Dreggs. His head was in Jeannie's lap, she was stroking his hair and finishing a quart of beer.
"It looks like I'm left alone in my own home," Kelly said. "Unless I can persuade Chris that she should avenge her fianc''s infidelity."
"There's four of us," another man added.
Kelly pursed his lips, and rumpled his hair. He said, "Christine never used to be the type for that. But ... a year in New York ... may have changed things a bit. Nothing ventured, nothing gained." He shrugged at the others, and crossed the room.
"Chris," he said, kneeling by her.
She didn't stir. Christine had drunk more alcohol than ever before in her life, and she was very drunk. Kelly shook her, and still got no response. She sank back to the floor.
He looked at her, frowning. Bob Kelly liked Christine, had known her for years. He did not want to hurt her, and he knew that she was not the promiscuous type. But he too was quite drunk. And his friends were standing around, waiting. And most of all, Christine's finance had taken Maryanne away with him. Bob shook his head.
"What the hell," he said.
Kelly lifted Chris and carried her into the bedroom. The others started to follow.
"Wait up a few minutes. I'll call you," he said, and kicked the door shut behind him.
He placed Christine gently on the bed, and sat beside her.
"Wake up," he said.
She started to stir. He cuffed her cheek lightly a few times, and her eyes flickered open. She said, "Sebastian?" trying to make out the figure above her. Kelly kissed her on the neck, then kissed her on the lips. He said, "It's all right."
"Who are you," she said, starting to rise. The room was very dark, and Christine could see only shadows.
"It's all right," he said again, "It's Bob Kelly."
"Oh, Bob ... I didn't recognize you. Why are we here and where is Sebastian. Did I pass out?"
He kissed her again, and Christine didn't resist. They were old friends, and she would have felt foolish telling him to stop. He kissed her on the lips. When he pulled away, she could hear his breathing. It was too heavy, she thought, for old friends.
"Where is Sebastian?" she asked.
"Gone," said Kelly, moving his lips to hers again.
"Don't, Bob, said Christine. "What do you mean gone? Where has he gone?"
"Away. Kiss me."
"No. Please Bob ... what are you trying to do?"
"Kiss you. That's all. You are so lovely, I just want to kiss you. Let me do it and I'll be happy."
Christine's head ached, and she was dizzy. Bob kissed her on the mouth, and she let him, although she didn't return the effort. She was still foggy from the alcohol.
"Please. Tell me what is going on," she said.
"Your man left. With Maryanne. He left you on the floor, didn't give a damn what happened to you. That's what happened. Three guys almost raped you before I carried you in here. That's how much he cares about you, the bastard."
"But. . . where did he go? When is he coming back?"
"Never. They've gone away together, he's not coming back. Kiss me, Christine."
"No, Bob. Don't. I don't believe it."
"Maryanne was my girl. How do you think I felt watching them go. Knowing they were going to bed. You're lucky you were asleep. It was easier on you that way."
Christine started to get up. Kelly forced her back, very gently, and kissed her neck. "My girl. . . your man. That leaves you and me together, I guess. You and me, Christine. I'll never leave you. The goddamn fool, you're so lovely. Now kiss me."
She started to rise again. Kelly ran one hand through her hair, taking a handful, and pulled her back to the bed. She was sobbing, half drunk, hall frightened. Very heartbroken.
"Right now they are in bed together," Kelly said, whispering the words, breathing hot breath in her ear. "In bed. Sebastian and Maryanne. And they have taken their clothes off. They're naked and holding each other. He's telling her that he loves her more than anyone, and telling her that he will marry her."
"No..." said Christine. She could barely comprehend what had happened, what was happening. Her mind was still muddled. She lay back, eyes shut, trying to think.
Kelly pressed his lips on hers, long and warm. His tongue moved in her mouth. His arms held her, comforted her. She wanted to be held and to be comforted.
She kissed him back.
"Yes," he whispered.
Kelly's hands moved on her, stroking her sides. Then her legs.
Her thighs.
She scarcely felt his touch, clinging to him in the dark, crying now in almost hysterical sobs. He pressed himself to her, whispering in her ear, kissing her.
"I'll be so good to you," he whispered, "I'll never leave you. Don't cry, Chris, I'm here. I'll love you so nicely, easily. I won't ever hurt you, Baby. Don't cry, relax."
Christine became fully aware of his touch. She stiffened, but did not move. His hand caressed her, very slowly.
"Bob ... just hold me."
"I am, Chris," he whispered.
"I mean ... just hold me. Don't do that, please. I don't want that, I just want to have you close."
"Baby, I must. It's you and me now, just us. Damn the whole world, just you and me, alone. Don't stop me. It feels so good. Doesn't it? You want me to, don't you?"
She didn't answer. Neither did she move. Kelly's hand stroked her once more, and this time she relaxed. He kissed her, grinding his lips to hers, his body to her. She pressed back, wanting to be as close as she could to him. She did not love him. He was a source of comfort, of security.
Of warmth.
"This is so good. Isn't it so good," he said, very softly.
"Oh, yes," she said. "Yes, it is good. Don't stop, Bob. It feels so good."
"I'll never stop, Baby," he said, "I'll love you forever."
"Yes," she said.
In the next room, three men waited impatiently at the door. Their names were Gus, Pete and Bill. All were drunk, and none had a woman. Gus had the last bottle of beer, which he downed. A trickle ran to his chin, and wet his full red beard.
Gus said, "It's taking Bob a long time with her. I hope he isn't going to cut us out."
"No, he's okay. Christ, man, it takes a while to convince a chick to do four guys."
"Yeah, I suppose," said Gus, tipping the empty bottle over his lips. A few last drops fell into his mouth.
Earl Dreggs had awakened. He was kissing Jeannie. She said, "You're too drunk. I really got stuck with a beauty. I ought to go do the crowd by the door."
"I'm never too drunk," said Earl.
Jeannie laughed, throwing back her head. "Prove it," she said.
Dreggs asked, "Where? Just show me where."
"Right here," she said.
"In front of everyone?"
"They've all seen me before. Are you ashamed?"
Earl shook his head, clearing it. Jeannie shook heis, laughing harder, her red hair catching the light in little sparks. She said, "Don't be afraid, Earl honey, Boston is a civilized place."
He moved to her.
Bob Kelly opened the door. He was naked, his body showing white in the light, outlined against the dark bedroom. The three men turned to him, eyebrows up.
Kelly grinned. Slightly.
He said, "Come in. Take your clothes off. But be quiet and take it easy. And don't hurt her, she's a nice chick."
The three went in, and Kelly shut the door.
"I'm first," Gus said, taking his pants off.
"Okay, I don't care. But be quiet."
Gus stepped to the bed. Christine was lying there. She was naked. He could barely make out her form in the dark. She lay very still, on her back, eyes shut. One leg trailed off the edge of the bed. Her long black hair was haloed around her face. Looking at her, Bob Kelly suddenly felt very sorry for her. She seemed so helpless.
"For Christ sake, take it easy," he said.
Gus nodded. He was looking at Christine's body. His arms were straight down at his sides, fingers twitching. He grinned, and got on the bed.
Gus put his hand on Christine's bare stomach.
Her eyes flickered. "Bob?" she asked.
"I'm here, Baby. It's all right," Kelly said. He sat on the bed, taking Chris' hand in both of his. He held it tight, thinking, I hope they get this over with fast.
Gus moved on top of Christine. The other two moved close, watching. Their breathing was loud, and heavy.
"Bob," said Christine. "Who? Bob, there's someone else here. Bob? Where are you?". She tried to get up. Gus' weight forced her back. He placed one hand on her thigh.
"It's all right, Baby," Kelly said. "Don't worry, I'm here. Nobody's going to hurt you, Baby. I'm right here." He squeezed her hand.
Christine's eyes opened wide. She felt a surge of terror, or fright. Of disbelief. She started to scream.
Her vocal chords wouldn't work. Her mouth was open, and silent. Gus drove his body to her.
Again and again.
Christine's mouth closed, slowly.
Her eyes closed.
She lay back, still, submitting. Still not fully realizing what was happening to her, and not caring.
She felt the world could fall and she would not care.
Pete got on the bed. He said, "Let's do it together, she's ready for us all."
Bill joined him.
Bob Kelly held her hand very tightly, and looked away.
Jeannie said, "I guess you weren't so drunk after all, Honey. You're a good man."
Dreggs lit a cigarette. He was drunk, and he knew it. But sobering up rapidly. He said, "Jeannie, with a chick like you any man could be good."
She said, "Thank you," as she fastened the side of her slacks; reached for her blouse.
"No, thank you. Say, where is Sebastian?" "Who?"
"The guy I came with. The one with Chris!" He said, looking around the room.
Jeannie laughed. "The one with Chris?" she said.
Earl said, "Yeah. You know Chris, the long, black-haired girl." He turned to Jeannie, and saw the strange look in her eyes.
"What is it?" he asked.
Jeannie said, "I think your friend left with Maryanne."
"He was with Christine."
"He came with Christine. I think he left with Maryanne. The girl in the orange slacks."
"What about Chris?"
"She's here."
"Where?" Earl asked.
"I hope your friend doesn't care much for her. Or else that he's very open minded," Jeannie said, rolling over on her stomach, and looking at her fingernails.
Dreggs thought it over. It was evident that Christine had gone with another guy, probably in revenge on Sebastian. And if she were still here, then she was in the bedroom. He didn't think that she would make love to anyone but Wolff.
Wolff's women never wanted anyone else.
But Earl Dreggs liked Christine. He thought, I probably like her more than I do Sebastian. If she's through with him, I would like a chance to take over.
He said, "Who is she with?"
The redhead laughed.
"Answer me, dammit!" he said.
"Oh? Getting demanding are we? How do I know who the hell she's with," Jeannie said angrily. "Why don't you go and see for yourself. You can make a report to your friend."
"She in there?" Earl asked, nodding at the bedroom door. He remembered, as he looked that way, that the three men who had been left alone had gone in there. "Who else is there?"
"Go and look," she said, and turned away.
Dreggs pulled his pants on, and stood up. Jeannie didn't turn around. He disliked her, all of a sudden. He wanted to be with Christine, wanted to be in love with Christine. He didn't want to see Jeannie again.
And he didn't want to see Sebastian Wolff again. Ever.
He crossed the room and started to knock on the door. Then he realized that it was the most ridiculous thing that he could conceive of. He pushed the door open.
The light flooded the bedroom.
"Shut that door, you damn fool," someone said, from the bed.
Dreggs shut the door behind him. He stood, frowning at the dark room, leaning against the doorframe. His eyes grew accustomed to the darkness.
There were several figures on the bed. As Earl watched, one detached itself from the group and crossed the room, brushing by him. The figure opened the door, and left. Earl recognized Bob Kelly in the moment of light. He walked over to the bed.
One woman.
Three men.
They were grouped around her. One was on top, moving frog-like against her. The other two were on either side, touching her, pressing their naked flesh to hers. Earl looked at the woman.
Christine.
She was very still, not moving at all. Her knees were up, her head back. He recognized the white skin, framed in the black hair.
And the dark eyes.
Open.
She was looking at him. Earl turned and left.
Jeannie spoke to him, but he walked by and out the door. He went down in the cold air.
He was very sober.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"I'LL SEE YOU," SAID MARYANNE. "Soon."
"Yes," Sebastian said. He smiled at her, from the door. She was still on the couch. The candles were lit again.
She really does have golden skin, he thought.
Sebastian went out, shutting the door behind him. In the hall, he took a deep breath, and smiled. Quite a girl, Maryanne. I really must love Chris to leave, he thought. It was a strange sensation for Wolff, and he enjoyed it. As long as it didn't get out of hand.
Wolff crossed the corridor, and entered apartment eight. The front room was empty, except for Bob Kelly. Kelly sat looking out the front window, a pint of whiskey in one hand. He turned at the sound of the door being shut.
"Hello," Sebastian said. "Party over?"
"For you, it is," Kelly said.
"Huh?" You mad about the chick?" Wolff asked.
Kelly turned back to the window. He tipped the bottle up and took a long drink.
Sebastian said, "Hell, man. Nobody would have copped if the chick stayed with the whole crowd. She's free now, and ready for more. Go on over."
"Shut the hell up!" Kelly shouted.
Wolff squinted. His jaws tightened. He was certainly not in the mood for a fight, but he didn't like to be talked to that way. He said, "Take it easy, Bob, okay?"
Kelly took another drink.
Wolff watched him for a minute. Then he asked, "Where did Christine go?"
Kelly looked at him. A strange look. "She's here," he said.
"Where?"
Kelly nodded at the bedroom. Wolff raised his eyebrows in a questioning glance. "Alone?" he asked.
"No," Kelly said, putting down another swallow.
"Who was it?"
Kelly didn't answer.
"Look," Sebastian said. "I'm not Victorian. So somebody scored. So what? It's not taking anything from me."
"Well, aren't you the libertine, though," said Kelly. "Was it you?" Wolff asked. "Me? Yes, it was me."
"Okay. I'm not mad," Sebastian said. "Surprised, yes. I thought that she was the faithful kind."
"like you? You really hurt her," Kelly said.
"I did no more than she did, it seems," Wolff said.
"Much more," Kelly said. He finished the bottle, looked at it, and threw it across the room. It shattered against the wall.
Wolff said, "What in hell's the matter?"
Kelly said, "It's not you, why kid myself? It's me, I did it. It's myself that I hate right now."
"Because you copped another man's woman? Don't be a fool, Bob." Wolff told him.
"Because everybody copped her, you goddamn fool!" Kelly said.
Sebastian blinked. He didn't believe it. Not with Christine. Another girl maybe, but not her. He felt a strange sensation in his stomach, a feeling which he didn't like at all.
"I did. Gus did. And Pete and Bill. One at a time and all at once. On my bed. And I led her into it, and I held her hand while they did, and told her it was all right. And you know why she did it? Huh? Do you know why, Wolff?"
Sebastian shrugged. He didn't want to look at Kelly.
"Because she loved you," Kelly said.
"Sure," said Wolff.
Kelly came across the room. He was walking unsteadily. He said, "She did it in despair, Wolff. Because I told her that you had left with Maryanne. Because she didn't care what happened after you were gone. She didn't care, she only wanted you."
Wolff wrinkled his face in a grimace. "Sounds pretty, Kelly," he said. "But maybe I'm not as open-minded as I thought."
"Go see her," Kelly said. "She's alone."
"Waiting for the next man, huh? I don't want to be last."
"I mean see her. Go talk to her."
Wolff crossed the room, walking on his heels. He went in the bedroom and over to the bed. The room was damp, it smelled of love. Christine had pulled the sheet over her. She was still undressed, still lying on her back. She had not moved. She turned her head to him.
"Sebastian," she said.
He didn't answer. Sebastian Wolff felt his guts tie themselves in knots.
Her lips formed his name again, soundlessly.
Wolff turned and walked out. Kelly gave him a questioning look.
Wolff said, "The hell with her. There are many, many women in the world, Kelly. She's all yours."
"You're a fool," Kelly said.
Sebastian forced a smile. It turned out a snarl. He said, "Yes, I must be a fool. See you, Kelly."
"Goodbye," said Kelly, flatly.
Sebastian left. He went down the stairs quietly, only his heels clicking as he walked. Out in the street, he started whistling. The notes sounded very out of place on the sad, cold air.
But he whistled anyway.
Christine came out of the bedroom. Her always pale skin was whiter than ever, all her makeup was gone. She was dressed now.
Kelly started to get up, then sat down again.
He said, "I'm so sorry, Christine."
She said, "Have you any coffee?"
"Yes, of course." He went to the kitchen, put the coffee on. She followed him, sat at the table. "Are you all right? I mean...? "
"Yes, I'm all right. Don't worry." "I ... what can I say?" "Say nothing," she said. He nodded.
The coffee was ready. He poured two cups, spilling some each time. He sat opposite Christine. "Is it snowing out now?" she asked. "No, it's colder," he said. "Oh."
"Chris? Where will you go now? Back to New York?"
"I don't know."
"I'd like to help. Would you stay here?"
She shook her head, looking into her coffee cup.
"I'd like to help," he repeated.
"Haven't you done enough?" she asked.
"Yes," said Kelly. "I've done enough."
They drank coffee in silence. When she was through, Christine went to the bathroom. She came out looking better, hair combed, face made up. Her eyes still looked vacant.
"I'm going now, Bob," she said. "Goodbye."
"Goodbye, Chris," he said.
She left. Kelly swirled the coffee around his cup.
Goddamn it," he said, vaguely.
Christine went downstairs. She crossed the street to where the car was parked. She didn't know where else to go, hoped the keys were in the car. They were.
So was Earl Dreggs. He said, "Get in, Chris. It's a little warmer in here."
She hesitated for a moment, and then got in the car.
Earl said, "Where can I take you?"
"God knows," she said.
"You look terrible," he said.
"Shouldn't I?"
"I'm sorry. I meant. . . "
"You saw, didn't you?"
He nodded.
"Why did you wait for me?"
"Christine ... I know ... I think I know ... how you felt. Why you let them ... Oh hell, I don't care. That's over now, you're still the same person. I still like you."
"Where will you take me?"
"Wherever you want."
"Do you want me, too? Do you want to go to bed with me too, Earl? You can, you know," she said.
Earl looked out over the steering wheel.
"Is that why you waited, Earl?"
"I don't know," he said, slowly. "It might be. I like you."
"I want you to," she said. "I want to have you make love to me, Earl, right now I want it."
"Where can we go?" he asked. He still looked out of the windshield, eyes straight ahead. He did not understand. Christine knew he did not understand. She didn't care.
"My father's," she said. "They'll be out tonight."
Earl started the car, still not looking at her. He wasn't sure what he had expected, but not this. He wasn't even sure that he wanted to go to bed with her now.
Christine directed Earl. He drove out Route Twenty, several miles. Christine's father lived in a wealthy suburb. It was a large house, brown stone.
"Park in the driveway," she told him.
They got out and went to the door. Chris opened it with her key, and went in. Earl followed.
"Nice house," he said.
"I hate it," she said.
"Let's go up to my room," she said.
Earl took her shoulders. "We don't have to, Chris."
She smiled up at him. His lean features looked very sad to her. She wondered at her own ability to bring a smile to her face; at the fact that she felt very little emotion at that moment.
Earl said, "We really don't have to. I don't care."
"I want to," Christine said.
She led him up the stairs, down the hall. Earl had wanted Chris. He had wanted her several times before. But now that he was going to have her he wanted to turn, to leave.
He wanted to hit her.
But he didn't.
She entered a room, switched on the light. It was obviously her room, several of her paintings were on the wall, a photo of her was beside the bed. She looked around. It had been quite a while since she was here. "I've never made love here," she remarked.
Earl was silent.
"I want to bathe before we do it, Earl. I want to be clean for you, not have you after all the others. Will you wait?"
"I'll wait."
She went down the hall. Dreggs looked around, looked at her paintings, at her photo. God, he thought, how beautiful she was.
He heard water splashing and followed the sound to the bathroom. Chris was just getting in the tub. She looked up and said, "You can scrub my back, if you like."
Earl entered. Her pale, naked body excited him. He could feel the beads of sweat stand out on his forehead as he rubbed the soap on her skin. She looked up. "I like to have your hands on me!"
"You're nice ... smooth."
She raised her knees to her chin. "If only I was a virgin, huh?" she said, looking coy.
"I don't care," Earl answered.
"Really?" Christine asked him, "You really don't care, Earl?" Her voice was sarcastic.
He scrubbed her back and didn't look at her face. His own face was very warm, he thought it probably was red.
"Say that you love me."
"I love you," he said.
"Say that you really love me."
"I really love you."
"Do you?"
"Yes."
She got out of the tub; handed Earl the towel. She still is beautiful, he thought. He rubbed her dry, starting at the back.
"Dry me all over," she told him. His hands started to tremble, holding the towel. She looked over her shoulder. "Are you impatient?" "Yes," he said.
"Come," she told him. She walked out of the bathroom ahead of him. He watched the easy sway of her hips; threw the towel to the floor and followed her out. She went back to the bedroom.
Christine got on the bed. Earl undressed, and got on beside her. He hesitated. She said, "Earl, do everything to me. Everything. Let me do everything. I want to feel ... to be ... as degraded as possible. I want to be the most degraded woman in the world. I have no pride left. Nor any joy."
"I can't, Christine," he said. He got up, started to dress. "I'm sorry, I just can't. Damn it, I can't."
And for the first time since the party, Christine Alexandre started to cry. It started with one tear, in the corner of her left eye, and then all the tension and sorrow and despair burst forth and she rolled over and her whole body was wracked with sobs.
Dreggs watched. And he knew how she felt, and why. He sat next to her; put one hand on her waist.
"Will you marry me?" he asked.
She turned to him. Shook her head no, and buried her face against his bare chest. He stroked her hair, her shoulder.
"Christine, marry me."
"I will," she said.
"I love you, Christine."
"How can you?"
"Because I do."
"After what happened today? You just feel sorry for me."
"No."
"I don't care. I'll marry you, anyway. I don't care what the reason is."
"I love you, Christine. I do."
The tears had stopped. She clung to him. He stroked her body tenderly, her sides, her breasts. Very slowly she warmed to his touch.
She raised her lips to be kissed. Earl kissed her, hard but with love. Her tongue moved in his mouth, her fingers played on him.
"I love you, I love you," Christine murmured.
Earl touched her breasts, stroked them. They quivered, her whole body trembled. His hands slid down her, touching every curve, every dip and swell of her person. He said, "I want to know every inch of you. Every bit of your body. I want to know you with my hands. With my mouth."
"Know me," she whispered. "I want you to." "Take me!"
He answered the command, moving between her thighs. In one instant they joined together in the first moment of ecstasy.
Then, together, they moved.
Christine's legs were up, tightening around him. She panted, moaned, bit his neck until she tasted blood. He moved his body, teeth clenched with the strain which filled his whole being.
She sunk her nails in his flesh, cried out in unknown sounds of love. And lust. And need. And one gasping cry of fulfillment. And little moans then of completed love, and contented relaxation.
"Do you still love me, now," she asked. "Yes."
"As much as before?"
"More. More than anything in the world. I love you so very, very much."
"Will you still marry me?"
"Right away. Right now."
She smiled. She said, "I guess it was all for the best. Sebastian ... and those others at the party. If it hadn't happened, I wouldn't have loved you. I wouldn't have known that it was you I loved. I hope you don't mind about the others. Don't ever think of it. I'll never be unfaithful to you, Earl."
"I don't care what happened. I love you."
"It is so strange how things work out, sometimes," Christine said. "It makes one think that maybe there is a God after all."
Earl smiled. "It makes me think I'm lucky," he said.
"I'm lucky. It's me that's lucky. You are stuck with me forever. Am I good? Sebastian said I was too skinny. He said that Ginny was better than I am."
"He's a liar," Earl said, wondering if it were true.
"No," Chris said, "I was never this good for Sebastian. I know it, I was always more reserved."
"You're perfect for me, my darling."
"Good. I want to be."
Earl lit two cigarettes. He handed one to Chris, and drew on the other. The room was dark and he watched the two red points glow in the window pane. Brighten and fade.
like people, he thought.
like love.
He saw the lights of Boston, little pinpoints through the window, little points of love, each one a pinpoint of love. That thought is strange, he told himself. But so is love.
CHAPTER NINE
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.
CHAPTER TEN
"WELL," SAID WILLIAM ALEXANDRE, "If it's what you want, then I guess it'll have to be all right with me. It's awfully sudden, of course, and it came as a surprise. But sometimes these things work out for the best, and I certainly hope this one does." He paused to relight his pipe, drawing through it slowly and creating a cloud of gray smoke above him. Then, suddenly, looking at Earl Dreggs, he asked, "What did you say your business was?"
"Well, I'm working in a bookstore at present," Earl said, knowing that Alexandre remembered this fact from the first two times he had asked the same question.
"Yes. I don't suppose that there is much chance for advancement in that line of work?" "No, sir, I don't suppose so."
"Well," said Alexandre, "if it's what you want." He turned his gaze to Christine.
"Yes," she said, "It's what I want."
Alexandre settled back in his chair, puffing on the pipe. Earl Dreggs, sitting opposite him, thought I don't like this man. I wish that we had left early this morning, before he returned. I can't talk with people like this. To talk to him I would either have to be dishonest or very confident in my own way of life, and I am neither. I am also too respectful to gain much respect in return.
He thought, I wish that for just this hour I were Sebastian Wolff. Sebastian would convince this man that he owned the world, that they are talking on an equal plane. But I am not Sebastian Wolff, and I must do what I can, and say what I really think. And it will do me no good with Mr. William Alexandre.
Christine excused herself and left the room to speak to her mother. Dreggs and Alexandre faced each other, alone in the room, now, and neither was sure what to say. The older man kept his mouth clamped on the pipe stem, while he searched for words, and Dreggs felt a little reassured. He though this man is nervous too, just as I am, he is using that pipe as a mask. He is used to dealing with people, and can put up a better front than I can. But inside he is as bad.
"Dreggs," said Christine's father, "Now that we are alone ... I'd like a few man to man words."
"Of course."
"I want Chris to have whatever she wants. To be frank, I don't think that this marriage is advisable. But I have never interfered in her life, and I shan't start now."
"However," he continued, "You obviously won't be able to support her the way I have been doing. I can correct that, and I intend to. But I'm not sure how. I know Chris has a great deal of pride, she gets it from me. And she most-likely won't want to have me support you after you are married. Perhaps you have that kind of pride too, I don't know." He paused, apparently waiting for Earl to say whether or not he had pride.
Earl wondered, what would Sebastian say? Would he say, I don't want your money? Or would he say, pride, hell, I want all I can get, for Chris and for myself? Either way would work for Sebastian, either way he would get money, and make Alexandre feel grateful that he accepted it, as well. But it wasn't right for Dreggs.
He said, "Sir, I want Christine to be happy. Whether or not that depends on your aid, will be up to her."
"She will refuse it, I'm afraid. She has pride."
And I don't, is that it, Earl thought? He wanted to say it aloud, but instead he waited. He told himself, I don't want his money, I don't care if I ever get a penny. I love Chris, that's enough. Wolff would have married her for the money, and gotten it, and also gained this man's respect. I don't want it; and I have gained only his contempt. Why should things always work out this way?
Alexandre asked, softly, "Christine isn't pregnant, is she?"
"No," Earl said.
"That's good," Alexandre said, with an air which implied, I still may be able to talk her out of this foolish move, as long as she doesn't have to get married. He said, "I don't suppose that you would agree to wait for a few months before going ahead with your plans?"
"I would wait if Chris wanted. I don't believe that she wants to wait, sir. You could ask her."
"I was hoping that you would try to convince her of the advisability of a short postponement."
"No, I won't do that." Earl felt a little better, having made a direct statement, a direct refusal. Why shouldn't he, he didn't want a thing from Alexandre. There was no reason that he should bow to the man, other than that he was Christine's father. And Christine herself didn't show him any respect.
"If I asked her to wait, she would marry you all the sooner, to prove her independence. I know my daughter, that is how she would react. That is why I had hoped that you..."
"No, I won't."
"Very well. There is little that I can do. I will be able to find you a better position than you now have, however. I have diverse interests here in Boston. If you decide to live here after the wedding, I will be happy to give you a decent job with a living wage."
"I would appreciate that, providing we decide to live here. I think it was quite definite that we were to live in New York for a while."
"I see. Another of Christine's decisions, I imagine. I hope you will learn to be the head of your family, eventually."
"Mr. Alexandre ... if I have let Christine make all the decisions so far, it is only because I love her and want her to be happy. The same as you seem to. And I'm not at all sure that living here and being obligated to you would be the best move for her, let alone the thing she would want to do. Not at first, anyway."
"You will, at least, have the wedding here?"
"I haven't discussed that with Christine."
"I, myself, don't care. But for her mother's sake..."
"We'll see," Earl said. His tone implied that the conversation was over. He turned toward the kitchen, took a cigarette from his pack and lit it. Mr. Alexandre watched him, deciding that Dreggs was not going to be as easy to control as first appearances led him to believe. And perhaps he would not be a poor son-in-law.
"Well," said Alexandre, "We'll wait and see how things turn out, who knows?"
Driving back to New York that evening Christine sat close to Earl, her head resting on his shoulder. He kept his eyes on the road, and both hands on the wheel. It was snowing, the ground was white, and the road was slippery. Earl drove slowly, not really because of the snow, but because he didn't want to get to New York where Christine had belonged to Wolff, where he had to return Ellen's car, and explain to her that it was over between them.
They had agreed to be married in Boston, in two weeks. That was the longest that Christine would wait, and her parents had to settle for it.
But they were to live in New York afterwards. Dreggs was glad of this. He had decided that he did not want any money from Chris' father, and did not want his help in finding a job. Not at first.
Chris asked, "You don't mind waiting two weeks? And being married there?"
"No, not as long as I spend the two weeks with you."
"You're sure you won't be sick of me by then?" "Very sure."
"We could get married right away and never go back."
"We've told them we would."
"I know," she said, "I don't care. I hate to wait. Sebastian still has my money, though. I wonder if we ever see him or the money again? We could use the money."
"It's worth it not to have him around. I don't want you to ever see him again," Earl said.
"Are you jealous?"
"Very jealous. You were his girl first, Chris. And I've learned never to underestimate Sebastian."
"You don't have to worry. I love you more than I ever did him. I don't think that I loved him at all, as far as that goes. I was just overwhelmed by him,"' Christine said. She wanted to believe this, herself, and almost did. But she still thought of Wolff with a tingle which Dreggs had never created in her. She resolved to ignore the feeling, to put Wolff out of her mind; and in case she ever saw him again, to hate him or at least dislike him for what he had done, and what she had done as a result.
"I hope so," Earl said.
When they reached New York, Earl drove to Christine's first. Sebastian's clothes and personal things were there, and they made Dreggs feel sad, almost as if he didn't belong.
"Pack these things, will you, Chris?" he said. "I don't want them here. I'll put them out in the hall."
"Why don't we just throw them in the closet? There's no need of letting them get stolen, that won't do anyone any good. And he does have my eight hundred dollars, which I'd like to get in return for his things."
"Do whatever you want with them, I don't care. Just so they are out of sight. I've got to take Ellen's car back, which is a job that I don't look forward to."
He left and drove to Ellen's. It was quite late when he knocked on the door, but she opened it immediately.
"Oh, Earl. I'm so glad to see you. I thought maybe you'd had an accident or something."
Earl entered. The table was cluttered with coffee cups and cigarette buts, and he put the car keys on one corner. Ellen was waiting to be kissed, and he did so, lightly, on the forehead.
"What's the matter?" she asked.
"Ellie ... you're a very nice person," he told her.
"What is it?"
Earl turned away, lit a cigarette, wondered, how do I tell her, so it will be easier on her. If only she weren't so nice, if I could find some reason to make her think it was her fault. It wouldn't be so hard an her if she thought the break-up was her doing, it least it would save her pride. But she has never done anything wrong to me, and probably not to anyone in the world, so I'll tell her the truth because there's no way to lie.
"Ellie," he began, "I hate to tell you this. But I won't be around any more. A lot happened over the last couple of days. The details aren't important, but ... I'm in love with Christine Alexandre and we're going to be married in two weeks."
She looked startled for a moment, and then very calm. She said, "What's all the fuss? I never staked a claim on you, and I never thought that we had anything serious. Don't worry about me. I don't love you, you're just a nice guy with whom I had some fun. Now it's over, all right. Want some coffee before you go?"
"Yes, I'd like a cup," Earl said. He thought what a sweetheart she is, trying to make me think that I haven't hurt her. I would marry her if I didn't love Chris so much. Without Chris I would marry her. Hell, without Chris, now that I've had her I wouldn't care what I did.
He sat at the table, and Ellen cleared a space. She went to the kitchen, returned with the coffee pot and filled two cups. They sat in silence, for a few minutes, and then Ellen said, "Wasn't she Sebastian's girl? Yes, of course. There must have been some turnover in Boston." She managed a laugh at the end.
"Yes, I guess there was. It was a strange scene, Ellie. I'd rather not talk about it."
"Sure," she said.
"Where is Sebastian?" asked Ginny. She had entered the room, from her bedroom. Apparently she had been sleeping, she still had on a nightgown, very transparent. Her lovely body was visible beneath, and Earl could not help but look through the material. Ginny didn't mind, didn't even seem to notice. She repeated her question, walking across the room. "Where is Sebastian?"
"Still in Boston, as far as I know," Dreggs told her.
"And you stole his girl from him? That's funny. I can't imagine that happening. Was he surprised? Or did he just laugh? I bet that he just laughed and found another."
Earl said, "I didn't steal her from him. They had already split up, and he was gone."
"So you got his leftovers?"
"I suppose. Let's not talk about that," he said.
Ginny sat across the table, leaned toward him. Dreggs was very conscious of her breasts, straining under the flimsy nightgown. Ginny said, "Don't feel bad, Earl, I've been treated worse than you ever have, by Sebastian Wolff. I hate him so much I can taste it."
"You have every right," he said.
"But I need him, Earl. Will he be back?"
Dreggs shrugged. He said, "His gear is at Christine's. He most-likely will come after it."
"You'd better be there when he does," Ginny told him. "You're not a woman, you don't know. But if you want to keep Christine, you'd better keep Wolff away from her."
"I trust her," Earl said.
"Sure. But when you were staying here with me, you believed that I hated Wolff, didn't you? And I did, as much as I hate him now. But then he came around and I gave him everything that he wanted, and more, hating him all the while."
Dreggs looked into his cup. Ginny paused, continued, "Christine may love you, Earl, but don't be a fool. like you were when you gave him my address. He'll ruin everything for you, and for your girl. like he has for me. If only he were dead, God how I wish he were dead. But while he's alive, my life is ruined, I'll wait for him and hope for him, and I'll do anything to get him."
Ellen was nervously looking at her fingers. She had nothing to say here. She felt like an outsider among these people whose lives had been so affected by Sebastian Wolff.
Dreggs said, "If I had to live constantly in dread of Wolff, I'd have one hell of a life with Christine, wouldn't I? I can't spend the rest of my life waiting at home to make sure Sebastian doesn't show up. I'll just have to trust Christine, and I do. That's the only way."
"But not the only thing," Ginny said.
"Oh?"
"You could kill him."
Dreggs looked very carefully at her. She was not joking, and she was not pretending to joke. He said, "I wish the hell somebody would, Ginny. I couldn't."
"Then," Ginny said, "You haven't been really hurt yet."
"No, I suppose not."
Ginny got up and returned to her room. Earl watched her move sensually, from habit. He believed that she wanted no one but Wolff. He also thought that she would be capable of killing.
Ellen said softly, "She really loves him."
Dreggs nodded.
"Do you suppose, now that he is no longer with Christine, that he might come back to Ginny?"
"I don't know."
"It would be so good for her."
"No," said Earl, shaking his head, "No, Sebastian has never been good for anyone. He would just ruin he more than he has already."
Ellen nodded. Dreggs finished his coffee, stood up; he said, "I've got to go. I probably won't see you again. You're a very nice girl, and I hone things work out better for you than they have for many people. For Ginny. For everyone who knows Wolff."
"Yes. I hope things gc right for you too," she said.
Earl kissed, her on the forehead once more, and left. Ellen went to the phone and called long distance to Tom. She had not spoken to him since the night that he had bought Sebastian. He had written several times, and called once, but Ellen had not answered the letters and refused the call. Now she called him, and waited.
"Hello," he said.
"Hello, Tom," Ellen said. "How are you?"
"Ellie? Where are you?"
"At my apartment. In New York."
"Why haven't you written? And why didn't you talk when I called? What's been going on down there, anyway?"
Ellen sighed. She put the telephone down very gently in its cradle, breaking the connection. Then she lit a cigarette.
"Hell," she said.
Earl walked back to Christine's. She had gathered all of Wolff's belongings, and they were not in sight. Earl brought in his suitcase, and she opened it and hung his clothes in the closet, put his shaving equipment in the bathroom, his toothbrush beside the sink.
"I don't have much," Earl said.
"You have all that I want," Christine told him.
"I hope so."
She came and sat next to him, curling her legs up and resting her head on his shoulder. She said, "We can be so happy together. If only people will leave us alone. If my father doesn't interfere in our lives..."
"Or Sebastian."
"Sebastian can't interfere, Darling. The only part he played in either of our lives was to bring us together. He doesn't even exist for us any longer, because we have no need of him."
"I don't want to ever see him again," Earl said. "The hell with the money. It's not worth seeing him. I know that if he showed up, something would happen. I can feel it."
Christine said, "It's women are supposed to have the intuition, not men. And I don't feel a thing about him, I know nothing would happen to us. Nothing can ever come between us now."
"I've seen him screw up too many lives already," Dreggs told her. "I guess I'm being stupid about it, but I'm afraid of Sebastian. He can ruin more happiness than any man alive."
"I can see that. But not us, he can't hurt us. Not ever, what we have is beyond even Sebastian to destroy."
Earl stroked her hair, held her. He believed her. He knew that there was nothing to fear from Wolff, he knew that Christine loved him and would be true to him. It made him very happy. He thought, I will never want any woman but Christine, as long as I live.
And he though:. , I wish we were married already. But we are together, and that is what counts. That we are together and that we are alone and that we are in love.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SEBASTIAN WOLFF WALKED down Symphony Road, a bottle of beer in one hand, his other hand in his pocket. He wasn't exactly staggering, but he was walking strangely, as if his legs were heavy. He had been drunk for a long time, and it had been a long time too since he had slept.
His hair, usually neat, was bushy and hanging over his forehead. His face was dark with beard growth, and his eyes were red. Wolff was still wearing the clothes in which he had left New York and they were torn, soiled and wrinkled.
He had achieved that hollow-stomached feeling which only several sleepless, drunken days can give, and his mind was unconcerned with all but the simplest thoughts.
It was four a. m. on a cold night, with snow falling silently and few other people on the streets. He was wearing only a light sport coat, but the cold did not bother him, as such. He shivered, but this was more from some internal cause than from the temperature. He stepped into a doorway, shielded from the wind, and lit a cigarette. Then he tipped the bottle and drained it of the last swallow of beer.
He thought, I know that I'm going to be very thirsty in a short time, and there is no place to get beer at this hour, in this uncivilized blue-law state.
He felt very tragic, a strange and new feeling for Wolff. He rather wished that someone he knew could see him and realize that Sebastian Wolff was a tragic hero. He shook his head, and shivered. Enough was enough, it was time to end the tragedy.
There was a telephone a few doors down, in front of a small store with a red front. Wolff walked to it, entered, and shut the door against the wind. The light inside did not work, and he looked in the phone-book by the glare of his cigarette, drawing on it to brighten the light and running his eye down the page as the glow lessened; repeating the process. The booth filled with smoke and made it harder to see through his already blurry eyes. But finally he found the number he wanted, put his dime in, and dialed. While the phone rang, he lit his wristwatch by the glare from his cigarette, and saw that it was after four. The hell, he said aloud, let them wake up. I'm awake, who cares what time it is?
The telephone rang seventeen times. Sebastian was prepared to let it ring all night, and was just in the process of lighting another cigarette when a sleepy voice answered.
"I want Christine," Wolff said.
"Who?" asked William Alexandre.
"Christine. Put Chris on."
"Who is this?"
"Sebastian Wolff. I want to speak to Christine. It is very important that I speak to her his minute."
There was a long pause. Then Alexandre asked, "Do you have any idea of the time, young man?"
"I know exactly what time it is. Now, if you will put Christine on, I will appreciate it."
"She's not here. She returned to New York with her fianc'. Who are you, what do you want?"
"Fianc'? No, I am her fianc'," Wolff said, not quite understanding what he had heard.
"I believe you are drunk. I'm hanging up now. If this is really a serious call you can call again at a decent hour, and please try to be sober."
"Wait," said Sebastian, and his voice was enough to hold Alexandre on the other end of the wire. "Who is her fianc'?"
"Mr. Dreggs, from New York City."
Wolff pursed his lips into the phone. He put it back on the hook and lit the cigarette which was still dangling, unfired, from his mouth. Then he laughed and said, "I'll be damned."
Sebastian left the booth and continued his heavy-legged walk down the street. By the time he reached the corner, he had decided what he was going to do. He hailed the first cab he saw.
"I'm damned to hell," he told the driver.
Wolff got off the bus in New York feeling much more sober. He had fallen into a semi-sleep during the ride, and it had cleared his thoughts. He had acted on impulse in Boston, but he realized now what had caused him to react that way. With mixed feelings he realized that he would have gone to Christine even if there had been the most beautiful woman in the world waiting for him elsewhere. To return to a woman, with a new one waiting, would have been beyond his conception a week ago. Now he was rushing to Christine and hoping that he would be able to convince her that he loved her. And the strangest part was that he did love her.
Wolff still had his confidence, he was sure that Christine would return to him. The difference was in the effect it would have on him if she were to refuse. He wanted her very badly. He had never really wanted a woman before, not like this.
He got a cab, and went first to Cynthia's office. There were several people in the waiting room, and they looked closely at him, wondering who this could be. He ignored them and crossed to the inner office, went in without knocking.
Cynthia was alone, reading over some papers. She looked up-with a frown, recognized him, started to smile; saw his filthy and unshaven appearance and frowned again.
"You look like hell," she told him.
"That's not important," Sebastian said. "What about those poems, have you had any luck?"
"Of course. I told you that I would. But what has happened to you? You'd better use the washroom and clean up before you do anything else." She nodded at a small, clouded-glass door.
"Cynthia, I haven't time. I have to do something, right away. The most important thing I've ever done. I'll come hack as soon as it's done and see you, but right now I haven't time for anything."
She looked closely at him. "Yes, you look like it's the most important thing of your life. I've never seen you like this. You really will come back to me?"
"Yes."
"I don't believe you. But what's the difference?" Cynthia said, with a weary smile. "Here is a check for two of the poems and a letter from the editor saying how good they are, and when they will be printed. This should satisfy your ... friend?"
"Thank you, Cindy," said Sebastian. He kissed her, turned and left. Cynthia watched him, certain that she had seen Sebastian Wolff for the last time, although she couldn't have said why.
Wolff's cab was waiting. He got in and gave Christine's address. He sat back, anxious, thinking that the ride was taking much too long. When they finally got there he paid the driver and rushed into the building. Then at the foot of the stairs he stopped. There was, suddenly, no hurry. He felt that he should plan, be prepared, know just what he was going to say to her.
But Sebastian had never planned a conversation in his life. It was too late to start now. He climbed the stairs feeling a knot in his stomach and knocked on her door as soon as he reached it, without thinking about it. He heard her coming, then the door was opened.
"Hello, Sebastian. Have you come for your things?"
He entered. Christine looked at him, with no anger, no love ... no apparent feeling at all. Wolff handed her the check and the letter.
She read it quickly, glancing at the check. Then, looking at Wolff, she said, "How silly poetry seems now."
He nodded. "Do vou still love me?" he asked.
"Yes, I still love you," Christine answered. "But that doesn't matter now. I'll never be yours again, Sebastian, whether I love you or not. I'm going to marry Earl."
Wolff turned away, saw himself in the mirror and realized how wasted he was. He ran one hand through his tangled hair, gathering his thoughts, then he turned back to Christine and put a hand on each of her shoulders. He could feel her tremble under his touch, and his confidence returned in one surging rush. He smiled with his teeth.
"I want you to listen to me now, and don't interrupt," he said. "I love you. I loved you before, but I was a fool. I won't let the fact that I am a fool ruin both our lives. If you marry Earl you'll be miserable, I'll be miserable ... even Earl will be, he will know sooner or later that it's me whom you really love.
"When that thing happened in Boston. I was a fool to go with Maryanne, and a worse fool to walk out on you later, when you needed me. If I hadn't loved you so much, I wouldn't have, I would have laughed it off. The very fact that I was hurt enough to leave proves that I loved you even then. But I didn't realize how much, at the time, I was numb with feeling, numb from seeing you there.
"I'll never make that mistake again. We're getting married, right now, we're leaving for the nearest state where we can be married without waiting. I'm such a fool, I won't take a chance on screwing things up again between us. I love you so much.
He stopped, still holding her shoulders, and looked in her eyes. She was frightened of him, or of herself, or perhaps it was of the great emotion that filled her. She said, "I won't go with you."
Sebastian hit her across the face, snapping her head savagely to the side. When she turned back to him, tears had started in her eyes. She looked at him a second, and then buried her face against his chest and burst into convulsive sobbing. He stood very still, letting her cry for a long while. Then he pushed her head back and looked at her with his eyebrows raised in question.
"I'll go wherever you want," she said.
Sebastian lifted her from the floor, holding her easily in his arms, and carried her into the bedroom. She clung to his neck, still sobbing. He put her on the bed and very carefully undressed her, taking her clothes off piece by piece, and placing them neatly beside the bed. She watched him throughout, her tears stopping slowly.
When she was naked, Sebastian undressed himself, ripping at his clothing. He said, "I'm very dirty, I'm sorry. It's been a long time since my last bath."
Christine said, "I want you, in any condition, clean or dirty. I'm so sorry that I ever had another man, sorry that anyone else has ever touched me. I want to belong to you completely."
Wolff lay down beside her. He ran his fingers along her body, electrifying her with his touch. She clung to him, blindly, wanting to become part of him, to give him her soul.
Sebastian kissed her, once, and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He said, "Chris ... wait. I want this to be so right, to be perfect. Wait a moment."
He went into the bathroom and Christine listened to the sound of the shower starting. She thought, has Sebastian Wolff ever bothered to bathe for a woman before? I don't want to wait, I want him now. But I'm glad that he would do this for me.
She got up and followed him into the bath. He was under the shower, his muscular body glistening with the water, and Chrisdne watched him in silence for a moment. Then she stepped in the shower behind him, and put her arms around his waist.
Sebastian turned to face her. Their bodies were slippery together, and warm. She said, "I can't wait, my darling."
He moved his hands on her, sliding on her wet, smooth skin. Building her desire to a fever pitch. And with it, his own.
Christine held him, fondled him. She said, "Take me here, right here," and pressed herself upwards against his body. Sebastian's knees bent, he lowered himself to her, then rose again, lifting her with his arms and his loins.
And she moved her body, undulating on him, seeking a deeper and deeper passion, faster and faster.
Christine threw herself forward, in a frenzy, and Sebastian met her with an equal need of his own.
Again and again.
The water continued to fall, running in rivulets down their tensed flesh, stinging them, driving them.
And then, Sebastian was the waterfall.
For one brief, blinding moment of surging power.
They became one.
Sebastian and Christine lay naked on the bed. Their bodies were still wet, and they clung together. Christine's flesh white, smooth. Sebastian's dark, matted with black hair.
Christine said, "Earl will be here soon. I would rather that I told him alone, Sebastian."
"Whatever you want," he said, "I'll wait in the coffee shop on the corner until he leaves."
"I hate to have you leave," she said, "Even for a second. But I owe Earl at least that much."
Wolff nodded. "Yes, I guess we do. I'll get dressed now." He got up and dressed, putting on clean clothes from his suitcase. Then he shaved and brushed his hair.
He felt better now that he was cleaned up. He felt much better, now that he knew Christine was his. He felt better, in fact, than he had. ever felt before.
Sebastian kissed her and left, whistling. He went down the stairs, and up to the corner; sat in a booth, where he could see the street outside, without being very easily seen from there. He waited for ten minutes, saw Dreggs go by.
Sebastian watched him out of sight, then turned back to his coffee. He thought, I hope that poor bastard doesn't love her as much as I do, he'll kill himself when he finds out. What a shame that to make one man happy, another man must be sad. I never thought of this before. But when I thought I might lose Chris ... he stopped his thoughts on the subject, smiling at himself, and wondering if he were the same man he had always been. Funny what love will do, he said.
Then he drank his coffee and waited.
It was perhaps fifteen minutes later when Sebastian looked out and saw Deggs pass by again, going in the opposite direction away from Christine's partment. Earl was walking rapidly, head down and lips drawn back from his teeth. It would have been impossible to guess what the man's feelings were, if one had no idea of what had just occurred; but it was obvious that he was experiencing a strong emotion.
Wolff sat, frowning and stroking his chin, for another few minutes. Then he got up, leaving a coin on the table beside his empty cup and went back to Christine.
The door was open, Chris was pouring coffee for herself, filled another cup for Sebastian. They sat at the table, and he waited, but she apparently wasn't going to mention what had happened when Dreggs had been there.
Normally Wolff would not have cared enough to ask. He was not a curious man even when things concerned him, and this was between Chris and Dreggs; he didn't consider himself affected by it. But for some reason-perhaps his real love for Chris, perhaps a genuine feeling for Dreggs, perhaps only his inability to decipher the expression on Earl's face as the latter had walked by the coffee shop-Sebastian wanted to know what had happened.
"What did Earl say?" lie asked.
"It was strange," Christine answered, as though she had been prepared to tell the story as soon as Wolff asked, and was just waiting for his question. "He didn't seem surprised or hurt. He didn't seem to feel anything, in fact. It affected me more than if he had raved or cursed or even if he had cried."
Wolff nodded. "That's natural," he said, "If he had shown some emotion which you could have thought of as weak, or otherwise have despised, it would have given you reason not to feel pity for him. This way you had no emotion of your own to use as a crutch. It must have been a hard thing to do, Earl's a nice guy."
"Yes. He just looked, blinked a couple of times, then said, "That's all right. Don't worry about it. I felt pretty bad, waiting for him to do something. Then all he did was to ask if he could leave his clothes here until he gets through work."
She explained, "He was just coming home for dinner. He had to go back and work until the store "loses this evening. He said that he will get his things then."
"Do I have to go out again?" Wolff asked, grimacing.
"No, the hard part is over, I'd rather have you here."
"Good. I'd like to say goodbye to Earl, at least for a while. Let's leave tonight, as soon as he goes, and we can be married tomorrow. I'm such a damn fool. I don't want to delay any longer than necessary. I don't want to chance losing you again."
She smiled, and took his hand across the table. Christine was very happy. She was much too happy to worry about Earl Dreggs, sorry as she felt about him.
And Sebastian Wolff was happy too. He was deciding that to have one woman whom he loved would be enough; that the reason he had always had so many was that he had never really loved one before. He felt absolutely sure that he would never feel the need to be faithful to Christine again.
He was rather glad that Dreggs would be back later. Wolff wanted to tell him that he had stolen his last woman, from Dreggs or from any other man. It would be a hard thing to phrase, especially to the man from whom he had so often taken women with never a thought about it. It would have to be almost an apology, and to apologize was something which Sebastian had never done. Still he hated to explain what he felt to Earl Dreggs in some way.
He thought that, for some reason, it would make Dreggs happy.
Dreggs left Christine feeling much the same as lie had when Sebastian had taken Ginny from him. It was getting to be a very familiar feeling. But although the physical characteristics were the same, the effect on Earl as a person was different.
He thought of all the times he dwelt in the shadow of Sebastian's dominance. And had suffered from Wolff's attraction to women, and for women.
Pictures flashed in his mind. He saw Ginny, dark-skinned, soft, voluptuously curved ... a body which about it.
He took the gun from beneath the counter and placed it under his shirt, tucking it into his pants.
It was a small gun, a thirty-two with a snub nose. To be used in case of a robbery attempt, the owner had told him jokingly. There had never been the faintest idea in the owner's mind that the gun would be used, and he had laughed at himself for buying it. Nevertheless he had, and so it stayed under the counted until Earl Dreggs put it carefully under his shirt, blousing the material around it so that it didn't show.
He finished the evening, automatically taking money, making change, directing customers to the books they sought. At eleven-thirty the owner said, "Well, let's close up for the night."
He didn't notice that the gun was missing. He probably world not notice for days. They locked the door, and in the street the owner said, "You're doing a good job, Dreggs. Glad to have you working here. Hope you'll be around for a while."
"I imagine I shall," Earl said.
The owner nodded and headed off in his own direction. Dreggs watched him go down the crowded street, then walked the other way. He felt a very great need for a drink and stopped at the first bar he came to, just around the corner from Christine's.
He drank two bourbons very fast, and then he drank two more, slowly. He could feel the warmth in his stomach, and felt the tenseness loosening in his nerves. His hands had been very cold and shivering, but the alcohol steadied them so that they no longer hung, large and chilly, like weights from the ends of his arms.
Earl ordered one more, his fifth, and worked it very carefully down,' wondering why the drinks had had no effect on his brain. He felt very, very rational. With his new rationalization he approached the problem.
Whom should he kill?
Sebastian Wolff?
Or Christine Alexandre?
Or himself?
He considered the alternatives for a moment, then decided that he didn't care. He finished the shot and had it filled again. It took a long time to drink this last one. The bourbon didn't taste so good, now that he was calm and warm. When he finally emptied the glass, Dreggs got up and walked out, very steady and straight. The bartender waved goodbye at his back, but Earl didn't know this.
He went around the corner and entered Christine's apartment building, checking the number over the door to make sure that it was the right one. Then he climbed the stairs, pausing at the first landing to rub his temples, which seemed to be throbbing strongly.
On Christine's door Earl went down to her apartment and stopped at the door. There was no sound from within, but he could see a sheet of light from under the door. The hall, other than this light, was very dark.
Standing there, in the blackness, he could feel his hands grow cold again. And large. They seemed to be heavy chunks of ice attached to his arms. He wished that he had something to use them for, something to do with them.
Then he remembered the gun.
Earl took it from under his shirt. He could not see it in the dark, but it felt good. Cold and hard. It felt very good, standing in this cold black hall, to have a gun in one's hand.
