Here's the last tease of chapter 3 of From Noon Until Midnight. I hope you like it and support me by getting the novel. I have an idea for a new novel and I'll be blogging that along with some short stories.



"Tonnnyy." Rita appeared from the bedroom, wearing only the silk, ruby-red shirt that matched her nail polish and lipstick. "Is your brother gone?" Her voice cut across the silence like the shattering of glass.

She reminded me of a moth banging into a light bulb in the dead of the night. She fluttered and fluttered, getting high off its rays, not realizing that it was just a light bulb. There was nothing magical about it, but it attracted the addicted moths like catnip for a feline.

My brother's visit uprooted bad feelings that weighed on my shoulders and tired my body. If this woman in front of me were to peer into my soul, she would have seen me dangling from the edge of a cliff. If she were to outstretch her arms and surround me like a warm blanket, I would have nestled in between her breasts and unmasked countless hidden feelings. Painful words would have betrayed my trembling lips. If she then kissed me and assured me everything would be all right, I would have soaked her halfway unbuttoned ruby-red, silk shirt until I exhausted the salt in my tears. I would have done all this because I missed my mother.

I reached for Rita, and she kissed me like a lover. She caressed me like a lover and gasped like a lover. My role was clear. I unbuttoned her shirt, let it drift to the floor, and carried her off to bed. I was there for her as much as she was there for me. Rita wasn't here to help me remember but to help me forget. I wallowed in her misery and she in mine. Floating across her body, my hands worked out the knotted kinks. She screamed in ecstasy when I entered her. I was intoxicated by her, and I poured her in me and on me like a gluttonous wino. Like a man, I made her want me. Like a man, I made her lose control until she cried. Like a man, I forgot whatever there was to forget and slept soundly, without regret.

***

Rays of sunlight awoke me from a dreamless state like a distant noise. I felt as if I had slept naked on the beach. As if I needed a shower to cleanse away all the dried up moisture, dirt, and debris that covered me. Rita was still asleep on her stomach, and I wanted her to leave. She gave me a sheepish grin when I nudged her shoulder to revive her from her slumber.

"Good morning, baby."

"Mmm, good morning," she said, and then stretched like a cat.

I cracked my neck and hinted, "Hey, I didn't realize how late it was, but I have to do a ton of errands for my father."

Her eyes widened, and the smile turned sour. She knew the process of being dumped. She was new to me; I hadn't known her very long. When she first entered the office, I observed the way the other guys looked at her. They were all very nice and sensitive to her. It was all a game in order to get into her skirt. I never tried too hard. I only wanted her to notice me, then let her think the attraction was completely from her. Women wanted what they couldn't have.

"I know how this must look, but I wouldn't play you like that. I really do have to get ready and … you know …"

"Oh, yeah. No problem." She reached for her clothes on the floor before getting off the bed. Covering her nakedness, she scattered to the bathroom to get dressed.

I cleared the sleep from my eyes, put on my boxers, and went to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. The floor was cold as I crossed it to separate myself from her. A few lingering moments later, her heels clicked across the hardwood floor. She walked as if she had a plane to catch. I attempted to walk her out, but she beat me to the door and slammed it before I could get out of the kitchen. I didn't even make eye contact with her. Locking the door behind her, I waited for her car to peel off before dragging myself into the bedroom to assess damages.

I bundled my clothes with the sheets and blanket in the corner to wash later. I looked for anything that could have been left as a calling card—the back of an earring, a tube of lipstick, a bobby pin. Most women were notorious for marking their territory for other women to take heed. I located the used Trojan on the floor. It was the last remembrance of the evening. Picking it up by its rim, I carried it into the bathroom for disposal. I turned on the light to see "Fuck You Tony" written in ruby red lipstick on my mirror. I sighed, then dropped the condom into the toilet. It plunked like a penny in a wishing well before I flushed it down the drain.


Peace to you all,
Chris