Straits of Fortune - Anthony Gagliano [78]
Then the light was off, and I felt Vivian against me, breathing into my ear like a cat anxious to be fed. She began undoing my shirt, and I told her to just let me sleep, but I didn’t push her hand away. There was no need to be nasty about it simply because I was three-quarters dead from exhaustion and needed rest far more than anyone had ever needed sex in the whole history of the world. She had lied to me, betrayed me, and nearly gotten me killed. It was enough to make a man bitter. I was bitter. I was bitter as hell. She was tugging my shirt out of my trousers; her hand felt like a roving butterfly fluttering against the hairs on my chest. Soon I began thinking that there were times in a man’s life when he has to let bygones be bygones, so I kicked off my shoes and began to cooperate with the situation.
“You’ll sleep better if you let me relax you,” she said.
“I have been under a lot of stress lately,” I told her.
“Lie back, Jack,” she said
I found that fairly easy to do. After a second I sat up on my elbows and watched her black hair slide down my stomach like a retreating wave. I reached down and got a fistful of it and lifted her head. Her eyes were already as glazed over as they’d been in Matson’s little movie. A thought came to me.
“You’re on it, aren’t you?”
“What?”
“The Morphitrex.”
By way of answer, she moistened her already moist lips with her tongue and lowered her head, and I left her to her work. After a while she straddled me like a cowgirl and began to surge back and forth, her dark hair whipping around like the shadow of a condor. I held on to her hips for dear life and wondered if she was still human. I was afraid she might actually turn into something else, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to be under her when it happened. She grabbed the top of the headboard and rocked and screamed and howled like a thunderstorm trying to rip itself free from the sky.
Time passed. There was a pool of sweat at the center of my chest, and Vivian was making soft swirls in it with her index finger. The room had cooled off, and the sheets were warm and luxurious against my back. It would have been a fine way to end the night if only the day preceding it had been different. There’s something about having the cops after you that puts a damper on things.
“The drug,” I said. “How does it work?”
“I don’t know. It’s the weirdest shit I’ve ever taken, weirder even than peyote or mushrooms. It’s like it listens to you. It knows what you want. You want something to speed you up, then that’s what it does. If you want to chill out and look at a brick wall, then that wall will be the most beautiful thing in the world. I’m telling you, Jack, the stuff is unbelievable. Even Williams has taken it. I only use it for sex.”
“I never thought you needed any help.”
“Not with you, but even so, it just makes everything more intense. You’re not complaining, are you?”
“What does Williams use it for, to grow back his hair?”
“Strength, endurance. He told me once that it was the best drug he’s had since Vietnam.”
“Maybe they can use that for the advertising campaign.”
“There won’t be one. It will all be word of mouth. That’s the way ecstasy got started. The next thing you know, it’s worth twenty dollars a pill—more, once people realize what it’s like.”
“I guess this would be a good time to talk about money,” I said.
“What do you have in mind?” Vivian asked.
I ignored her question. I was almost enjoying myself. “Williams will catch on eventually that the Colonel has been squeezed out of the play, and he won’t like it very much. Also, he knows I’m alive now. He won’t like that either, which means he’ll be coming after all three of us. I’ll probably have to kill him. I’ll have to be compensated for that. I’ve gone through a lot of trouble for your family. It’s time for the payoff.”
She tensed up at that, but only for a moment. She’d told me once that her entire body was a G-spot, but the only one I had never probed was the one in her bank account.