As it turned out, Melanie did let Brad and Asher stay
the night at her apartment. Brad was relieved to find that
Asher's erotic negligee fantasy did not come to pass, simply
because when he was lucky enough to see her in something
sexy, he wanted them to be alone. Yet even with Asher
sleeping on the floor, across the living room from him, Brad
had a hard time sleeping, knowing that Melanie was right
down the hall. Every time he tried to close his eyes, he'd
see her lying on her bed... alone. He hoped that she was as
uncomfortable as he. He fantasized that she was tossing and
turning between the sheets, thinking of him.
Sunday morning arrived too early for Brad, even though
he had slept until eight. Asher, of course, had risen at
six. He had wanted to do something rude like bang some pots
and pans over Brad's head, but he decided to be a gracious
guest and let Melanie sleep. When she stepped into the
kitchen (wearing a thick housecoat and fuzzy animal
slippers), she found Asher had already showered, dressed,
and started breakfast. He apologized for making himself at
home, then prepared Melanie four of the most incredible
homemade pancakes she'd ever tasted.
He hinted that it was time to wake 'Sleeping Beauty,'
but Melanie came to Brad's rescue by asking Asher to let him
sleep. Asher obliged, until she excused herself to take a
shower. He crept into the living room, knelt beside Brad,
and whispered softly: "Oh, Bradly... Wake-up..."
Brad stirred, slightly, then rolled to face the back of
the couch. "Hey, Dartmouth... Son, you blew it. Melanie's
already up: and you should have seen her gown. Cut low in
the front, and high on the sides. You should have seen her
thighs!"
"She's in the shower right now. Can you hear the water
spraying on her naked body? Can you see the drops of
moisture forming on the shoulders, as she lets the spray
soak her long golden curls? Now the drops are slipping
across her skin joining into a stream..."
"Asher. Leave me alone."
"The stream rolls off her soft, tanned shoulders, and
trickles along her breasts. It follows the contours of her
body, merging with another stream as it falls through her
cleavage, plunging like a waterfall across her firm
stomach."
"Asher, you're pissing me off."
"The waterfall falls silently on her soft, curled,
pubic hair following them ever downward to her moist and
waiting--" Brad spun on the coach, and nearly planted his
right fist on Asher's left temple. With reflexes honed by
years of work and practice, Asher caught Brad's arm,
redirected its motion toward the floor in such a way that
the rest of Brad's body couldn't help but follow. He hit
the floor with a thud, and found himself in an armlock hold.
"Now, I don't see why you're mad at me. If you want
the chic so bad, go on in there and take her. She's in the
shower... She's helpless... She did invite you to spend
the night... Come on, what have you got to loose?" Brad
wanted Melanie so bad, it hurt. He knew she wanted him,
too. At the time, he wasn't sure why Asher was getting on
his nerves with his erotic descriptions: he was just saying
what Brad was thinking.
"You'll leave us alone?"
"Sure. You get first shot. If you don't mind, I'll
take what's left." Asher released his hold on Brad's arm,
and Brad rose to his feet. "Go ahead, son, she's either
waiting for you... or she's teasing you. Either way, she
deserves it."
Brad reached for one of his pennyloafers, slapped the
heel of the shoe in his palm, and thought that it would do
nicely. He turned for the hall, continued to spin and duck,
and hit Asher on the wrist with the shoe. Asher yelled, but
before he could react, Brad stomped his left foot, and
brought the shoe down on the crown of Asher's head.
For a moment, Asher danced around the room on one foot
holding his head, and cursing up a storm. Brad approached
him with the shoe cocked and ready for another blow. "Okay!
Okay! No more games, you win." Brad smiled victoriously.
"But don't get cocky, you shit. The only reason I don't
tear-out your lungs is because it's not wise to kill your
employer."
"Mark my words, Asher: if you touch that girl... I'll
get you one way or another."
Asher laughed and offered to make Brad some pancakes.
Brad reluctantly accepted, but was secretly concerned about
the man's ability as a cook. He found that his concerns
were well founded, as the pancakes were lumpy and slightly
burnt. Melanie emerged from the bathroom, wearing blue
jeans and a UNLV sweatshirt. Brad couldn't help but notice
that not even the baggy sweat shirt could hide the beauty of
her body.
"I thought I heard someone yell. You didn't wake Brad
up, did you Carl?" she asked as she put on her sneakers.
"Who me? You're accusing me of this? Dartmouth
attacked me with his shoe! It was terrible! He abused me,
beat me, treated me like a dog. Not only that, but he hurt
my feelings."
"Poor Carl, you probably deserved and enjoyed it."
Asher laughed, and Brad excused himself to the shower before
he embarrassed himself by blushing.
He bathed quickly, and changed into a borrowed set of
clothes that fit neither Brad's body or his personality. He
emerged to find Asher gone, and Melanie reading the Sunday
paper at the kitchen table. "Where's Asher?"
"He went to some small airport to pickup a pilot."
"Wilson."
"Yes." Melanie paused for a moment. "He left
instructions for us."
Brad was afraid to ask. "Oh... What?"
"I've got to pickup a rental truck, and you've got to
get somebody at the airport."
"I don't have a car."
"You can use mine, as long as you promise not to drive
it through any gates." Brad returned Melanie's smile.
"I promise."
Neither Brad nor Melanie spoke as she drove the two
miles to the truck rental lot. The silence made Brad
uneasy, but he wasn't sure what to say to break the wall of
tension that seemed to be between them. No thought entered
his mind before he realized they had arrived.
"They were suppose to open at ten," stated Melanie, as
she coasted the Mustang toward the gate that blocked the
lot.
"We're still a few minutes early," explained Brad as he
looked at his watch.
Again, the only sound inside the car was the deep,
moaning, idle of the V-8 engine. "Brad, do think this is
going to be dangerous?"
"Asher thinks we can get in and out without firing a
shot."
"What if you do have to shoot? Will all this be worth
it if you have to kill someone?"
"Melanie, this is the biggest story in the world: a
cover-up that's been going on for almost fifty years. It's
my duty to society to expose it... no matter what the cost."
"Would you be doing this even if you weren't going to
get rich and famous?"
"Of course," answered Brad without thinking. "This is
too big to let the government get away with. You're not
getting cold feet, are you?"
"As long as you're sure this is the right thing to do,
I'm with you all the way," stated Melanie. She watched as
an attendant pushed the gate open and motioned her through.
After she had parked the car, Brad stepped and met
Melanie at the driver's side door. "Do you want me to help
you get the truck?"
"No, you need to head to the airport. I'll see you
back at the office," she said, and she handed him the key.
In the back of his mind, Brad heard Asher's voice asking
what he had to loose. He knew what he would have lost then,
and knew what he would lose now. He placed his hand on the
back on Melanie's neck and drew her to him.
She returned his kiss with a fury that surprised Brad.
He slipped his other arm around her waist and squeezed her
body to his. His blood boiled, as her hand caressed his
face, and he pulled her closer to him, drawing her to her
toes. She slipped her tongue between his lips, and Brad's
mind began to wonder which of them was actually the
aggressor. Without concern for the audience that was
growing inside the rental office, Brad slid his hand up
Melanie's back and beneath her sweatshirt, enjoying the feel
of her bare skin. She pressed harder against him, and he
fell backward against the car; her body pinning him.
She kissed him one last time. Brad leaned, breathless,
against the car. Melanie pulled away slowly. "Thank you,
Brad."
Brad's senses tried to understand her statement.
"You're thanking me for a kiss?"
"No," said Melanie, letting his hand go. Brad watched
Melanie walk to the rental office, then started the car. He
left having no idea what she meant.
|
Go to Story Index |
Email Douglas Bunger | Go to Home Page |
Go to Next Chapter |