A Little Yearning Ch. 11

"If you could stay for a while, I would be very grateful," he said, pressing the money into her hand. He looked at her closely. "You seem familiar to me. Do I know you?"

"I don't think so," she said, but then it came to her. She hadn't recognized him at first without the peaked hat and shades, but it was the limo driver. She'd talked to him out back of the Hamburger Hut with Katie the other day. "Well, the kitchen's closed but I guess I could find you some coffee. Come on, then." She locked the door behind them and led them to a booth with a wrap-around bench in the back near the kitchen out of sight of the entrance. "My name's Anita." The bass notes from the band across the hall were making the floor vibrate, but the restaurant felt peaceful with the lights dimmed.

Anita went back to the kitchen. Hailey took her purse from where Carlos had placed it on the table. As she opened it up, Carlos caught a glimpse of a small nickel-plated pistol. There was also a hip flask, a fat roll of bills and the usual jumble of cosmetics, brushes and bottles.

He reached over and picked up the small gun.

"Oh, that," she said. "Frank gave me that for protection. It's not loaded, though. You don't think I'd shoot somebody? I took the bullets out."

Carlos dropped the magazine and checked it was empty, then he racked the slide. He deftly caught the cartridge which ejected from the chamber, then slipped the gun back into her bag.

"Oh, my face is a mess," she said mournfully, dabbing at her eyes with a cotton ball. "Ouch!" She put her finger to her lips. The mirror of her compact was broken.

Anita had just come back with their coffee. "You just wait here, I'll take care of you," she said to Hailey. She went into the kitchen and came back with a hot washcloth and towel. She sat down beside Hailey on the bench. "Let me do that, honey," she said, gently wiping at her cheeks and brow with the washcloth and then patting it dry. "Boy, I'd hate to see what the other guy looks like."

Hailey shot a glance at Carlos. For the first time, Anita noticed the scratch marks on his cheek. "Oh," she said, "I'm sorry. Did I stick my foot in?"

Hailey laughed. "No, we're friends now, I guess."

"I'll just finished straightening up then. Call me if you need anything," Anita said, going back through the swinging door to the kitchen.

Carlos took the chased silver hipflask from her purse. He unscrewed the top. Tequila, it smelled like. He poured a slug into his coffee.

Hailey took a sip of her coffee. "Give me some of that," she said.

"This was full. What were you drinking before?"

"Martinis."

"You shouldn't mix them. You'll get sick."

She took the flask and poured a generous shot in her coffee. "I thought the idea was to get me to drink some coffee. Here, I'm drinking it, all right?" She sipped some and then made a face. "Must be an acquired taste."

"It's not so bad," Carlos said, tasting his. "I am from Columbia. When I say this to Nortenos, they say to me, 'But the coffee in Columbia, it is famous. It must be much better down there, no?' But I tell them, 'No. All the good beans, they sell to the North. If want a good cup of Columbian coffee, you must come to U.S.A.'"

Hailey laughed. "Do you miss it, your home?"

He tugged at his collar to reveal the blurry blue tattoo on his neck. "I was in prison there. This is not a happy place."

"That's terrible. What did you do?"

Carlos regarded her for a long moment. Men didn't ask that question.

"You don't want to talk about it?" she asked, sliding a bit closer to him on the bench.

He shrugged. He pointed to the counter next to the swinging door that led to the kitchen where there was a jumble of accessories--mixing bowls, spoons, cutting boards, etc. "You see those big pepper grinders over there? In my country we call that a 'Rubirosa.' You have heard of Porfirio Rubirosa. no? A very famous man in Latin America. Lover, playboy, race car driver, diplomat, polo player. . . One day, he is driving his Ferrari in Paris. He has fifty-six years of age and has just married his fifth wife, a nineteen year old French movie actress. He run into a tree and kill himself. It is July 5, 1965. You wonder how I remember this date? That is easy, for that is the day I am born.

"Now, I don't believe in what they call reincarnation. I am a good Catholic. But sometimes I wonder, you know, because all my life I been like a poor man's Rubirosa.

"As a boy, I grow up in the jungle. My father was a famous curandero. One day it happens that I am guiding Don Emilio and his guest, a foreign doctor, deep in the jungle. Don Emilio, he is a big man, very important; he is not the Presidente, no, but he rule what is like a small country down there with absolute power. Dr. de Rubempre, he is looking for medicine. They are attacked by a black cayman and their canoe, it capsizes. The guards, they dare not shoot. I jump in the water with my machete and save them." Carlos pulled up his sleeve to show her a ragged scar that wrapped around his left arm from his wrist to his elbow.

"Gosh," Hailey said, tracing the marks lightly with her fingertip.

"After that, the Don love me like a son. He take me into his house and train me as a soldier. He make of me one of his bodyguards. Now, Don Emilio, he has a daughter younger than me, a very beautiful girl, Graciela. A good Catholic girl. We fall in love. This is very sad, of course. I am indio, you know, so I am not a suitable one for marriage to such as she. But we are young and foolish. We run away together. We have three days, three wonderful days. Then they find us. They bring us back. Don Emilio, his rage is terrible. He beat his daughter. And as to me, he use the whip." He unbuttoned his shirt to show her the ridges of white scar tissue crisscrossing his chest and shoulders.

"Oh, my God," Hailey whispered softly, "You poor man."

"They lock me up, but I escape into the jungle. For many days I am wandering, bleeding and heart-broken. I am thinking to kill myself, but I am found by some indians. They make me well again. But I cannot abandon Graciela. I sneak back; I try to see her one more time."

"That's so romantic," Hailey exclaimed, her breast pressed against the side of his arm.

"No," he shook his head. "This is crazy. Again I am caught. This time, the big man, his anger has cooled. He say to me, 'I should kill you but I will not. That would be too kind for you.' So instead he invite me to her wedding. In handcuffs, I sit in the back between two guards, to watch her given in marriage. Then the Don throw me into prison to rot. You know, Rubirosa, he fall into the shit many times. He is arrested for murder, but released. He is caught cheating on El Flor de Oro, but Trujillo forgives him. He betrays his wives, but they shower money onto him. He fall into the shit, but he always come up smelling like a gardenia. Myself, I have not luck like this," he sighed.

Hailey listened raptly, her fingers idly playing over his chest. His skin was brown and hairless, his belly firm as a brass buddha. She scooted closer till her leg was pressed against him. He put his hand on her knee. "Did you ever see her again?"

Carlos shook his head. "She has five children now."

"That's so sad." She rested her head on his shoulder and he moved his hand up her leg. She parted her thighs and sighed as his fingers brushed her panties. For a while he did nothing more than rest them there. When he felt the warmth start to dampen, started to rub gently against the lips of her pussy. She smiled as he turned his head to kiss her, and as her lips parted and his tongue sought hers, he deftly pulled aside her panties and slid his finger deep inside her. Her hand slid down his belly to his pants and slipped inside his waist band. Her eyes flew open in surprise. "Oh, my goodness," she said, her eyes darting involuntarily across the room to the counter where the pepper mills stood in a row. She laughed. "Oh, I see."

"Do you know what I want you to do?" he asked.

There was a long pause while her hand softly explored inside his pants.

"Yes."

He looked at her.

She shook her head. "Oh, I'm a good girl. I couldn't do that." She grinned at him, her eyes glittering, her tongue showing between her parted lips. "But I bet you could make me."

When Anita finished cleaning the counters in the kitchen she took the coffee pot and went back to see if they wanted a refill. She had peeked out the porthole in the kitchen door at them occasionally, saw them talking, then his arm around the pretty woman as she snuggled closer to him. Strangely, at this she felt a little pang of jealousy. There was something about him that she found intriguing, even attractive, in spite of his formidable presence. She wondered at the twist of fate that had brought him here at this hour.

When she went back to the table, she didn't see the woman at first, and assumed she'd gone to the restroom. When she got closer, Anita saw she was sprawled across the bench, her head on his lap. He was leaning back, his arms spread, his eyes half-lidded.

"Oh," she said, taking a step back, embarrassed.

"It's O.K." he beckoned to her, "She passed out. I was just sitting here thinking about long ago."

"Would you like some more coffee?" she asked. She could hear the woman softly snoring.

"Please," he said, motioning for her to take a seat across the table. "You've been very kind. Will you take a drink with me?" He held up the flask.

"We're not allowed to drink. But technically, I'm off work now," Anita smiled. "Sure."

He emptied the dregs out of the lady's cup into the saucer and poured her a couple fingers of tequila, then added some to his own cup.

"No," he laughed as she sipped at the potent liquor. "All at once. Like this." With a flip of the wrist, he tossed it back down his throat. "Is best with some limes and salt."

She knocked back the drink and then bent forward coughing. "Oh, that burns," she said, wiping the tears from her eyes. It warmed her belly. It had been a long day and the buzz felt good.

"You know, when I first saw you at the door, I thought I knew you," Carlos said. "But now I realize it is because you look so much like someone I once knew," he said. "It is your mouth, but especially the eyes. She was someone very dear to me." Reaching across the table, he took her hand in his. "My name is Carlos."

"Carlos?"

"Yes. May I call you Graciela?"

"Who's Graciela?"

"The most beautiful girl in the world."

She laughed. "Can I have another one?" she asked him.

Anita was on her third drink by the time Hailey suddenly woke up. They had been sitting talking about this and that--sports, the weather, nothing important--feeling comfortable with each other, when the pretty blond popped up off the bench.

She looked around wildly, her face pale, eyes darting back and forth, completely disoriented. "Wha. . . I don't feel so good."

"Uh-oh," Carlos said. "Where's the bathroom? I think she's gonna be sick."

Perhaps he shouldn't have said that, Anita thought afterward. Maybe it was the power of suggestion, but no sooner had the words left his mouth than the blond retched. She put her hand up in a futile gesture to hold it back but all that did was to redirect the vile torrent that came gushing from her mouth. It went everywhere. It spewed down the front of her designer dress, slopped onto on Carlos' shirt and lap and spattered across the table onto Anita's uniform. It was over in an instant, and then Hailey sank back onto the bench and began to cry.

"Shit! I am so fired!" Anita exclaimed, jumping up to dab ineffectually at her uniform with a napkin. "Just look at this mess! I've only been working here a week. I really need this job."

"It's O.K." Carlos shrugged imperturbably. He looked in his coffee cup and then pushed it aside. "It's all right, now, Hailey." He patted the blond on the shoulder. "You just stay right there." He turned to Anita and said. "I am sorry for this. I will take charge of it. Do not to be worried. You got cleaning stuff in the kitchen, right? Rags, a mop, bucket? I will clean up the mess. I am going to clean it up so good they will never know anything happened. I am much practiced in cleaning up messes, believe me. But I need you to take care of her," he nodded at Hailey. "Here's the key to my room. It's close. You take her there and get her cleaned up, all right? You too. Here," he peeled off a bunch of bills from Hailey's roll and handed them to her. "For your trouble."

Anita wondered what it would take to rattle this guy. But she felt reassured. "O.K.," she nodded.

They got Hailey up off the bench. Anita used the small hand towel to brush off the worst of the mess right there. She gave Carlos her restaurant key and he let them out, locking the door after them. Taking Hailey's hand, she guided her across the lobby. They drew some stares but no one came over to them. Hailey had her eyes cast down, her mouth drawn tight. She was gripping Anita's hand like a life preserver. Fortunately, they were alone in the elevator to the first floor. Anita wrinkled her nose. In the close space they reeked. It wasn't far to Carlos' room.

Anita threw the key and Hailey's bag onto the dresser and led Hailey straight into the bathroom. After turning on the shower and adjusting the temperature, she sat Hailey down on the toilet seat and took off her shoes. She toed off her own soft-soled work shoes then pulled Hailey into the shower stall with her, fully dressed. They stood for a while, just letting the warm water cascade over them, washing the mess off their clothes and out of their hair. Hailey sighed and then started to laugh, turning under the spray, and then Anita did too. Things could be worse, she thought. At least she wasn't stuck cleaning up the mess.

"I think your dress is probably ruined," Anita ventured. "Dry clean only, I bet."

"I'm afraid I did that already," Hailey said. "Here," she said, turning her back to Anita, "Undo me."

Anita slid down the zipper and the tall blond pulled down her straps and wriggled out of the dress. It puddled about her feet and she kicked it into a corner of the shower stall. She turned to face Anita, shaking her hair under the jet of water and then pulling it back out of her face. She shucked off her panties and threw them on top of the dress. "That feels so much better," she said, throwing her head back to let the water splash onto her face.

Anita's rather strict upbringing had imbued her with a strong sense of modesty and she swallowed a little uncomfortably at the proximity of the flawless body. Hailey was one of those rare women who look even better without clothes than with them. The water streamed down between her full breasts and sheeted across her flat belly. Her pubes was shaved to a neat little landing strip. Her skin was an even brown without tan lines, almost as dark as Anita but a more crisp golden hue. The muscles rippled in her long legs as she shifted her stance. Her beauty was almost breathtaking for all that she wore it casually, almost carelessly. Without conscious thought, Anita reached out and touched her lightly on the arm. "You're so pretty," she said. "You should be a model."

"I tried that once. They said I wasn't skinny enough," Hailey made a moue.

"Well, I should let you get cleaned up," Anita put her hand on the door of the shower stall.

"Don't be silly. Let's get you out of that stinky frou-frou," Hailey said. She took Anita by the shoulders and turned her around and unzipped her, helping her off with the dress and then unhooking her bra. Anita felt exposed. Her mouth was dry and she had to stifle the impulse to cover her breasts, embarrassed to call attention to her strident nipples.

There was a bar of some kind of deodorant soap in the soap dish and Hailey rolled it between her hands and then started to lather Anita's back. She sighed as Hailey kneaded her shoulders, then gave a little shiver as the blond slid her hands up her sides under her arms, brushing the sides of breasts. "That tickles."

Hailey slipped her fingers into the waistband of Anita's panties and pulled them down, soaping her butt with strong fingers. Anita's pussy gave a sharp pang as Hailey's fingers delved into her crack and she gave involuntary moan, covering it up with a laugh. She turned to face the blond, batting her eyelids in the spray, and took the soap from her and started to wash her shoulders. Tentatively, she brushed over Hailey's breasts, feeling the nipples engorge under her palms. Her hands were trembling as she smoothed down Hailey's sides and stroked her belly, then came back again to her breasts. She looked Hailey in the eyes.

"That feels nice," Hailey said quietly, her voice just audible over the rush of water.

Anita slid her hands under Hailey's armpits and cupped her shoulder blades, pulling her closer. She was trembling all over now. "Hold me," she said, tilting her face up and standing on tiptoes to brush her lips against the blonde's. Hailey responded by sliding her hands down to cup Anita's butt and draw her closer. They kissed softly, lips and noses barely brushing against one another.

The water cascading over them seemed to get hotter as Anita pressed against her. She kissed her hungrily now, and her hand, seemingly of its own volition, slid down Hailey's side and across her belly to cup her pussy. Hailey caught Anita's wrist. "Wait," she said. Anita held her hand poised, feeling the heat soaking into her palm, the faintly stubbled skin of the blonde's shaved mons and the startlingly softness of her labia. The warm water trickled down between her fingers. She watched Hailey's face. Hailey had her eyes closed. Her brow was furrowed, her nostrils flared; her lips parted as she ran her tongue over them. Anita's pussy was throbbing as she ground it against Hailey's thigh.

Gradually, Hailey eased her grip on Anita's wrist. She leaned her head down till they were cheek to cheek. "I've never done this before," she whispered in her ear. She slid her hand down till it was cupped over Anita's. Anita started stroking her softly, easing the top of her palm away to let the water trickle down, gently probing with her fingertips. She could feel the lips swelling under her touch, the slit between them easing open as she worked her middle finger along it.

Hailey caught Anita's hand as she slipped her finger deep inside and held it still again. Anita could feel her heart thumping in her chest where their breasts nestled against one another. Hailey's ragged breath was warm in her ear. Holding Anita's hand locked in her grip, Hailey started to grind her pussy onto the stationary finger. "Oh my God." She turned her head and sought Anita's lips, pushing her tongue into the younger girl's mouth. Then she let go of Anita's hand and wrapped her arms around her, thrusting her pelvis forward and parting her thighs. Anita responded by pumping another finger into her, the rhythmic squishing now apparent over the white noise of the cascading water.

Hailey was gasping for air, her whole body rigid as an iron bar, each stroke of Anita's fingers ringing through her like a hammer blow, vibrating from head to toe. "Oh, Anita," she murmured. "That feels so good. Don't stop. Please, just like that. Oh, there. Oh, God. Wait. I can't take it. Oh, no, don't stop. Like that. Oh my God. Wait. Oh, God. No. Go on. Faster. Oh, yes. Now. Don't stop. No, wait. You'll make me come. Stop. Please. Oh, no, don't stop. Oh, my God, Oh, no, ooooohhhh. . ."

As Anita's fingers whipped up a froth inside of her, Hailey gulped and moaned and finally gave a high shuddering cry and all the tension ran out of her and she sagged against the smaller girl. Anita held her hand still, her fingers still deep inside. Each time she tentatively moved her hand the big blond would give a little cry and her whole body would jerk, her over-excited pussy quivering on a knife edge between pleasure and pain.