Amorous Goods: Scar Tissue

A hunger as fierce as her own. Oh, shit! suddenly came exploding into her mind. When his eyes went wide and he said, "What? What's wrong?" she realized she'd said it out loud.

"Oh, God, Greg, I'm sorry," she spluttered as she scrambled back and got to her feet, nearly falling as she backed into the coffee table.

Lina could tell she was rambling, nearly ranting, as she tried to explain something she didn't understand herself.

"I said I wanted, needed to go slow. Even though I like you, because I do. But then I'm attacking you like a high schooler going for second base. But you're not a high schooler, so why would you think it would stop there? And why should it? We're adults, we can do as we please. And I liked it. I really liked it. But how is that going slow?"

She'd worked her way free of the confining space between sofa and coffee table and paced the living room floor a couple of times before making her way to the entrance hall, where her coat and bag hung.

Greg followed and when she reached out for her coat, he grabbed her from behind and wrapped his arms around her. She started and struggled, but he held her firmly, yet still gently, and whispered, "Shh, shh," calmly into her ear. Finally, she settled back into his embrace.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled pitiably.

"It's alright," he assured her. "It's alright. You did say you wanted to take things slow. I get it. It's okay."

"It is? You do? Because I don't. I don't get myself. You look at me with such passion and instead of feeling good, I remember some other guy going too far, too fast. You put your fingers on me so gently, and I think of some jerk smooth-talking his way past my defences and then leaving me behind, crumpled like used tissue." The misery in her voice made him cringe in shame for his brutish brethren.

He tightened his arms and, thank God, she felt safe instead of scared. He understood and wanted to protect her. Her body knew it, but the scars on her heart twanged in warning.

"I should go."

Greg ached to turn her around and kiss her words and restraint away. Instead, he steeled himself, took her coat off the hook and held it open for her. He just caught the shimmer of tears in her eyes before she turned away and put her arms through the sleeves.

When she had the coat on, she started looking around distractedly, clearly not knowing what she wanted to do next.

"Uber?" he suggested.

"Yes, Uber, yes," she repeated robotically, opening her purse on the hall table, fishing out her phone, and calling up the app.

Greg had taken the high road, had resisted using words or actions to change her mind because he knew objectively that it would be better for their long-term relationship. But he couldn't hide that he wanted her. Badly.

Lina swallowed. The hungry look was back on his face. Not as intensely, more of a hungry man rather than a starving one, but still it was there. Her first inclination was to throw herself at his mercy and let him devour her. God, she wanted him to feast upon her. Her phone dinged.

"Wow, he's only two blocks away." Her voice did not sound happy about this serendipity.

He stepped into her and took her lapels in his hands. He kissed her. While his eyes were open and piercing, his lips remained closed, and soft.

"Let me know when you get home," he said with a small smile.

"I will. And Greg,--"

He put a finger to her lips. "Shush. It's alright."

Her phone dinged again; her ride had arrived.

She kissed him short but hard and left the flat.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Lina didn't trust herself to call Greg when she made it to her place, so she just texted him that she was home safe. She included a kiss-blowing emoji. Then she did place a video call, to Tory. After pouring her heart out about what she had done she was shocked to be answered with laughter.

Then she was even more shocked to hear why Tory was laughing.

"No way! You're shitting me," she declared when Tory was finished.

"I shit you not," said Tory, wicked smile filling the small screen.

"You really sucked his dick?"

"And enjoyed the hell out of it," Tory agreed.

"So, you're actually bi?"

"Hmm. Okay, when it comes purely to sex, I guess I am bi. I enjoy both types of bodies and can get off with either. But emotionally, I really only connect with women. I might fuck a man, but I can only love a woman."

"And Jason?"

"Mirror image," said Tory. "He's the only man to break into my top-ten of pussy eaters and he got rock hard from doing it. But if he were ever to go monogamous, it would definitely be with another guy."

When the call ended, Lina was even more confused than before. The confusion had her tossing and turning until she finally gave in to her strongest feelings and masturbated first to the idea of Torrid Tory in a 69 with Gay Jason and then to the fantasy of what should have happened with Greg after she'd started on his nipples.

It would have made her eventual orgasm even stronger if she'd known that across town, Greg was using the same self-treatment to ease the ache in his balls.

"By the way," said Tory during a Thursday morning coffee break. "When I was telling you about what a nice cock Jason has, did I mention that he said Greg's is even nicer?"

Lina looked around frantically, terrified that everyone would hear Tory. Then, the actual words hit her and she stared wide-eyed at her bad, bad influence of a friend.

"Don't worry," the cock-sucking lesbian chuckled. "He made it very clear that he only knew from locker room spying. He said Greg is 'distressingly straight' and he would never risk their friendship by making an unwanted move.

"But I'll tell you," she continued. "The same is not true about the many women in this town who would love to get a crack at your Prince Charming. He's obviously smitten with you, but smitten is a temporary condition, easily overcome by frustration and blue balls."

Lina opened her mouth to speak, but Tory held up a hand.

"I get it, I do. It was my shoulder you cried on in the past and it was justified. In those cases. You've learned from them and are taking precautions to avoid diving in blind. But if you're too scared to trust your own instincts, soon there won't be a pool to dive into."

CHAPTER NINE

Greg's phone pinged at 10:30. The text was a single emoji. The round, yellow face had sorrowful eyes and hands clasped mournfully in front.

He almost hit the dial button but didn't know what he would say. As soon as he'd awakened that morning, his mind had leapt to the task of dealing with Lina's fears. But within an hour, his thoughts had been overwhelmed by a blockbuster conversation with Jason.

They'd been at the gym, spotting each other through the weightlifting routine they followed to augment their swimming. He'd been about to tell his best friend and confidante about Lina's yo-yo behaviour, when Jason had hit him with something that nearly made him drop the bench press bar.

Jason had grabbed the suddenly shaky bar and guided it back into the bar catches. Greg had sat up and spun to look back at his friend, eyes wide with shock.

"C'mon," Jason had said. "You know I've been with women before, it's not like I'm a member of the He-Man Woman-Haters Club. The taste and texture of that sweet pussy and then having her thighs clamp down on your ears, who wouldn't love that? Why should you and Lina be the only ones to have that kind of fun?"

When Greg hadn't said anything, but his cheeks had taken on a reddish hue, it had been Jason's turn to gasp.

"Dude! Are you telling me you haven't? I figured you guys had been going at it since last weekend. What the hell? The fag got to the pussy before you?" He'd burst out laughing and finally Greg had had to smile too.

Greg's phone pinged again. Another single emoji, with a single word after. A dove carrying an olive branch in its beak, followed by lunch?

He replied with a thumbs up and 12:30?

A return thumbs up was accompanied by, I'll come to you this time; tell me where.

When Greg arrived at Patty's Patties, a 50's retro burger joint, Lina was already there. She'd managed to get one of the red vinyl-covered booths, giving them the most privacy possible during the busy lunch rush.

She bit back another, "I'm sorry," and just smiled hesitantly as he walked up. She felt incredibly relieved when Greg gave her a much stronger smile and bent down and kissed her lightly before sliding in across from her.

"Pretty cool place," she said.

"And they make some of the best burgers in the city," replied Greg. "Including a Portobello mushroom burger that even meat-eaters like me enjoy."

Lina went for that vegetarian option, while Greg opted for a regular cheeseburger with grilled mushrooms covered in Swiss.

As they waited for their order, Lina asked him if his firm had heard anything yet about the bid they'd made the day before to remodel a building on her side of town. Greg told her the initial feedback on their presentation was positive, but they were in waiting mode now. Finally, Lina swallowed her fear and said, "About last night."

"Lina, it's fine—"

"No," she stopped him. "It would have been fine if I hadn't freaked out, I know that. And I hope you'll give me another chance."

"Of course—"

The waitress arrived with their burgers and the conversation stopped for a couple of minutes while they dug in.

"Wow, you were right," she said after swallowing a big bite and wiping some marinade from her chin. "And the fries, too," she added before swiping one through the dish of homemade mayo.

"Have I mentioned how much I like eating with you," he smiled.

Her eyebrows scrunched in suspicion as she chewed, being sure to do it in as ladylike a manner as she could.

"I brought one date here and she ordered the portobello, but only ate half of the burger. Without the bun. After scraping off the condiments. And none of the fries."

"What? Was she a model or something?"

"A secretary," he replied. "But that dream of being a model was still alive and eating her up."

Lina took a sip of her soda, then said nonchalantly, "So, you don't bring her here anymore?"

He grinned lopsidedly. "I don't bring her anywhere anymore. We all have our little idiosyncrasies, but I want to be with someone I can relax with. Like you."

Her head dropped a little. "I wasn't so relaxed last night."

"Okay, maybe not last night." He gave her the crooked grin again. "But every other time has been so easy and...just natural, I guess. I think we can get beyond last night."

She was just about to really push things and tell him that she wanted to go way beyond last night, when she heard a familiar ringtone coming from inside her purse. She ignored it, but the sound still made the bold words dry up on her tongue.

"Ride of the Valkyries," he mused. "Sounds serious. You can take it if you need to."

"My mother," she said.

He laughed, "Your mother gets Apocalypse Now?"

She smirked a little. "I may have been a bit pissed with her when I gave her that ringtone. She's not really that bad. Most of the time."

The phone had apparently gone to voicemail after a few rings, but now the Wagner came again. He nodded at her bag with a smile, and she brought out the phone and put it to her ear.

"Sí, Mamá? Qué necesitas?" Her mother had been born in America and her English was native, but Lina's grandmother had had very little English, so the family members still communicated mostly in Spanish when speaking amongst themselves.

"Your aunt and I made some really nice flan today and thought you and Gregorio might like to have some if you came by for lunch again."

"I'm afraid it's a little too late for that, Mamá." She made herself add, "But thank you for asking," using politeness to defuse her irritation at the sisters' nosiness, because that's what it was.

Her mother's next words proved it. "Well, we'll be bringing some home tonight. Maybe you'd like to come over for dessert?"

Something made her call her mother on the ploy. She switched to English.

"I love your flan Mama but not enough to let you grill me about Gregory just to get a piece." She intentionally changed Greg's name to the American pronunciation and rolled her eyes theatrically for his benefit.

After that she hustled her mother off the phone as quickly as possible. She apologized for the interruption and took up a couple of fries to cover the moment. She didn't really taste them.

"Since you're missing out on your mother's flan, can I invite you to come over for dessert with me tonight?"

Lina almost said, Are you sure? But managed to answer, "Yes, thank you."

CHAPTER TEN

Around 2:00 that afternoon, the small bell above the shop's front door rang, and Dylan came forward from where he'd been dusting and polishing the glass cases at the rear of Amorous Goods. He'd pasted on his shopkeeper's smile as he came up the final aisle, but it turned into a very real smile when he spotted Morgana Delacroix walking toward the shop counter.

"Welcome back," he said as he stepped up and kissed the beautiful woman on both of her cheeks, European style, just as she'd taught him. "How was your trip?"

Their occult advisor had been in Europe the past month. She'd been vague about most of her itinerary, although Dylan had convinced himself that she was visiting a mixture of witches' covens and sex clubs across the continent.

"A lot of fun," she replied in her deep, throaty voice. "It's always nice to catch up with old friends, and to make new ones."

"And London?" he asked, now with some trepidation.

While most of Morgana's trip had been for her own pleasure and purposes, the London stop had been directly related to Amorous Goods business. Apparently, there was an English version of the occult shop there that had gotten a line on one of the possibly dangerous items that Dylan himself had sold in his early days at AG.

"It seems that no real damage has been done and that we have a good chance of recovering the item."

Just as she was about say more, the shop bell rang again and a young goth couple came through the door.

Morgana placed a cool palm on Dylan's cheek and pierced his eyes with hers. He felt his crotch coming to life. "Go take care of your customers, and I'll tell you and your cousine all about the trip later together. I suppose I'll find her downstairs?"

"Yes," he answered in a daze. He was a heartbeat away from leaning in for a kiss when the witch removed her hand and moved away.

"Hey, can you help us?" he heard from behind him.

Dylan sighed and took half a moment to compose himself before turning to face the dark-costumed pair. This shop sure drew in some weird ones.

At 4:30, Dylan was on the verge of putting up the Closed sign a half-hour early so he could go downstairs and see what the women were up to; the curiosity had been killing him ever since he'd seen the red warning light come on. Some time back, Vikki had been made dizzy by some fumes or something coming off a very old item from the collection. Dylan was still sure there was much more to that story than his cousin was telling him, but every time he brought it up, she deflected [see: Three Horny Monkeys]. Soon after, they'd had a much more powerful exhaust fan installed downstairs. To go along with it, they'd installed a companion piece alongside the upstairs cellar door. It was a traffic light warning system. There was no green light, but there was an amber for caution and a red for no entry. He'd noticed it go red about twenty minutes after Morgana had gone downstairs and stay that way for around a half-hour. Then it had switched to amber for another half-hour, before finally being turned off. He'd guessed they'd opened up something stinky for a while and that it had taken that much longer before the air was clear. He was dying to know what they were up to.

Unfortunately, before he finally felt he could head downstairs, the cellar door opened and the two women came into the workspace behind the sales counter. They were talking animatedly, and Dylan headed over to learn what was going on. But as further proof that old AG really was somehow connected to the spirits or fates or whatever, the damned shop bell chose to ring again right then.

Dylan froze in place, then spun around, with the words, "We're closed," on his tongue. Instead, he found himself freezing even more firmly in place, just facing the other way. As he thought about it later that day, he couldn't decide if he'd just been shocked by the remarkable person he'd found himself looking at, or if she, or Morgana, had hexed him.

The woman was small. Very small, maybe 4-and-a-half feet, give or take an inch. Since he'd been enveloped in the supernatural for months, his first thought was about the short medium who comes to the haunted house in the movie Poltergeist. But after a few seconds closer examination, he thought the visitor would fit even better into another movie he'd watched while drunk and horny one night. The Wizard of Cum. It was a porn parody of The Wizard of Oz, which Dylan had found by following a link from another movie by the standard-sized actress who'd played 'Dorothy'. He'd been surprised at how hot the little people who'd taken part in the 'Munchkin' orgy were.

And regardless of stature, this woman was hot, and wasn't shy about showing it. Short shorts and a loose halter top showed curved thighs leading to a perfectly proportioned bubble butt, along with a generous amount of underboob.

While Dylan stared blankly, her eyes looked back at him challengingly, even hungrily. She took her time checking him out from bottom to top, with an obvious pause at his crotch. Which he felt throb. When she finished with his face, her eyes shifted to around his shoulder and lit up in joy.

"Witch!" she called out.

"Succubus!" came the equally enthusiastic reply from behind him.

Then Morgana was stepping around him and dropping to one knee to accept the small hottie's embrace. And kiss. Long, lingering kiss.

By the time they'd broken the lip lock and Morgana had stood and turned to face Dylan, holding the visitor's hand, Vikki had come to stand by her cousin's side.

Dylan couldn't remember seeing the always elegant Morgana looking this flustered, or maybe aroused was the better word, since their mission to recover enchanted lingerie from the wives of a nearby mayor and sheriff [see: The Mayor's Wife].

"Vikki Friday and Dylan LeMay, may I introduce Janet Jones, one of my and Ludwig's dearest friends."

"Friday, Freitag," chuckled the small woman, as she looked at Vikki. Then she stepped forward with hand extended. "Well, I won't B.S. you by saying sorry for your loss, when I know you didn't actually know Ludwig. But I will say he was a wonderful character and if there's enough of his Old-World blood flowing through your veins, I'm sure we'll also become great friends. Please, call me J.J."

Vikki seemed a bit flustered or aroused herself as she shook the proffered hand. "Thank you. I've come to realize my great-uncle really was quite an amazing character, as you say, and I'm always glad to meet people who can fill in more of his story for me."

J.J. turned her hand to Dylan and he reached out and took it gingerly, like he would if he was shaking hands with a child, with his relatively big mitts. He was surprised to feel the strength in her small grip and shocked by the nearly electrical tingle that ran up his arm. She didn't let go when she stared up into his eyes and threw a comment over her shoulder to Morgana.