This post is part of Linda G.Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday meme an unedited stream of consciousness piece that ties into the weekly prompt: “jour” as a prefix,suffix, or the French word for ‘day’. This snippet is from my April #CampNaNoWriMo project: Transitions, Volume #1 of my Kifo Island Chronicles novella series-in-progress. It’s unedited except for typos, with more repetition and less clarity than it will eventually have. This bit is from Scene 13, and deals with…well, a rather salacious business arrangement… like the scene I shared last week in “Defiled?”, this is in the viewpoint of Terrance Acosta, a jealous husband whose suspicions have just been confirmed beyond doubt.
Disclaimer: This scene has triggers for infidelity, and a PG-13 rating for suggestiveness and mild innuendo. Proceed with due caution.
He groaned, and reached up to caress her strong, square jaw. “Tell me what to sign. Tell me where. Get me a pen.”
Exuberance reached back behind her, where her handbag was hung on the doorknob. She pulled out a small leather-bound journal, and turned to a page. “Right here,” she said. “I need to know that you can read it and understand it.” When had she gone from temptress to businesswoman?
Maybe when he decided to throw himself away – obviously, she thought more of herself, and didn’t want to end up in the garbage heap with him. Damned sensible, and he found himself respecting her more, that she was able to keep a level head, when his was so muzzy and circling.
She passed the little journal to him, and Terrance stared at it, unable to focus. His eyes kept going to her face, her mouth, and he was imagining – “I can’t read it – please don’t make me – ”
“Shhh, sugah.” Exuberance took the book from his shaking hands. “I’ll read it to you, in a minute. Something else to do, first.” She leaned in, and kissed him, her breasts pressing delightfully into his chest, and Terrance gave himself to it, threw himself into the play of lips, tongues, and teeth.
“Damn, you taste good. Go ahead, read it to me.”
Exuberance put on a pair of reading glasses with a sexy little flourish. She watched him for a few seconds, and Terrance felt the tension building within him. “The suspense is killing me,” he whispered. “Maybe literally.”
“All right, sugah. Ready?”
“Oh, baby, you can see the answer to that for yourself. Read it, so I can sign.”
She smiled, and adjusted the hot-pink glasses, watching him for a beat of his broken heart before looking down to the page. “Statement of Indemnity. I, the undersigned, known forthwith as ‘The Client’, hereby release the staff member, also undersigned, and known forthwith as ‘Employee’ from all responsibility and culpability for any adverse affects of the activities in which The Client wishes to engage. These include, but are not limited to, personal consequences, financial loss -”
“You planning to roll me, sugar?” Terrance pulled her in for another kiss.
“I’ve never needed to roll anyone, sugah. Trust me, long before I’m finished with you, you’ll be perfectly willing to give me anything I want- and probably more.” Her smile was a promise, and Terrance let his fingers trail along her shoulder. “You ready to hear the rest?”
“Again, you can see how ready I am – or feel it for yourself – ”
“ – Medical issues, up to and including life-threatening illness; injury; or death.”
“I’m already dying; what the hell difference does it make when? Stupid line to put in anything, in a place like this.”
“Not if I don’t want to be charged with murder, sugah. You’ve got a husband – ”
“No, I don’t. Corinne, the damned potter, has him.”
“He’ll be a jealous husband fast enough, if he comes here and finds you dead, and that I was here, sugah. I’ve seen it happen over and over. Not to me, though – you sign, before we play, love.”
“Is that it?”
“That’s it.” She produced a pen, and passed the little journal over to him, tapping the place where he was to sign with a long pink nail, and Terrance, watching, licked his lips in anticipation of her touch. He took the pen and signed with as strong a hand as he could manage.
And then he took her hand, and said, as seductively as he was able, “All right, sugar. Let’s throw ourselves away.”
“Just let me put the book away,” she said, and tucked the glasses, pen, and journal away in her bag. “All right, sugah – tell me what you want.”
“Anything at all.”
What does Terrance have in mind? Will he survive it? Will his ‘jealous husband’ find out what he’s up to? Who exactly is ‘she’, and why do they need a waiver for this? Well, you can learn more…eventually….
Enjoy stream-of consciousness writing? Come play – there’s just a few simple rules. See you next week, for another live-streaming look into the lovely chaos in my mind! =)