Promises Of Patchouli

Promises of Patchouli for the New Year By Ann Cory © 2005 Ocean’s Mist Press www.oceansmistpress.com

Promises of Patchouli for the New Year

The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is a violation of the Copyright Law. Ocean’s Mist Press will aggressively pursue those who chose to violate the intellectual property rights of our authors. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Promises of Patchouli for the New Year Copyright (c) 2005 by Ann Cory ISBN: 0-9773043-031-022 Cover art and design (c) 2005 by Jinger Heaston All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form without permission, except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. Look for us on the Web www.oceansmistpress.com

2

Ann Cory

Chapter 1 Three good scrubs with the cloth, and she was satisfied, they were as clean as they would get. Windows were her least favorite chore, but equally as irritating was seeing several sets of handprints when the sun shone just right. Some of the neighborhood kids made it a habit to peek in her windows, expecting to find some freakish creature living in her old, Gothic house. She sniffed her hands and scrunched up her nose at the strong odor of pneumonia. A shower was next on her priority list; right after she did a quick run-through to make sure everything was in place. Marilyn passed along the entryway and stopped in front of the table. Her fingers tapped along the photo album she had set up, a definite conversation piece. This would be the night, a night she’d waited a decade for. She hoped to ring in the New Year with one hell of a bang. She looked into the gilded mirror above the table. “You can do this,” she coaxed her reflection. “Keep your cool.” With a flick of her long black hair, Marilyn took the stairs two at a time and stepped in the shower, quickly turning the water to warm. Sprays of mist met her head-on and rendered her blind until she smeared back her hair. A rumble from her stomach reminded her of how little she’d eaten throughout the day; nervous energy had kept her from grabbing a light snack. The refrigerator was filled with every party food imaginable, and then some. Cases of beer, bottles of wine, and all kinds of liquor to mix and match were set about to quench the thirst of any type of drinker. Just in case, she had stocked up on soda pop, herbed tea, and bottled water. An image flashed in her mind. Mason Richter. After ten years, they’d finally be in the same room together. While she didn’t doubt everyone had changed, she hoped a few unique traits of the man she’d been head over heels for still remained. Marilyn poured a dollop of shampoo into the palm of her hand and worked the creamy mixture into her hair, inhaling the rich orange blossom scent. The ends of her hair were in need of a serious trim,

3

Promises of Patchouli for the New Year something she kept putting off. She was going through one of her ‘cut it all off’ phases, and it drove her nuts. Past experience restrained her from taking a pair of shears and spending a year sorry for being impulsive. Leaning her head back, she let the warm water trickle down, rinsing out the shampoo along the way. Layers of foam slid down and around her shoulders and breasts, exposing three different tattoos: a butterfly, the sign of the scales, and a half moon. Each one represented a part of her life. She was always reinventing herself; looking for balance, and every once in awhile when she had it all together, she knew she shined. Marilyn lathered up her hair again with extra volume conditioner and squeezed out the last of the patchouli body wash onto a sponge. Memories of Mason wearing his patchouli cologne drifted into her mind. She loved the way his scent had clung to her clothes, especially after nights of heavy petting. Marilyn never forgot the time they’d almost gone all the way in the back of his pick-up truck before a police officer knocked on the window, shining a flashlight across her naked body. After that they decided it wasn’t an appropriate place for their first time. Unfortunately that first time never happened. She lathered up the body wash and circled around her breasts, being extra careful with her left one. A tiny silver hoop hung from her nipple, the most painful piercing she’d ever experienced, and the one that drove her wild when pinched. Marilyn felt the familiar pang of sexual fire burn between her thighs. Between thoughts of Mason and the months without a stranger’s cock shoved inside her, she was horny as hell. The need turned into a voracious plea from her body and she had no choice but to heed its call. Sinking down to her knees she stroked her clit, surprised at how fast it responded to her touch. Streams of water ran down her body, teasing her opening with its thirsty laps. She rubbed at her clit furiously while she slipped her other fingers in and out. Faster she manipulated her swollen nub until her body shuddered. Warmth coated her fingers. A long, deep sigh echoed around her. She stood up on shaky legs and let the water soothe her. The desire was sated for now and she could turn her attention back to hosting her mini get-together.

4

Ann Cory Marilyn stepped out of the shower and patted her skin dry. She sprayed a light mist of body spritzer on her wrists and neck, and went to work on fixing herself up. Her palate of makeup was strewn all along the countertop without any rhyme or reason. Most of it consisted of samples from the mall, having never really been one to spend much on cosmetics. The phone rang and she bolted into her bedroom, flinging her nude body across the bed. “Mare here.” Her signature phrase. “Hey, it’s Nic. I’m going to be about fifteen minutes late. Hope that’s okay. My boss left early for some emergency with his kid so I was stuck holding down the fort.” “Cool, come when you can.” “Yep. See ya.” Marilyn hung up the phone and raced back to the bathroom. She started with a smooth layer of foundation to even out her complexion, added a thin coat of loose powder, and applied a smidgeon of blusher along her high cheekbones. It would be interesting to see Nicole again, she thought. Nic had always been known as the braniac of the group, always yammering to them about one thing or another. Next to her, Marilyn felt like her brain was the size of a pea. They all voted her most likely to succeed and be filthy rich. With her pinkie finger she pulled the skin taut beneath her eye and carefully drew a thick black line. Immediately her sea green eyes were noticeable and bright. She took her time with the eye shadow and applied two coats of mascara, saving her lips for last. In the drawer she poked through several tubes, each in a range of shades until she came across her favorite. Red lips kissed back as she blotted her mouth on the mirror. Plugging in the hairdryer, she put the setting to medium and leaned over, flipping her hair over her head to start at the back. Her outfit for the evening had been picked out months ago and was sure to cause a stir. A cleavage-baring tight dress that went an inch above her knees, sexy high heels with straps that crept up her shapely calves, and black fishnet stockings. She figured it was now or never, and now meant pulling out all the stops.

5

Promises of Patchouli for the New Year Underneath she wore a simple pair of black silk panties, and decided against a bra, too restrictive. Mason liked her braless, always finding an excuse to streak his hands along her nipples. When her hair was dry she brushed it straight and added a couple drops of gel to add shine. The picture was complete and she eyed her masterpiece. She threw the damp towel into the hamper, and opened the door. An invigorating breeze met her face, temporarily reviving her. Marilyn got dressed and did a once-over in the long oval mirror in the corner of her room. The outfit hugged her figure in all the right places. While she didn’t have much of an ego, she knew for a fact she looked exceptionally hot. If she wanted, she could go out and get any guy she wanted, right this moment. Problem was, that wasn’t her style. She checked the clock before heading downstairs and felt a rush of panic. Ten minutes. It was enough time to casually set out snacks and then call everyone up to cancel. Who was she kidding? She’d never been hostess material, and Mason…always smelling of that deep, woodsy musk…she felt a film of wetness along the inside lining of her silk panties. Damn that patchouli.

6

Ann Cory

Chapter 2 At half past five she heard footsteps on the porch. She hung back out of sight a moment, gathering strength. Her mouth was dry and she was certain she was overdressed. By the second ring of the doorbell she smoothed down her dress and hurried to answer it. A petite brunette with a classy pageboy style hairdo graced her with a smile. “Amy, it’s so good of you to come!” She patted her on the back and caught a whiff of vanilla scented perfume. “Thanks for the invite. Ah shit, I left my tote bag in the car. Just a sec.” Marilyn watched her old friend jog over to a Volkswagen Bug littered with bumper stickers quoting peace. Amy was the smallest of the bunch but surprisingly the strongest. Wrestling her was like taking on an elephant. You just didn’t do it. Dressed in a tight yellow t-shirt and baggy classic-style jeans, she looked more like a teenie bopper than a twentyeight-year old woman. She walked up the porch lugging a huge tote bag with bulges and bumps everywhere. “Before you ask, yes, I totally packed half my room. I’m not sure why.” Her laugh was infectious, reminding her of bubble gum and girl scouts all in one. “Judging by your gorgeous outfit, I’m severely underdressed.” “Nonsense, I asked for everyone to come as they are.” “Anyone else here yet?” “Nah, you’re the first. Kind of like the old days, hey?” Amy nodded her head and bit at her lower lip. “What should I do with my bag?” Marilyn snapped to attention and assumed her hostess role. “Bring your stuff right in and make yourself at home.” “This is quite a place you have here, so spacious, and very Goth. I swear it’s all the rage nowadays.” “What can I say, it’s my dream home. It’s two and a half stories above a full basement. When you look at it from outside you’d think it was taller, but that’s only because it rests on a hill.”

7

Promises of Patchouli for the New Year “Has it been rebuilt?” “Nearly all of the architectural features are the same as when it was first put up in the 1840’s. It’s made of heart pine with both wooden pegs and hand-wrought nails.” Amy let out a long, low whistle. “Impressive. I noticed the arches and latticework on the porch. How ever did you afford this? I know people who know people who know people they’d kill for this kind of place. You win the lottery or something?” “Savings, an inheritance, and a date with the real estate agent.” “No way!” Marilyn laughed so hard the knots in her stomach clenched tight. Good old Amy, she always loved a good intrigue. “No silly, my grandparents socked away most of their money and left it to me in their will. It was quite a surprise.” “I’d say so. How many rooms are there?” “Seven major rooms plus three halls. There’s of course the basement as well as an attic. I haven’t been up to the attic though, I’m too scared to go up there alone.” “No kidding, I would be too. I’m stuck in a small studio apartment with crap for an air conditioner and about ten minutes of hot water in the morning. I don’t have an attic but I try and stay out of there as much as possible. I’m hoping to be out of there soon.” Marilyn was glad to see her friend but she found the idle chitchat uncomfortable and forced, at least on her part. She hoped it didn’t sound that way. “Say, are you thirsty? Want a beer? “Thanks, but no. I’m strictly a water girl these days.” “No problem, have plenty of that. Anything else I should know, food-wise?” “I’m mainly vegetarian, though I make allowances when the mood suits me. Fish, yes, eggs, no. I’ve never cared for eggs to be honest. Other than that, my eating habits haven’t changed too much since school. I don’t ever turn down pizza. Ever.” The doorbell rang and Amy jumped. A deep tone resonated around the house, vibrating the floorboards. “I know, it’s dramatic, but I think it goes with the ambience of the place,” Marilyn laughed, hurrying to the door. Nicole pushed her way in before the door was partially open, carrying bags and a large suitcase.

8

Ann Cory “You’d be proud, I totally drove like a maniac on the freeway.” In a single moment the calm, relaxed atmosphere of the house vanished, making way for her vivacious friend and all her chaotic energy. Before she could say anything, a string of mumbled curse words from her friend’s mouth echoed in the hall. “For fuck’s sake, it’s my damn cell again, could you ladies take these for me?” She thrust the bags into both women’s hands and fished in the pockets of her navy blazer. “I must be deaf, I didn’t even hear it.” Amy shrugged and tried to peek inside the bags. “It’s on vibrate. I’d meant to turn the piece of crap off. Ugh! Well, now that they’ve found me, guess I better get rid of them. Let me take care of this real quick and then I promise it’s off for the entire night.” Marilyn couldn’t help but notice how rail thin her friend was. She’d always been skinny, but not skeletal. The running joke in school was that Nic’s metabolism was so high because she never stopped talking and gabbed off hundreds of calories per hour. Now she didn’t find it quite so funny. She glanced over her casual office attire consisting of a blue blazer, matching mini skirt, nude hose, and a cream-colored blouse. Tufts of blonde hair poked out from a partial bun atop her head, fastened with brightly painted chopsticks. She fit the profile of corporate success. Nicole pushed the off button on her cell phone and dumped it back in her pocket. “There, all done. I promise, no more phone tonight.” “What do you have in the bags?” Amy tugged at the bags. “What do you have in here?” “Some stuff I’ve been meaning to give back to you guys, mainly old cassette tapes, a movie, and sappy romance books. Seems weird to have held onto them for so long, but I wasn’t about to get rid of them when they weren’t mine.” Marilyn started to ask what else was in the bag when she heard a car pull up. Her chest tightened and she struggled to get air. Why did the house all of a sudden feel like it was shrinking?

9

Promises of Patchouli for the New Year

Chapter 3 Mason’s profile passed along the windows and stopped at the door. Amy and Nicole came up behind her, nearly jolting her out of her skin. “Aren’t you going to let him in?” “What? Oh, yeah. Sorry.” Her laugh wasn’t genuine, but her nerves were. She forced down the lump of bile in her throat and imagined the hallway elongated to three times its normal length. Life was flashing before her eyes and suddenly she wanted to run and hide. “If you’re not going to let him in, I will.” Amy made a move for the door. “No, I’m going.” She willed her feet to move forward. Why were there drums playing inside her chest? Her heart sounded like it was going to explode. Slowly she reached for the doorknob; her fingers were slick with perspiration. Simultaneous chills and heat waves raged inside her body, and all the blood drained from her face. Marilyn turned the knob and pulled open the door. Mason’s pale lips formed into a thin smile, exacerbating his sexy left dimple. A duffle bag was thrown over his shoulder and a denim jacket was folded over his other arm. All she could do was stare, after ten years he was still utterly breathtaking. Marilyn’s lips formed the word hello, but her voice didn’t follow, so she smiled and stepped back so he could come in. “Hey ladies, long time no see!” He turned and eyed her. “A little too long.” Mason’s voice was honey on a fresh buttermilk biscuit. Standing in her house, only a couple feet away, was the boy she’d been infatuated with since the day she laid eyes on him. Inseparable in junior high and high school, they decided to date each other exclusively. Marilyn never tired of being by his side. When they weren’t together, she dreamed about him, wrote poems and stories, and fawned over pictures. The luminous quality about his existence was something she couldn’t explain. It was like

10

Ann Cory she’d known him before, some other time, some other life. This felt like only one of a series of reunions they’d taken part in. She would need him to confirm her feelings in order for the night to take the path she was hoping for. Mason shimmied the duffle bag off his shoulder and let it drop to the floor. “Hey Mare. You look sensational.” Too nervous to say a word, she nodded instead. He stretched open his arms and leaned in, waiting for her to meet him halfway. When she didn’t return his affectionate greeting he stepped forward and embraced her. She caught a whiff of patchouli and smiled. Her Mason had returned. When he pulled away she needed a moment to regain her balance, the smell was intoxicating. “What an incredible house! You weren’t kidding when you said you’d be living large someday. Look at the size of this place!” His blue eyes sparkled as he looked around. She liked the way his mahogany hair drifted in different directions, framing a chiseled, whisker-free face. As she peered closer she noticed the sprig of freckles along the bridge of his nose, the same ones she would kiss when they were especially close. While his face was turned, Marilyn couldn’t help but glance down and check out the goods in his tight faded jeans. He packed a full house himself and she was more than impressed. Lost in her own dream world, it took a few minutes for her to realize the others had left the room and were in the kitchen snacking on finger food. “Anyone care for some wine? I can open anything you want.” She reverted back to playing hostess and kept her lust-filled fantasy at bay. For the moment. Mason laughed and grabbed a large wine goblet. “I never refuse wine.” Marilyn uncorked a nice vintage she’d picked from the wine cellar and poured a glass for him and one for herself. “Nicole?” “Nah, I’ll take a beer.” An awkward silence followed while they ate and drank, taking turns politely smiling at one another. She felt desperation overtake her bravery and hoped idle chatter would buy some time. “Oh hey, you said you brought a movie that belonged to one of us. Which one was it?”

11

Promises of Patchouli for the New Year “A movie?” Mason set his wine glass down and poured himself into her big, plush couch. He bent his left leg and rested it over his right one, and propped up his arm along the back. If there was ever a GQ moment, it was right then. The man was class in motion. Nicole sighed and reached in one of the bags. A shabby copy of Girls Just Wanna Have Fun slid out and she tossed it on the table. Amy’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide. “I’ve been looking everywhere for that! Can you guys believe it’s still one of my favorites?” Nicole and Marilyn looked at each other, their expressions revealing stunned surprise. “You’re kidding.” Nicole shook her head and gulped down more beer. “I love all the dancing and it has a killer soundtrack. Plus, I’ve always loved Helen Hunt and she plays such a cool character. I’m so glad you thought to bring it with you! We must have watched this movie at least a hundred times, acting out the parts and making fun of the rich snobby girl.” Mason chuckled and ran his hand through his hair. Just having him so close to her was driving Marilyn mad. “Looks like I’m the odd man out here, I don’t think I’ve ever seen it. You’d tell me if it was one of those chick flicks, wouldn’t you?” “Like Hell we’re watching this thing,” Nicole cried and tossed it out of everyone’s reach. “Please!” Amy tried her old puppy dog eyes routine, but it didn’t look like it worked anymore. “Look, I’m not the same girl I was in high school, okay? Childish isn’t my thing. If you want to admit to watching this piece of junk, go right ahead. Doesn’t mean I have to.” Nicole finished the rest of the beer and grabbed for another. “When is the pizza going to get here?” “I called early this afternoon and said to come around seven. Shouldn’t be long now.” Nicole sighed dramatically and looked at her watch. “Yikes. I need to take something for this oncoming migraine. Anyone see where I put my purse?” “It’s…in…the…hall,” Amy said between bites of cheese and cracker. Nic gave her a pitiful look and walked out of the room.

12

Ann Cory Marilyn could tell the night wouldn’t be without challenges. Was it possible they could make it to midnight still friends? “What is this?” Nicole’s voice reverberated along the hallway. Mason and Amy quickly made their way over. She waved a photo album at them and opened to the first page. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Can I burn this thing?” Mason threw back his head and laughed a deep, hearty laugh. “Finally! Proof you girls really did have big hair and dressed funny.” With folded arms, Amy gave him a cross look and clicked her tongue. “Pardon me, Mister Faded Jeans, but I never dressed funny a day in my life, and you know it.” “I thought you guys would like to see us all together, when we were one big happy family. Even though Troy, Shawna, and Bailey couldn’t make it tonight, I thought we could still include them anyway. Mason gave her a charming glance. “What a thoughtful idea.” She shrugged her shoulders and looked down at the floor. Oh the way he made her swoon. They all circled around the photo album and pointed at the pictures. Marilyn took the opportunity to wander away and get things ready for after dinner. As much as the past was going to throw itself in her face, tonight was about making a change for the future. It was about planning for a new way of thinking, starting new rituals and traditions, forgiving people for any wrongs they caused, and sloughing away old, unhealthy habits. She was in desperate need of all those things. Ten years was too much time to be stuck thinking about the same guy and harping over what could have been. Tonight had to go right or she risked being doomed to replay the same lonely heart’s band song in her head. In a strange, cathartic way, it was exciting to have her friends all together again, even if she really only wanted Mason. They’d been a tight group once, all seven of them, though when they paired off Amy went with Nicole, Bailey took off with Shawna, and then there was Troy, who seemed to have troubles keeping any girl for long. None of them were popular but they weren’t looked down on either. One thing was for sure; they were there for each other during tough times. Up until graduation.

13

Promises of Patchouli for the New Year Marilyn checked over the small details and quickly went back downstairs. Everyone was just finishing up the photo album and laughing with each other. Mason flashed her the same winning smile that had snared her heart, and winked. “This is great, you are so clever to have retained our golden years.” Nicole snorted and closed up the album. “I admit we had a few good times but honestly I’m trying to forget those days. I can’t see where living in the past gets people anywhere. Do you know how much money therapists make to sit around listening to all the stuff people refuse to let go of? It’s disgusting and unproductive.” Amy toyed with the pocket of her jeans, pulling at invisible threads. “Count yourself lucky for having such a perfect childhood. Personally, if I could afford counseling, I’d be in it. My life was a mess.” “I didn’t say I had a perfect childhood. I mean come on, you guys know what a bitch my step-mom was. I’m an adult now, so I look at it this way, either I accept this is how my life is, today, and carry on, or I let all my anger, frustrations, and regrets hold me back. I’d like to think I’ve learned something along the way. Not to sweat the small stuff, let things roll off me, take things day by day. It’s all a matter of choice.” “Thank you Doctor Nicole for such an insightful therapy session. Hope you don’t mind taking a bounced check?” Amy dug her hands into her back pockets and slinked around, grazing over the food. Marilyn wanted to come to the rescue with something witty but her mind was blank. A loud knock at the door saved her for the moment and she grabbed some money. “Pizza’s here guys, now we can stuff ourselves silly!” Mason rushed to her side. “Need a hand?” “That would be great, thanks.” She let him walk in front of her as she checked out the way his ass moved in his jeans. Her stomached grumbled again. Oh yeah she was hungry, hungry for him.

14

Ann Cory

Chapter 4 Together they carried in 5 different boxes of piping hot pizza and laid them open on the counter. “At the time I didn’t know what you all wanted, so I ordered a variety. There’s vegetarian, pepperoni, Hawaiian, sausage, and one with extra cheese. Hope something works for ya.” “Why don’t we throw in the movie while we eat?” Amy was about to reach for the box when Nicole swiped it. “You know, I’m sorry I brought the damn thing with me. I really don’t want to ring in the New Year singing Cyndi Lauper songs. Would you give it a rest, please?” Amy shrugged and piled a plate with pizza slices. “Fine.” Marilyn ushered them into the family room so they could stretch out and be comfortable. “So Nicole, what are you doing these days? Judging from your call earlier, it sounds like you’re pretty important.” “Of course I am. I’m in a designing firm, doing up posters and advertisements for elite companies. My next client is big time and I really need to step things up to land him as a client.” “What kinds of things do you plan to do for him,” Mason asked, a long string of cheese extending from his lips to the plate. Nicole frowned. “Are you suggesting I need to bed someone to get further in my career?” “Huh?” Mason blinked and looked around the room. “How’d you get that from my question?” Marilyn decided to stick up for him. “I think you’re being oversensitive, Nic. I didn’t hear any hidden agenda in his question. “Yeah, okay. Sorry for biting your head off. I thought you were insinuating I drop my drawers, and not the ones from my desk. It’s cool if you weren’t going that route. Anyway, to answer your question, I need to make a killer presentation and sound like I know what I’m talking about.”

15

Promises of Patchouli for the New Year “Wow. Nic does corporate. How sophisticated.” Amy smirked and grabbed another thick slice. Marilyn had no idea what was up between her girlfriends, but she hoped it was going to end soon. She nervously played with the strands of her hair and drowned half a glass of wine in the process. “What about you, Amy?” “I’m a nutritionist and volunteer time at the animal shelter and library.” “Aren’t you a saint?” Nicole picked at her pizza, mumbling to herself. “I figure someone needs to help others, why not me? Is there a problem?” “No, but you won’t see me giving up my valuable time without some reward. What’s the point?” “It feels good inside.” Amy’s face was beet red and Marilyn felt powerless to do anything about it. She grabbed another piece of pizza and washed it down with more wine. Mason wiped the sides of his mouth on the back of his hand and cleared his throat. “You know, it’s pretty damn cool Marilyn invited us over to get reacquainted with one another. You figure, we hung out for over five years, and ten years later we’re back together again. How amazing is that? Too bad Troy and the others couldn’t be here, the guys would have helped even things out a little. But still, most people drift away and never see each other again. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for Mare to work this shindig out. And while I’m in confessional mood, I wanted to say this little get- together came at a great time for me. I just quit my boring day job last month and got back into my artwork.” Amy clapped her hands together and squealed. “That’s great Mason, have you sold anything yet?” “As a matter of fact, I have. An album cover for a local Indie band. They invited me to hear them play and I was blown away by their sound.” Marilyn was so proud she wanted to kiss him, strip off his clothes, and fuck him right there. But not with an audience. She needed to steal him away, and fast. With him getting back into art, it was the perfect thing to push the plan forward. Nic patted her stomach and slouched down further in her seat, propping her feet up on the coffee table. “I’m stuffed.”

16

Ann Cory “You only had one piece.” Mason shook his head. “Keep up that diet of yours and we won’t be able to see you.” “Ha, ha. I’m not on a diet, just watching my weight.” “Watching it what…drop?” Marilyn could see that Mason was visibly concerned, hell they all were, but most of all Amy. The two had once been close. Now they couldn’t seem to stand one another. She got up and dimmed the lights, switching on some quiet, relaxing music. “Hope you ladies don’t mind, but while I have him here, I need a male’s opinion about fixing something in the house. We’ll be right back.” Mason placed his empty wineglass on the counter and saluted her. “I’m being called away to do some manly labor.” Amy and Nicole’s eyes widened but they didn’t say a word. Marilyn silently thanked them and tugged Mason’s arm, leading him upstairs and down the hall. Each step had her head spinning. “I kind of like you stealing me away. Hope those two don’t tear each other apart in there.” “I’m sure, they will think of something to occupy their time. They’re big girls.” Marilyn stopped in front of a door and turned to Mason, her eyes staring into his. “Okay. I want you to know that I had a hidden agenda in bringing you here tonight, and I was afraid you wouldn’t come if the others didn’t.” “But I…” “Just hold on. My house, my rules. I have the floor and I get to talk first. As I was saying, whether you would have come on your own or not, that doesn’t matter now. Behind these doors is something that has been eating away at me ever since I bought the place. I need to know if you feel it too, and even more importantly, if you believe it.”

17

Promises of Patchouli for the New Year

Chapter 5 He put his hands to his cheeks and gave her a crazy-eyed look. “Is it a bed?” She bit her cheek to keep from smiling, but it didn’t work for long. He always knew how to break down her tough exterior. “No, it’s not a bed. Now I’m being serious, so please, no jokes right now.” He nodded his head and clasped his hands behind his back. “No jokes.” “Good.” Marilyn pushed open the big double doors to reveal a glamorous old room filled with antique furniture, an old piano, and bare walls with wooden beams exposed. The hardwood floors were mostly covered with ivory tarps and there were paint supplies everywhere. She watched his mouth open wide, then go wider, his eyes glassy while staring around in wonderment. “What an incredible room!” “Yeah, it’s pretty special.” He walked from one side to the other, his eyes taking in the brass chandelier, old wooden desk, and the paintbrushes. “This room seems familiar to me, have we been here before?” “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” “How do you mean?” Marilyn let out a deep sigh. “What do you feel when you’re in here, when you touch the walls, when you breathe in the air. Let me know how it affects you, if it does at all.” “Okay. Give me a minute or two.” He let his hands drag along the walls until he came to the corner. “There’s a strong wood and musk smell here, kind of like patchouli. Is that what you mean?” “You smell that? Wow. Okay, now look up at the exposed beam. There are some initials carved on one of the beams. Can you see it?”

18

Ann Cory “Yeah, I see something.” He put his hands on his hips and looked up, squinting his eyes. “I see names, but I can’t read ‘em.” He pushed a chair over and carefully stepped on it. “I can’t believe it. Marilyn and Mason, always and forever. And it’s dated 1852.” He stepped down and turned toward her. “What does it mean?” “I don’t know. Doesn’t it seem strange our names are carved on a place I moved into? And the smell of patchouli is very strong in here, more so than in any other room of the house. When I first moved in, it was overwhelming, but it has dissipated since.” “Interesting. I really do feel like I’ve been in this room, only it looked very different. I can almost remember it being a ballroom, or at least a room where people stood around and listened to the piano.” “I’ve thought the same thing. I’ve had the most vivid dreams since moving here. Dreams that leave me wondering if we didn’t live here once in a past life.” She held her breath, unsure what his views were on things like that, but he didn’t seem phased in the least. “I think I’ve painted in this room.” “Do you? Oh that makes me so happy to hear you say that! I’ve had all kinds of dreams where you’ve painted in here. Pictures, portraits, even murals on the walls. I believe you were a famous artist a long time ago.” Mason scratched his forehead, leaving a tuft of hair sticking straight up. “I never took drawing lessons, you know. I just picked up a pencil one day and started sketching. I never stopped until…” “Yeah, I know. Until you graduated.” Marilyn’s eyes instantly welled up with tears. “I hated you the day you told me you were going away to boot camp. All our plans, dreams, our entire future was planned out, and you decided to do change all that. Without a single word to me. You broke my heart.” He walked toward her, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “At the time I thought it was the right thing to do.” “But, you never said why. No phone calls, no letters, nothing. I was madly in love with you, ready to give myself to you completely, and you took yourself out of the picture. No real goodbye, no real explanation. Just poof, a disappearing act. I was surprised after all this time to find you lived only a couple hours away. What were you thinking? We had it all

19

Promises of Patchouli for the New Year planned. You were going to do the art program at the university, and I was going to take interior design. What went wrong?” “I don’t really want to get into it.” “Damn it! You owe me. For ten years I haven’t let it go. Once you left I went into a social coma and didn’t speak to anyone. I did poorly at the university because my head wasn’t in the right place. Whether you like it or not, I deserve an explanation of some kind.” Mason hung his head and circled the toe of his shoe along the tarp. “You’re right. I’m still embarrassed about it. You see, my dad liked to play cards, and while most of the time he won, he had nights where he lost. Big. A week after graduation, he came home late and woke me up. Said he had to tell me something important and that he was ashamed. I guess he went and gambled my whole college tuition away. All of it. He said it was either the deed to the house along with both cars, or the savings. I guess he figured my future wasn’t important enough. All I could think to do was get the hell away, somewhere far away because I wanted to beat the crap out of my dad right then and there. The Army was the only place to make some quick cash and live elsewhere. He took my pride and respect away. Shattered my dream of making it big as an artist. I couldn’t stay, and I couldn’t say goodbye. Not to you. I felt like a failure and I couldn’t look you in the eye. I was sorry, and I honestly wrote over fifty letters. I just never mailed them.” Marilyn stood silent, soaking in the words that had taken a decade to reach her. She’d been wrong. It hadn’t been her. She hadn’t done anything wrong. It was something he’d had to do for himself. She stepped closer to him and slipped her arms around his waist, snuggling herself into the one spot she’d been missing the most. “I understand, and I’m not mad. I was never mad, just confused, and, well hurt of course, but mostly confused.” “It was so stupid and selfish of me to handle it the way I did. I figured you didn’t ever want to see me again, so I left you alone. Now I’m sorry and wish I could make up for lost time.” “Actually, you can.” “How?” “By painting this room for me. Fill it with your imagination and creative talent. Recreate what you’ve made before.” A passionate look radiated on his face, and she knew the old Mason was back. “I’ll need some inspiration.”

20

Ann Cory Marilyn reached back behind her and unzipped her dress, letting it fall to the floor in a black puddle.

21

Promises of Patchouli for the New Year

Chapter 6 “The years have done you justice. You’ve grown into quite a woman, my beautiful Mare.” He kneeled down and ran his hands along her stockings, sliding them down until he reached the straps of her heels. His hands wrapped around her calves and she felt the familiar shivers race along her skin. Expertly he undid the straps of her shoes and took them off, pushing them to the side. He laced his thumbs beneath her stockings and pulled them down along with her silk panties. A large butterfly tattoo graced the area between her hip and pubic bone. “It suits you.” His lips kissed the intricate design, while his fingers pulled her stockings and panties all the way off. Marilyn felt her legs buckle and she fought to stay balanced. He continued to kneel, looking up at her, staring at her glistening, naked sex. “Mm. May I?” “Please.” Mason tucked his face between her legs and kissed her mound, nuzzling the soft tuft of hair leading to her sensitive spot. His fingers gently roamed the soft folds of her skin. Swiftly his tongue escaped between the damp folds, just enough to arouse her clit to attention. She could feel it throb between her thighs and she tossed her head back. He suckled her clit for a few minutes and then stood, his body facing her side. Fingers escaped both in front of her body and behind, fingering the sleek opening her labia lips. He sank his fingers deep between her flooded sex and pushed his fingers up, ever reaching, filling her up with more fingers. Kisses traced up and down her forearm and he teased at her nipples with his tongue, taunting the silver nipple ring, devouring her in an untamed manner. “I want you Mare, I’ve never stopped wanting you. I would have come anytime you called, just to be near you.”

22

Ann Cory He finger-fucked her hard while she tensed her leg muscles, feeling an orgasm tearing its way through her being. “I need you inside me, please.” Her muffled whines were accompanied by tears. So racked with emotion, she could barely think straight. Mason’s fingers fondled faster, his thumb and fingers rubbing intently just under her clit, while his other hand pumped four fingers in a fast, steady cadence. “No, I’m going to make you come right here and now.” Heat danced across her body. She watched him watch her, sweat formulating over his brows and upper lip. Her sex was packed with him, and she couldn’t take it. A blast of energy funneled its way through her body and she cried out, locked in a wave of incessant spasms. He continued pumping his fingers, sloshing through her lubricated walls. “Please, I can barely stand.” She gripped his shoulders, her thighs quivering uncontrollably. “Here…” Mason threw off his clothes and laid down on the tarp. She eyed his cock with a rapacious hunger. Many times she’d dreamed of going down on him, engulfing him, practically choking on his magnificent length. Now she’d have her chance. Marilyn nestled herself between his thighs and took his shaft in her hands, caressing it, running her tongue along its smooth underside. “Mare, I…” She poised her lips right above the head of his cock. “I can’t talk right now. My mouth is full.” She slid her lips over him, making them tight. Mason drew in his breath and she consumed him further, taking in his entire length. As she ascended back up she suckled him intensely. Again she went down on him and this time bobbed her head, concentrating on the swollen tip, tasting his salty divinity. She watched his expression of complete satisfaction. “Please, Marilyn, I want to feel what it’s like inside you.” While she enjoyed what she was doing, she couldn’t deny the same want. He helped her up until she hovered above the tip of his sex. With her fingers she splayed open her thirsty lips, and slid over top of him. “Oh god, Mason…I can’t believe it!”

23

Promises of Patchouli for the New Year He stretched her beyond her usual capacity, filling her up with explicit width and length. She leaned forward and pressed her hands against his stomach for balance. Driven by the need to take him all the way in, she rode him with an inhibited fury. Nothing prepared her for how greatly he’d fill her up, engorging her, his shaft pressing up against her aching nub. She felt like an animal, unable to get enough, crawling all over him in the hopes of fusing herself as one. Her hips swung from side-to-side like a pendulum until she found a deep-seeded rhythm. Mason reached up and fondled her breasts, stroking their fullness, lightly brushing against her peaked nipples. He tugged at the piercing, tugged until she moaned. Her labored breath was the only sound she could hear as she ravaged his body. He pinched her nipple soft and then squeezed harder. The sensation started an avalanche inside her body, and there was no stopping it. “You always liked that.” “I always will. You have magical hands.” “Only when they are on your body.” Faster she gyrated her body against his, her moans turning into a series of repetitive whimpers. She could tell he was close as his hands gripped her hips. The orgasm was close, her vaginal lips tightening like suction cups, until her body jerked. She sucked in her breath and let the power of the orgasm overtake her. At the same time Mason clenched his jaw and groaned, coating her insides with a fervent stream of his being. “You are unbelievable Mare, the sex was unbelievable.” A faint scent of patchouli permeated in the air, surrounding their heaving bodies. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the sound of his pounding heart while his hands stroked along her dampened hair, pushing her further into him. “I’ve needed you for so long. Something has been absent in my life and I thought it was art. But even when I got back into it, there was still something…missing. It makes sense that it was you.” “It feels even stronger in this room. I don’t know what all to think, but I know there are some mysteries we can’t explain in life. We were here, once upon a time, and we’ve found our way back. Maybe we’ll reunite in another place.”

24

Ann Cory “I’d like to think we could always make our way back to one another.” She took a deep breath and felt the steady stream of spasms disperse. Mason traveled his fingers along her nose and chin. “I think I know what I’m going to paint.” “Are you going to tell me, or will it be a surprise?” “A surprise.” She gave her best attempt at a pout but couldn’t hold it for long. “It’s going to take me awhile, so you’ll be seeing me more often. Hope that isn’t a problem.” She shook her head, her black hair falling forward over his chest like a velvet cape. “No problem at all. I imagine the evenings will be when your muse is most alive.” “Mare, you are my muse.” With a heavy groan she pulled herself up and put her clothes back on. “Come on you, we better get back downstairs and ring in the New Year.” “I wonder what time it is.” “Not sure, there isn’t a clock in here.” She watched him zip up his jeans, and tuck in his shirt. Shivers ran along her body at the thought of having had his cock shoved up inside her. “I hope they didn’t tear each other’s eyes out or something violent. You did notice the tension in there, right?” Marilyn lightly chewed at the top her fingernail, a mischievous smile covering her face. “Trust me, they are fine.” Mason looked over at her and squinted his eyes. “What are you up to?” “You’ll see.”

25

Promises of Patchouli for the New Year

Chapter 7 She led him downstairs, shushing him with her fingers when he made the steps creak. “I can’t help it, I’m actually trying to be quiet.” Halfway down the steps she stopped and motioned for him to do the same. A duo of moans came from the room and she smiled to herself. “What is that?” “That, my dear Mason, is the sound of Nic and Amy making up.” He cocked his head at her and then hurried down the rest of the stairs to take a peek. When he looked back at her with a shocked expression, she nearly doubled over in laughter. “Did you know that was going to happen?” Marilyn popped her head in the doorway and watched her two friends kissing, completely naked in each other’s arms. “Maybe.” “How long?” “I caught them fooling around at my slumber parties all the time. Why do you think they never went for Troy?” “I thought they were both going after Troy and he couldn’t decide which one to pick, so he hung out with both of them.” “Yeah, well. Trust me, I’ve known about them for a long, long time. But I don’t think they are aware.” Marilyn glanced up at the clock and noticed it was fifteen minutes to midnight. “Let’s climb back up a few steps and then really make a lot of noise coming down. That way they have time to get themselves situated. I don’t want to embarrass them.” “Good idea.” They waited and stomped heavily, their voices getting louder as they made it to the last step. “Hey girls, sorry we took so long, but I wanted to show Mason the room he’s going to paint for me.” Marilyn smiled. Nic and Amy’s faces were flushed, their hair damp and disheveled.

26

Ann Cory “Nicole, did you realize your shirt has been buttoned wrong this whole time?” “What?” She looked down and then over at Amy and back up to Marilyn. “It must have happened when I rushed to get over here after work.” “No need to explain, I kind of like seeing you with a flaw or two.” It’s almost midnight. I’ll be right back with a bottle of champagne. Mason followed her into the kitchen and grabbed a tray of champagne flutes. When she came back out, she filled everyone’s glasses and handed them out. “Now, what should we toast to?” “Life.” Amy’s cheeks blushed pink. “Love.” “Yeah, definitely love,” Mason agreed and held up his glass. Marilyn flipped on the television to Times Square and together they counted down with the enormous crowd of people. “Five, four, three, two…” Before she reached one, Mason’s mouth covered hers. The kiss lasted all throughout the blaring horns and people shouting, making her weak in the knees. “I think, my beautiful Mare, that inspiration has struck again. Shall we go upstairs and investigate that mysterious carving in the wood?” She looked over at her friends, laughing at their stunned expressions. “You girls don’t mind if we slip away, do you?” The glint in both their eyes was answer enough for her. “Great. Then we’ll see you in the morning.” Marilyn started up the stairs, stripping off her clothing along the way. When they stepped inside they were met with the musky patchouli scent. “What do you feel inspired to paint?” Mason bent over and grabbed a paintbrush. He teased her breasts and nipples with feathery strokes, making her long for him inside her again. He stepped away and dipped the brush into a can of paint and knelt down before her. With an impish look on his face he made a red streak up along her thigh. “I think I’ll start by painting you.”

27

Promises of Patchouli for the New Year End

28

Ann Cory Author Bio Erotic romance author Ann Cory invites you to sample her literary offerings in the hopes of leaving you with an acquired taste for sophisticated reading. Other sensual works with Ocean’s Mist Press include A Personal Assessment, Haunt Me Taunt Me, and Seducing Santa. Visit her website http://www.anncory.com for information on upcoming delectables.

29