Arizona
For M.
Arizona
Song: Arizona, by Kings of Leon
Chapter 12
Interruption came by way of the doorbell.
“Of course,” grumbled Caleb, budding his head into her stomach. His hands gripped her hips and he squeezed her tightly, pulling her closer, pushing his face into the hollow surface of her abdomen. “It always has to happen…”
She stroked his head and sighed.
“You make me forget the world, Caleb Followill. It’s not healthy.”
“Forgetting the world is in fact very healthy,” he argued, licking her belly, just below the navel. “It’s probably a Bible salesman. Or Mormons or something,” he proposed hopefully.
“I am pretty sure that it’s my mom. She and I are supposed to go shopping.”
“Shopping?” he exclaimed, rising to his feet. “And what am I supposed to do?”
“Well, I am sorry, but I wasn’t counting on you showing up last night. Stay here. Sleep. Don’t drink anything but coffee and water. You can also cook me dinner, if you so desire,” she winked at him.
He was mumbling gruffly, as he kissed her quickly and insatiably, not letting her go.
“My mom has keys!” she finally grasped, breathless, hating her mother right this second. But then she reminded herself that she wanted to be calm and she wanted to keep him in place, and not just jump on him at the first opportunity. She tore herself from his embrace and opened the window,
“Ma, I’ll be out in a second! Sorry, woke up late!”
“I’ll go get coffee,” said her mother. “Be ready in 10!”
“Will do!”
“Fine, go,” Caleb shrugged and shampooed his hair. “Clearly, you don’t care about my poor cock! Which will fall off in like 10 minutes.”
She was laughing loudly, as she dried herself off.
“Oh, poor winkie,”
“You serious—you just called my dick a “winkie”?”
She nodded, choking with laughter. Angry, whining, annoyed Caleb was her favourite Caleb. He was most entertaining, if unpersuasive, when he was angry.
“I would have thought that the well-being of my manhood was of more concern to you,” he continued in the same wounded tone, “as it gives you so much pleasure…”
“It gave me pleasure five times, six months ago,” she reminded him. “I’ve been living without the pleasure of your manhood since then…”
“And haven’t you had a crappy time for 6 months? Without it?” he nodded with assurance.
She didn’t answer. There was an uncomfortable pause. He didn’t know what to say. She wrapped a towel around her torso and then said,
“Well, I am sure that the mighty manhood was not without comfort and love in the past 6 months. So that tells me that it won’t fall off…”
Caleb smiled. He liked how she always kept him in place with her sharp tongue. There was no way she was going to cut him any slack, even though he knew that she loved him deeply and was desperately traumatised by their separation. However, he enjoyed her standing her ground.
“At least you are not insisting that you were faithful to me all this time. I appreciate that,” she smiled.
Caleb didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t faithful, that was a given. But it didn’t mean that he didn’t think of her when he encountered women in the past six months. In fact, every woman he saw, spoke with, touched, slept with and eventually left, he compared to her. Never favourably. None quite compared. At times, he wondered what it was about this one that grabbed him so fully and so quickly, but he was past the point of analysing his feelings for her. It was what it was. If he continued to over think it, he knew that he’d never come with a satisfactory answer anyway. He was fully convinced that no matter who crossed his path, the women he’ll inevitably sleep with would never give him what she gave him. The infatuation will always wane with time, and he’ll end up with just another girl. But this one…This one he craved. She became a necessity, and when they were apart, it was the first and only time when he truly suffered from the separation.
“Caleb,” she called out and entered the bathroom, already dressed in jeans and a plain top, which never the less accentuated her breasts so well, that simply from a passing glance, he felt his member move with desire. “Are you going to be okay?” she asked, watching him. He smiled and nodded. She didn’t need to worry about him. He was going to be quite all right, since he was with her.
“Promise me something?” she requested.
“I’ll cook dinner, I promise!” he exclaimed.
She chuckled and shook her head.
“That’s good. But what I’d like for you to do, is rest. We can always get dinner somewhere else. I want you to sleep and eat—that’s all.”
“You like a fatter man?” he laughed.
“I’d like a man whose waist is a bit thicker than that of a 9 year old child.”
“Ah…I guess.”
She came closer and opened the shower door. He turned off the faucet. She ran her hand over his wet face and said,
“You know, I really love you.”
‘Well, I promise to be good! When you come back, I’ll sing you a song.”
“Yay! A song?” she clapped and he gently put his wet hands on her hips, studying her face.
“A new song?”
“Not so new…I’ve been carrying it with me for a while. Wrote it, but haven’t been singing it to anyone. It’s a really pretty song. And also beautiful.”
“Pretty and beautiful?” her expression was slightly disbelieving.
“You think I can’t do pretty and beautiful?”
“I think that you can do whatever you want—your voice is amazing…But I am used to something along the lines of “you’re blowing like a feather”.”
Caleb laughed loudly and said defensively,
“Those are some good lyrics, you have to admit it.”
“I love the lyrics, but they aren’t pretty or beautiful. Well, now I am intrigued…” she sighed, “and I have to carry on thinking what sort of song this is. What’s the name?”
“No. Not gonna tell you. It’s named after a US state, that’s the only hint I am willing to give you.”
“Bah…This hint sucks, frankly.”
He kissed her softly, dripping water all over her body, but she didn’t care, and wrapped her arms around him tightly.
The doorbell rang insistently this time.
“Oh mothers…” he groaned with some sadness and released her.
Dillard’s just wasn’t what it used to be.
Generally, she liked spending time with her mother, as they always had an extremely close relationship, and up until now, she never kept any secrets from her mom. Not that there were secrets to keep. But here she was, constructing an invisible wall between them, and not even regretting it, because for Caleb, she was willing to go even further. She tried to will him out of her head, at least for an hour or two, but then would good would it be to even attempt it? For six months, he was constantly on her mind, ever-present, alive, the perpetual participant of her vivid daydreams, so how could she try to think of anything but him right now? Her skin was still scorched by the reminder of his touch, and even as she drove, she could visualise those huge square hands against her flesh, caressing and fondling her, the strength of the fingers and their sure touch.
“Honey, is that you?”
She turned around.
“It is you!”
BettyAnn, pretty, dark, well-dressed, clutching an expensive Coach bag in bejeweled fingers waved at her.
“Miss BettyAnn,” she smiled, “how are you?”
“Long time no see, hon. How’re you? Where have you been?”
“I’ve been…all right. This is my mother, Cathy,” she introduced the two women.
“And how do you know my daughter?”
“She’s been dating my son Tony a few months back,” explained the ever-honest BettyAnn.
“Really?” Cathy turned around and stared her fidgeting daughter down with fiery eyes.
“Tony hasn’t been the same, you know,” said BettyAnn quietly. “Not since you’ve left. I don’t know what had happened between the two of you, but to this day he just isn’t the same.”
She took her by the arm and pulled her aside.
“I am not going to ask what’s he done. I am sure he did something. But if you can find it in yourself to forgive him, please do. Breaks my heart to see him like this. He is a good boy,”
“I know Miss BettyAnn,” she stroked the woman’s hand, “I know. All’s forgiven.”
BettyAnn looked at her with some suspicion.
“You’ve patched things up? You are back together with him?”
“I can’t talk about it right now. My parents don’t know about Caleb…Tony,”
“I understand,” BettyAnn nodded quickly. “Forgive me! I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that. But I was so happy to see you. You can call me anytime. If he gets out of line, just ring me up, and I’ll try to straighten him out. He doesn’t always listen, but when it comes to you, he might.”
The next hour was spent explaining partial truths about who Tony was and why no one’s heard of him, and where he came from and what sort of man he was.
She tried to give a very vague and abbreviated version of both the man and the relationship, but her mother was not particularly satisfied with the half-baked tales.
At the end, they parted ways tittering on the verge of a fight, Cathy filled with all manner of suspicions and questions.
She opened the door to the apartment, closed it behind her and pressed her back against it, exhausted.
“Babe, you home?” the painfully familiar, soft, scratchy voice flooded her imagination with images so sexual and so tempting that she felt perspiration cover her back and a gush of liquid filled her womb almost instantly.
He appeared, handsome, compact, manly, with that beyond-handsome face of his grinning with a sharp, goofy smile.
“You good?” he asked, seeing her just stand there.
She was good. Moms and fights and lies and disagreements were forgotten with shocking immediacy. She didn’t care about any of it.
“I am all right,” she sighed with pleasure, and smiled at him.
“About time you came back too! I was getting lonely here. But I’ve made myself useful,”
“Have you?”
She took off her jacket and he came closer, filling her nostrils with his scent, that pleasant smell of tobacco and shampoo and baby oil and beer. His hair was tucked behind his ears, and she reached out and gently stroked the protruding, big ears and the bump on top of the left one. He pressed his forehead to hers and pulled her closer to him.
“Your faucet in the kitchen was leaking a bit, so I fixed that. The light in the coat closet wasn’t working,”
“You fixed that?” she exclaimed excitedly.
“Yeah,’ he nodded, pleased by her reaction.
“It’s been broken for months! My dad said I’d have to call an electrician, and I never got to doing it.”
“Well, now you’ve got a man in the house, so I am here to fix things for you.”
“It pays to have a man in the house…who also cooks, apparently,” she noted, sniffing the air that smelled of something good— savoury, garlicky, with a hint of spice.
“I don’t waste my time,” he huffed, rather proudly.
Unable to waste her time any longer, she pulled his head lower and pressed her lips to his full, soft mouth, kissing him hungrily. He pushed her against the door, one shove with the powerful shoulder so strong, that it sent her stumbling to the door, but he held her closely and lovingly with one firm, tanned arm around her waist. In the falling dusk and having neglected to turn on the light in the room, they stood still for a while, oblivious to the world and satisfied entirely with their closeness. Her cheeks, cold from the outside, were now aflame, and even in the thin shirt, she was hot, enveloped in the warm embrace of his powerful body. She did notice that as if by magic, in less than twenty four hours, he was looking and feeling much better. Gone was the sickly gauntness, the sunken cheeks, the pale, placid expression. The blue eyes were ocean blue again, deep, thoughtful and shining. The hair didn’t hang like limp sticks around his face, and strength had returned to his grasp, the familiar power of limbs and torso, that she loved so much.
“Are you going to sing me that song?” she murmured at last, placing kisses all over his cheeks.
“Ugh, we have time to sing songs later!”
She smiled and rubbed her hand over his freshly-shaved, smooth neck. The stubble that she was craving against her skin was gone, but by the same token, smoothly shaved, he was beautiful beyond belief. She couldn’t lose either way.
“Please…” she begged softly.
“We eat first! I can’t sing when I am hungry,” he laughed.
“Whatever the artiste needs to perform he shall have!”
In the kitchen, there was a bit of a mess, with the pots and pans, but obviously, she didn’t comment.
“What’s on the menu?”
“Sweet corn bisque and chilies rellenos.”
“Wow! You’ve managed all that in two hours? And you fixed the faucet and the light as well?”
“You were gone almost three hours,” he reminded her, with one cocked eyebrow.
“You paid attention?” she kissed the back of his neck.
“Most certainly did!”
They drank Corona, and then moved on to Margaritas, made with salt and lots of ice, which is the way she liked it the most. She ate so quickly, it was almost embarrassing. Caleb laughed and teased her about that, but the bisque was delicious, and she was one spoonful away from licking the bowl.
The dinner was long. They laughed. She told him of her travels, and he peppered the conversation with anecdotes from the tour. It was a bizarre life that he led, to say the least. So it was therefore even stranger that he seemed so normal and ordinary when he was here, in Nashville, and with her.
“Wanna go out?” he proposed.
“You don’t want to stay in with me, I am guessing,” she chuckled.
He rubbed his hands together and said,
“I feel antsy. Let’s go to Loser’s or something. If it wasn’t so far, I’d take you to Boobie Bungalow,”
“What is Boobie Bungalow?”
“An awesome and huge strip club, right off Rt. 65. You’ve never been there?”
She rolled her eyes and said,
“I am not exactly a typical strip club client, genius.”
He laughed and then went to put on his shoes.
She didn’t argue, even though she wished that they could stay in, but she didn’t want to watch him pace around and chew on his lip. The change’s been big for him as well. According to BettyAnn, he wasn’t himself for the past six months, and although he only mentioned his heartache in passing, she knew that it was there, eating at him.
Loser’s was busy, noisy, loud and dirty as usual. She’s been here before, a couple of times, but it wasn’t her favourite place. The strange mix of wannabe songwriters, cougars, pretty boys in expensive jeans and a few old-timers always struck her as odd, and she didn’t fit. Caleb muscled his way in to the bar, got them Michelob Ultra, paid and then dragged her to the back room, where it was smoky and dang, with crowded pool tables and The Golden Tee machines.
She didn’t play neither pool nor the machines, so she sat down and watched him chalk his cue stick and arrange the balls on the table. He lit a cigarette, and it dangled off his lip, as he bent over the table and began to shoot the balls. It was a curious position for her, because for once, she didn’t have to serve drinks, run around among the customers, clean the tables and bring food. That’s what it felt like to be on the other side! It made her smile, and she relaxed on the stool, sipping her beer and munching on nuts.
Caleb was almost done with the round, when her quiet contemplation and third beer were interrupted by a tall, large boy, clearly a Vanderbilt attendee, who wore his baseball cap askew and smelled heavily of booze.
“Buy you a drink?” he offered, plopping on a stool next to her, sitting so close that his thigh pressed against her legs. She shifted, trying to get away.
“I am all right,” she answered coolly, raising her bottle, and indicating that her drink was at hand.
“What’s a pretty girl doing all alone here?” he tried another tactic.
“I m not alone.”
“You look lonely.”
“I am quite all right. Now, I’d like to enjoy my drink in peace.”
“Come on, don’t be like that. I am just trying to be friendly,”
“Unnecessarily,”
He moved even closer, now almost on top of her, booze coursing through him, heavy hand squeezing her shoulder. She tried to shrug it off, but he held on.
“Could you fuck off?” she requested with icy politeness. Men who came on to her weren’t new, but this one was too brash for her liking. He was also very large, and a mixture of abrasiveness, drink and determination didn’t make him any more pleasant.
“The girl said she aint interested,” she heard a quiet, husky voice, coming from behind the guy.
“Who asked you?”
“Let’s just leave it be,” proposed Caleb peacefully.
“What, this unfriendly bitch is your hoe?” he guy smiled crookedly.
In one stride, Caleb reached the man, clasped his wrist and squeezed.
“What the fuck, man?” cried the guy, his face changing. He tried to shake off Caleb’s brutal hand, but to no avail.
“When a girl asks to be left alone, you listen,” Caleb hissed through clenched teeth. “And you don’t insult her either, just because she says “no” to you.”
“Fuck off, man!” growled the guy, pushing at Caleb, trying to wring his arm away, or start a fight, but he was drunk and waved his one available hand wildly in front of Caleb’s face. “Leave me the fuck alone! You gonna break my arm!”
“I intend to,” Caleb said flatly.
She got up and gently tried to interfere, but Caleb gave her one strong head shake, willing her to sit down.
‘We are just conversating,” he chuckled lightly, twisting the guy’s hand further, causing a stifled yelp.
‘All right, all right!” groaned his opponent, “enough!” he was pale and sweat beaded his brow, as he tried not to scream.
“What do you say?” prompted him Caleb.
“Fuck, fuck,” cried the guy. She watched a bruise spread over his arm, beneath Caleb’s thick fingers. “Sorry!” he groaned at last, “sorry. Just leave me alone.”
“Very good!” Caleb swiftly released his hold on the man’s arm. “I think we all learned a lesson here.”
He took her by the hand and said,
“Not the evening I was hoping for, but it is what it is. Let’s go, hon.”
Having him hold her hand so gently, the grasp of his fingers light, she wondered how it was even possible for him to have this vicious strength and such tenderness all at once.
“Oh, I had such a good game going,” he lamented, as they got in the car.
He pulled out of the parking spot and she brought his hand to her lips.
“Thank you.”
“Sorry that the evening got screwed up.”
“It’s all right. I don’t think that it was screwed up. This was the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
“What? Bust that dude’s arm?”
“Nah…just standing up for me. It was…I don’t know…He was so much bigger than you, and drunk too and kind of mean…But you did it. It was beautiful.”
“Well, since I am the only guy you’ve ever been with, it’s not saying much.”
He joked, but she could see that he enjoyed her compliments, and that he was able to do this for her.
It was a short ride to her place from Loser’s and as they approached the house, he pulled her closer and kissed her firmly, demandingly on the mouth.
As soon as she got out of the car, he swept from behind her and lifted her off the ground.
“Caleb, your arm!” she exclaimed.
“Is doing well, carrying you,” he smiled and kissed her again.
She fumbled with the keys, opened the door and he carried her in, kissing her insatiably, while she wrapped her arms around his neck, cradled against his chest.
“G-d, please,” he groaned against her lips, “I can’t stand it! Six months I’ve waited for you..Half a year all I could think of was being with you…It’s a long time.”
He kneeled in the middle of the room, on the rug, and placed her beside him. She did not unclasp her arms from around his body, stroking his back and the thick shoulders and arms, feeling him pull her hair from the ponytail and let it tumbled about her. His hot lips kissed her chin, biting her neck softly, drawing his tongue over her collarbone and slipping to her chest, dipping into her cleavage. He licked on the pleasant little cleft between her breasts, while working on the numerous buttons of her shirt, trying to pace himself and not damage another garment of hers.
She pulled his shirt over his head and swallowed hard, as her breasts brushed against his chest, and the hair on his belly tickled her stomach. Unable to help herself, she pressed her lips to his chest and licked slowly on his skin, brushing her lips over the roughness of the hair, smelling the surprising scent of lemon that came off his flesh. He pulled her closer, threw her shirt and bra to the side and eagerly filled his thick, rough palms with her breasts. She heard a strangled gasp that escaped his lips when she swiped her tongue over his nipples, and he squeezed her breasts harder, fondling her, sliding his hands over her appetising roundness. She pushed him down and he lay flat on the rug. His chest rose and fell rapidly, and she saw his face and neck flush a pretty pink colour, as he watched her half-naked body tower over him. Straddling him, his firm, compact hips locked between her thighs and the thickness of his member budding into her sex, she caressed his arms and neck slowly, making him gasp and moan with desire, slowly working her hips against him, coaxing the desired response.
He pulled on the belt of her jeans, roughly unzipped them and pushed his hand inside, grasping her belly and her hips, feeling the warmth of her flesh in his hands.
“The song…” she murmured.
“What song?” he asked, confused.
“You promised me a song,” she reminded him, leaning forward and kissing him softly on the lips. He licked her tongue and shook his head,
“You can’t be serious! Not now. I can’t,”
“Why not now?” she wondered playfully, gingerly sliding out of her jeans, revealing her nakedness to him inch by inch.
“I don’t even remember the words!”
“Liar.”
“Can you please leave me alone with this song!” he begged. “I am not going to sing it!”
“Fine,” she made a move to get up, but he anticipated it and pressed her onto himself.
“That taste, all I ever needed…all I ever wanted…too drunk to surrender…she shakes, like a monorail way, checking me out,” he muttered, not really singing it, but mouthing the words, like a mantra. Her nipples popped in and out of his mouth, as he kissed and licked on her, draped in the lush cascade of her hair. She couldn’t stop kissing him, hungry after all this time for his taste and his scent and the feeling on his skin and mouth on her lips.
“The lamp, flickers in the bedroom, she must feel as awkward…Whorehouse, Arizona…”
Slowly, gradually, she allowed him inside of her, once his member was finally freed from the confines of his jeans. He looked straight at her, his face full of love and satisfaction and longing. That, which he had craved with such ferocity, was finally here, and he was going to enjoy every moment of the act. She lowered herself onto him, breath emptying out of her lungs entirely, the overwhelming fullness, just about forgotten, assaulting her every sense like a sledgehammer. She cried out loudly, gripping his shoulder, as unexpected, hot, irrational tears spilled out of her eyes.
He sat up at once and took her in his arms, kissing her feverishly, running his fingers through her hair. The line between pleasure and pain was crossed again and again, every time she rose and fell on him, the massive shaft overwhelmingly large, its bulk unfamiliar, yet something she craved beyond all reason.
“I kinda think I like her…I kinda think I do…” he murmured between kisses, stroking her back soothingly, pushing into her, but allowing her the time and opportunity to adjust to the sensations. She brushed her thumb over his full lips, running her finger down the cleft on his chin, and then leaned in and nuzzled on his neck. He was all here, for her, her own, for however short a period of time, but at last, both of them were together and nothing could change that. He held him in her arms, kissing his face and his hands, which squeezed a man’s hand to almost breaking point today, yet stroked her breasts with such delicacy, licked the thick fingers which were capable of too many wonderful things—strumming the guitar, fixing a faucet, chopping chilies and garlic, rubbing her nipples…He pushed into her, steady and unhurried, prolonging the pleasure, even though she knew that he wanted to rage inside of her and explode impatiently and gregariously.
Nothing could possibly ever feel as good as this, the hot, ceaseless thrusting, which made the world fall around her, and obliterated her body to a bubbling pool of pure ecstasy. The forgotten pleasure of him was remembered instantly and vividly, and she thrashed on his lap, her hair draping his legs, her naked body moulding seamlessly into his. For once, she thought that she knew what it felt like when blood boiled inside her body, the heat and pure gratification of her every need bursting all over her.
…Their naked bodies tangled on the floor, they lay motionless, perhaps even senseless for what seemed like hours.
She still couldn’t stop kissing him. Lips, arms, shoulders, chest, belly. He was still, with just a smile lightening his features. He was relaxed and at peace.
“Can I stay here with you?” he asked her at last.
“Please do.”
“Good,” he sighed contently.
She sat up and he kissed her knee, wrapping his arm around her bottom, keeping her close. She didn’t make a move to leave, but stroked his head lovingly.
“Who was she?” she asked at last.
“Who?” he asked.
“The girl. In the song. By the way, you better sing that song to me fully! What you did, really didn’t count.”
He chuckled and nodded,
“Whatever you want.”
“So?”
“Someone I met…” he cleared his throat. “I don’t feel right talking about someone else right now. With you here, naked, beautiful, in front of me.”
“It’s all right. Please tell me,” she stooped and kissed him, taking his hand in hers.
“So…when we broke up,” he coughed, “like I said, I did some things. Got into a funk. You know, was missing you a lot and was just thinking about you all the time. We were in Arizona and I spent some time in the desert,”
She remember his love for the desert, which he had mentioned to her on a number of different occasions, and nodded.
“And then,” he continued, “Nathan and I got kind of wasted and high on stuff, and we decided to go to a brothel.”
He glanced quickly at her, but she did not react.
“I am sorry,” he apologised again.
She nodded, but didn’t say anything.
“So I came in, and looked around, and saw this girl…And my heart fell, because she was so beautiful, and she looked exactly like you.”
“Me?”
“Only the eyes were different. The most important thing, right? But it blew me away. Someone like you, so fine, so unbelievable, in a place like that. Broke my heart, it did.
“All I could think was, why was she there? What happened? And what would I do if I knew that you were in a place like that?
“The whole thing totally messed with my head. All I wanted was you, and here you were, for the taking, for me to do whatever I felt like.”
She cringed internally, but displayed no emotion.
“I wondered if it was a sign from G-d or something. I was really confused, because if it were a sign, what did it mean? I still don’t know. Just remember that it made me feel even worse about life and love, and what I did to you and to us. Man, was I fucked up!” he smiled crookedly, unhappily.
“What did you do with her?”
“Nothing,” he shrugged. “Didn’t go with her. Took another one. She held no mystery to me.”
“Why didn’t you take her?” she was perplexed.
“’Cus I love you,” he said quietly. “And it would’ve been like going against everything decent in me, to take her. I felt like if I did it, this strand that connects me and you would be cut forever. It freaked me out. I was spooked to even think about it.
“I don’t think that I am a bad person, even though I am a fuck up. But once in a while, I feel like I redeem myself by doing something good or special. And you are a really good thing in my life, so I try to hold on to you real tight. I don’t know, but I think that G-d maybe gave you to me for a reason, as a reward for something.
“And sleeping with that girl would’ve been equivalent to throwing my reward away, forever. And I couldn’t do it.
“I think that “Arizona” is a very pretty song. And you were behind it. The memory of how you made me feel gave me the idea for the melody, and the story of us and my massive failure allowed me to write the lyrics. So all in all, I got a good thing out of it.”
She thought for a second and then said,
“I am glad that you didn’t go with that girl. It was the right thing to do.”
“I think so too.”
He looked up at her and then asked quietly,
“So after all this, will you still have me?”
“When you said “I kinda think I like her, I kinda think I do” did you mean me or her?”
“You.”
“Then I’ll have you.”
