********************************************************

True Confessions, part 1

By: Trynia Merin

Paul and she had returned to the hotel in solemn silence, and now she

left the hotel room to return home. Strange awkwardness drove her to

leave him far behind with many heated words of accusation.

"You can't just make it right with even this..." she had said. "Where

did you go..."

"I can't really say... I went to see an old friend who needed me..."

"But I needed you..."

"I'm sorry, this isn't easy for me..."

"It's not easier for me..." she shouted, and stormed out of the room.

"Then you will or won't take the job?" he asked. "At least give me a

freaking chance to make it right?"

"What do you think, Paul? I'm sorry, but I've got a lot to think

about..."

"Okay... you need space, fine. Just remember, the offer still stands..."

She slipped away, excusing herself before he could see her angry

tears. After all he had gotten her fired from her job! She picked

up her car keys and briefcase as she left. She well knew when Paul

had to leave for Los Angeles, where the next leg of the tour would

resume in two days.

"Goodbye Paul," she said, looking back at the hotel before she left

the lobby. It wasn't too far to the parking lot where her car was

parked. It was for the best, she told herself. Even though she

appreciated the job offer, this was something she had to face alone.

Something told her that things weren't quite right, suspicion

burning inside her. Her gut feeling had never been wrong before.

It was her life, wasn't it?

*******************************************************

Next day, her feet ached when she left Chemistaff 1, a temporary

staffing service. So far the interview had gone well, and they

promised to call her as soon as a job came up matching her criteria.

Fortunately they had been willing to schedule an interview as soon

as she had walked in with her resume. Even so she wondered if this

was the right choice.

Glancing at her watch she noticed it was 10am. 12 hours after a

fresh nights sleep and a good hot shower in her own apartment.

Fortunately she had enough saved up to cover this month's expenses.

Beyond that, who knew? Around her neck something jingled and tugged

at her neck. She reached into her blouse and tugged the chain free

of her bra strap where it had caught. Between thumb and finger she

peered at the rose pendant, worked with a shimmering diamond among

the rose petals.

Sighing, she unlatched the pendant and put into a pocket of her

purse. As soon as she had his address she would send it back. Where

was he now? She remembered he had a tight schedule to record the

last track in LA, or so he had said. There was no question he had to

leave now or else loose a profitable day's recording at the studio

there.

No question at all that all band members had to make this recording

session, followed by a press conference and their latest performance.

She couldn't think of this now without feeling her throat knot up.

Quickly Terri pushed those latest revelations from her brain when she

pulled up to her apartment, and parked on the street in front.

When she exited the car and walked up the stairs to her front door,

she didn't notice the black limo pulling up opposite the house where

she made her apartment. Inside the limo, the figure sunglasses up

his face to confirm the address he had scribbled down.

**********************************************

Terri pushed open the lace curtains in her bedroom to let a little

more light in. She knew there was a chance that someone might look

in, but who the hell would be tempted this time of day? Quickly she

stripped off her encumbering business suit and draped her nylon

stockings over the back of her desk chair. For a moment she let the

wind hit her bare skin before digging out a T-shirt to pull on.

Strains of "Only You" drifted in the background. Despite what many

KISS fans thought, she liked this 'concept album' which many thought

was the biggest mistake the band could have made.

It was then that the phone rang. Raising an eyebrow she debated

about whether or not to answer it. She let it ring, and the machine

clicked on. Oddly enough whoever it was hung up. Terri wandered

into her living room, bare legged with her T-shirt hanging around her

knees. Under her feet the carpet felt soft and inviting, and she

enjoyed the feel of it on her aching toes.

Dark Light clicked on, and she wandered into the kitchen to fix

herself something for a late afternoon snack. Again the phone rang,

and she whirled about at the sudden sound. Should she answer it? It

could be the agency with a possible contract. She hadn't bothered to

check the messages she had accumulated while she was gone, electing

to erase the tape. Terri could guess who had left the five messages

recorded there on answering machine.

Again the phone rang. "This is getting silly!" Terri muttered.

Angrily she picked up the phone, automatically saying, "I don't want

any! I can't afford..."

"Hello yourself sweetheart," came a voice. She shivered when she

realized who it was.

"If this is some charity... I just lost my job..."

"This may be your lucky day. You have a minute to talk?"

"Depends on what it's about," she answered. "If this is some sick

joke..."

"Look, I really need to talk to you. It's important..."

"How do I know you're really Gene?" she asked. "For al I know you

could be some smart-assed fan who's gotten my address and phone

number from God knows where."

"Ask me anything..."

"What color underwear am I wearing?" she asked with a slight smirk.

There was a momentary hesitation, and the sound of rustling papers.

"White, with purple flowers on them..." came the answer. "Goes well

with that Solo album shirt you have on your lovely body. The one

Paul gave you..."

That was Gene all right, she nodded to herself ruefully. Only he

would be bothering to play peeping tom.

"Which comes to why I'm here..."

"I thought you'd be in LA recording those last tracks..."

"We hit a technical snag...

"Gene why are you here?"

"I understand Paul offered you a job. I was just here to ask you why

you didn't take it?"

"I'm considering all possibilities..." she said.

"Why?"

"Unlike you gentleman I can't just pull up my tent stakes and go

wherever I like. For instance I signed a one year lease on this

place... and there's a little thing called money that I have very

little of..."

"Something that we'd be willing to help you out with..." came Gene's

voice.

"I'm a professional Gene," she said. "A chemist. I can't just take

any job that comes along..."

"Look, it's hard to talk like this. Can't you let me speak to you

face to face?"

"Okay," Terri relented. "Give me a minute to make myself decent...

not like I really need to..."

"Fair enough..." Gene agreed. She clicked off the phone. A few

minutes later she answered the knock at the door. Swinging it open

she glanced up into a pair of soft brown eyes that towered head and

shoulders over her. Black leather pants conformed to a wrestler's

body, matching the leather jacket and black denim shirt he wore.

His long hair was pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of his

neck, and she could see the distinctive markings of age lining the

handsome face. Still he looked damned good, she inwardly thought.

She'd have to watch it with him, knowing how he could be around the

ladies.

She could feel his eyes tracing up and down her body, dressed

casually in the solo album T shirt and blue sweat pants with

Villanova in large white letters down the left leg. Most ladies, she

told herself. Terri knew she could resist his charms well enough.

At least for the time being.

"So why are you really here? Did Paul send you to come get me?" she

said, resting a hand on her hip. "To drag me kicking and screaming

to the opportunity of my lifetime?"

"I came of my own volition, doll. I'm worried about a friend," Gene

said seriously, the 'I'll eat you alive' look fading from his face

when he went from leisure to business in thirty seconds. Did he mean

Paul, or someone else?

"C'mon in," she said, realizing he wasn't going to leave. It would

be rude to slam the door in his face, because despite her better

judgment she did admire the man. Not to mention she found him

extremely attractive right now, for some reason.

"Want anything to drink?" she asked. "I'm afraid diet Coke and

water's all I have..."

Gene watched her turn to the kitchen, and shut the door behind him.

She grabbed two cans of coke, and turned to find Gene right behind

her.

"All right, there is a thing called personal space..." she sighed.

"I'm serious. I need to talk, doll. Level with me..." he said,

leaning his arm against the fridge and pinning her there between his

body and the door. "You and Paul... you care about him, right?"

"Here's your soda," she said, pushing the can into his hand and

dodging under his arm to move into the living room.

"Terri... why didn't you take the job he offered you? We start

performing tomorrow! And Paul's worried sick that you..." Gene

asked, chasing her into the living room. She sat down on the couch

and cracked open her soda. Picking up the remote she switched on the

TV.

"Okay, you want it straight Gene?" she asked, when he lowered himself

to sit right next to her. "I like him a lot... but I resent being

uprooted in my life. I worked hard to build a career as a chemist.

Most of my life spent in school. The type of life you guys led...

its one city to the next. He might be with me this month. But when

I'm no longer the flavor of the month... I need to know I have

something to fall back on."

"Damn, you know the drill, don't you," Gene shook his head.

"I have no illusions. I know who you guys are. Love em and leave

em."

"Don't you think for a moment that you might be different?" Gene

asked.

"You're asking me that?" she laughed sadly. "Gene, I'm a scientist.

I deal in facts and statistics. I know from past experience what

KISS is like when it comes to women."

"He was damned disappointed when you didn't come with him yesterday..."

"But we had an argument!" she shot back.

"So? Maybe he and you can work things out!" Gene said, exasperated.

He was getting nowhere fast with this one. "I wasn't lying when I

said I came myself. I saw how down in the dumps he was when he got

on the plane yesterday morning. Ace and Peter had already gotten

there on the KISS jet."

"Paul has faced disappointment before," Terri glanced matter of fact

to Gene, sipping her coke.

"Not like this. I had to almost wring it out of him what happened.

Guy's in such a funk he said he didn't give a shit about tonight's

show. He's already feeling like shit because he knows he got you

fired! I knew there was a chance maybe I could convince you myself

to come back with me and take the job he offered... "

"Well, Paul's guilt is his own fault," Terri said firmly. "I'm not

responsible for that."

"Can't you at least let him iron out the kinks?" Gene asked her,

setting his can of diet soda on the coffee table. "When Paul gets

into a funk, you know what he's like! And besides, don't you think

if you at least got together and hashed this out... you'd come to some

understanding. I mean, I take it you're sweet on him..."

"That's too bad. I'm only trying to make things easier for both of

us in the long run. I can't throw my life away on Paul's whims...

any more then you could throw your life in KISS away on some woman

you met. You and Paul are KISS, as much as I am a scientist. It's

my profession. The same as yours or any other mans."

"You wouldn't be throwing your life away!" Gene smacked his thigh.

"Don't you realize the opportunity..."

"Gene you are on your farewell tour..." she sighed, staring him

straight in the face. "What happens to job security once you're

done?"

"You can be guaranteed employment for at least the duration of the

tour..." Gene said.

"After that?"

"There are many places in California to work... for our

organization..."

"But it's the principle of the thing, Gene. To be handed some job

because I was good in bed... that's not how I work. I like to at

least know I have the criteria for the job..."

"But Paul offered you the job because he was responsible for getting

you fired from your last one! Can't you let him help?"

"Gene... I wasn't even hired based on my skills!"

"Well, can't you at least let him even the score?" Gene sighed,

folding arms across his chest.

"It's just not right..."

"Hey, wait a minute..." Gene said slowly, catching the look of anger in

her dark eyes, as dark as his own. "You're really doubting if Paul

cares for you?"

"Call it a gut feeling Gene..."

"I don't want to take the job just because he feels sorry for me. I

have my pride after all. I can find a job somewhere else. I don't

need his handouts!"

"Shit, this is just perfect..." Gene muttered under his breath. It was

taking all his self-control not to come right out with the truth.

"Paul's an incorrigible flirt like you are. But at least you're

honest..."

"Honest, yeah..."

"To tell the truth, I feel he was only seeing me as a challenge...

trying to bed a smart woman for a change. A conquest. Mr. Romance

and flowers. Then on to the next woman. His offering the job was

just his trying to save his ass and come clean."

"Well, we're used to that..." Gene admitted. Boy was she reading Paul

like a book! Regret filled him at what he was about to do.

"You're honest about it at least," she looked at him.

"Yeah, honest," Gene muttered.

"Gene... what's going on?" she asked him, seeing that pensive look

cloud the dark eyes.

"Nothing," Gene answered, taking a swig of soda.

"Bullshit," Terri folded her arms. "It's something about Paul, isn't

it?"

Gene sighed, folding arms across his chest. Paul sure knew how to

pick them sometimes, he inwardly muttered. It was frustrating and a

massive turnon to be dealing with such a stubborn girl. To boot she

was highly intelligent, and could see through his story quite well.

Too well.

"Well, it's like this..."

"You saw Paul with someone else, didn't you? And you don't want to

tell me about it?" she asked, voice low.

"Terri..." he started, then shut up again. Uncomfortably he crossed

and uncrossed his knees.

"I had a feeling..." she whispered, eyes clouding over as she looked

away. Slowly she rose from the couch, pulling off her glasses. Gene

felt trapped between saying anything else, and remaining silent. By

his silence he had admitted the truth of the situation.

"Who was it? Was that why he disappeared without telling me... leaving

me that note?"

"Damn it I wish you weren't' so fucking smart," he sighed.

Terri dug through the trash, and pulled out Paul's note. Again she

read the text aloud, and Gene continued to sit there, paralyzed

momentarily.

"This is a Dear John note," she muttered, and hurled it down in

disgust. "He went to see someone when he left, didn't he? But out

of guilt he came back... is that it?"

"No, that's not what I saw," Gene blurted out. Then shut up again

when he picked up the discarded wad of paper.

"What did you see?"

"He had to come back because one of his friends was in an accident.

That's what he told me... and then I saw him in this strange funk when

he was stringing his guitar. Singing got to choose under his

breath..."

"A friend in an accident? Was this friend female?"

"He didn't say in the phone call when he called us to tell us where

the hell he was. We assumed he was with you, but then it surprised

the hell outta me to hear he'd up and split and was calling from

somewhere in New York City!"

"Did he see his 'friend'?" Terri almost spat, whirling around.

"Let's just say doll, when he came back for the next rehearsal, he

had a blond on his arm that me and the guys knew all too well. With

a cute little cast and on crutches. They ordered takeout, and he

came back very late for rehearsal the next day."

"Who was this friend gene?"

"His ex wife Pamela..."

"But if that's so, why did he come back?"

"She wanted to get back together with him. They had been trying for

some time for a reconciliation till this contest started." Gene

muttered. "But when she heard about you it put her over the edge,

and it fell through. They had a big argument and she left in a huff.

Paul was heartbroken. And then he hopped another plane on the way

back to see you... and..."

"Oh god," Terri got out, pulling off her glasses as she crumpled to

the floor. It seemed like her legs gave way. In a heartbeat Gene's

legs carried him off the sofa and to her side. He caught her against

himself, steadying her.

"I... I'm so sorry," Gene got out. "I didn't want to tell you... I

thought maybe it wouldn't matter... because I figured he was guilty for

it, and realized what a putz he was being..."

"What was so great about her?" Terri spat, turning around in Gene's

arms. "Long legs to heaven, blond and a great ass? Could she write

a goddamned song, or an equation? She's a fucking actress, and I'm a

nobody, without a goddamned job!"

"No way, baby," Gene got out before Terri threw her glasses onto the

table. She buried her head in her hands, shaking uncontrollably.

She broke away from Gene, bending almost double at the waist as she

sobbed through her hands. The muffled cries made him follow her to

the kitchen, wondering what she would do next. "Son of a fucking

bitch!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, not caring who would

hear. Her fist pounded the doorway to the kitchen, almost denting

the wood in her anger. Pain made her wince and nurse her bruise.

Whirling around she walked right into Gene who had moved up behind

her.

Finally she accepted his embrace, burying her face in his denim

shirt. Arms held her close, his voice low as he shushed her. Only

he seemed real at this moment, and Terri felt as if she wanted to rip

and strangle Paul for what he had done.

"Why? Why the hell did I have to fall for him?" she cried. Gene

continued to stroke her back, making shushing noises.

"Most women ask that," Gene laughed ironically. "He's the goddamned

heartbreaker of the band, after all!"

"Why did he even bother with me? That's what I like to know? Other

then my talent, I can't compare with those women... those beautiful

people! Why did he even get serious when he wanted to get back with

his ex? And then I'm the first person he turns to for a piece of ass

for a consolation prize!"

"Yeah, it sucks..." Gene sighed, taking her hand and gripping it

tightly. "You see why I didn't want to tell you... the last thing I

wanted was to see you get burned. Godamn it I should have done

something from the start..."

"What?"

"You're a smart, sexy woman, Terri. It's not right he did you wrong.

Paul's a playboy. You're far too good for him. And like a dumbass

I stood back and let it happen. If anyone's to blame it's me..."

"Please Gene..." she sighed. "Don't make it any harder then it already

is... I opened my heart and got burned... story of my goddamned life. He

wants a glamorous woman, not a nerdish freak who's a reject from a

chemistry lab..."

"Oh stop! You're making yourself sound like a biological mistake,"

Gene groaned. "Last time I checked, there was only one Frankenstein...

and people didn't dig him because they never gave him a chance.

Hell, look at me! I wasn't born rich and famous, and neither was

Paul! And I'm no Mel Gibson..."

"And the chicks still dig you," she laughed sadly. "You're just so

animalistically attractive they're drawn to your irresistible

sexuality. Or else they're just sick of your incessant flirting!"

"Half it it's because I'm rich and famous. They want a piece of the

Demon. I give the fans what they want."

"It's not the fame I mind..." she interrupted him. "I can deal with

limos and groupies. It's the feeling like I'm a piece of goddamned

meat I hate. Paul can't just waltz in, romance me and screw up my

life without taking responsibility..."

"Now wait..."

"Oh here it comes... the big speech about knowing what I was getting

into. Save it Gene, I don't wanna hear it! I was obviously either a

second choice, or a safety blanket he could just take for granted,

like everything else he's gotten because he is who he is!"

"Don't say that," Gene shook his head. "Look..."

"That's how I feel, Gene!" she shouted, pulling her hand from his.

"All I wanted was honesty!"

"He should have leveled with you then," Gene nodded slowly. "Me, I

see a woman, and I let her know right up front what I am. I'm not

the type who's gonna get married and tied down. I'm a slut, plain

and simple..."

"Exactly. That's who you are, and admit it..."

"I don't go for head games...."

"I've got better things to do then play games now," she snorted, as

he passed her a tissue.

"That's what makes you so attractive, other then the fact you've got

a nice ass, lovely hips, and an exceptionally nice rack," Gene

admitted. "You're a woman with your own mind, who knows what she

wants. It's irresistible to men like Paul... men like me who have

everything they could want. For Paul it's a challenge to seduce an

unattainable woman..."

"Well then, he's very good at what he does. But there are some

things you can't fix with flowers and money. Sometimes all someone

like me wants is to feel special... to be held or made love to once in

a while. No strings even..."

"So you're not adverse to one night stands?"

"Not at all. Just as long as the person is honest with me. I just

can't believe I'm having this conversation with you of all people!

By now I half thought you'd be getting me alone so you could seduce

me..."

"Would that disappoint you that I'm not?" Gene asked with a

mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"Oh shut up!" she laughed, smacking his knee. "Down boy! Seriously,

what do you look for in a woman anyway? Who's the best you've ever

had?"

"The woman I'm with at the time," Gene admitted.

"Now that's a Gene answer if I heard one," she laughed, wiping a tear

away. "I can live with that..."

"Can you? That's very interesting. Because from what Paul had said..."

Gene asked simply, his eyes fixing her in a stare that made her feel

quite uneasy. Uneasy in a deliciously unsettling way. Rather like

the first hill of a wild new roller coaster. She knew the ride would

be fun at the end, but it was climbing the first hill.

"What exactly did Paul say about me?" she asked him, meeting his

gaze. "That I was a good lay? Or that I was a disappointment?"

"Now why would you say that?" Gene asked, giving her a dig in the

ribs. "Stop selling yourself short! It kills the conversation!"

"I'm sorry... can you blame me?"

"No, considering the circumstances. You've got a lot on your mind...

and it's okay... I'm not here to judge you. You need someone to

listen, and since you're hell bent on venting about Paul, who better?

After all, who knows him better then his buddy Gene?"

"What the hell did I do wrong?"

"Absolutely nothing," Gene said, taking her hand again. Lightly he

stroked the back, and the action seemed to calm her down a little

bit. Her eyes were swollen and red from crying, and Terri felt like

the most unattractive thing on two feet in her t shirt and Villanova

sweat pants, her hair in a tousled mess from that hairclip.

"And I like a woman to look me in the face when I'm talking to her,"

he added, taking her shoulder and turning her torso to face him. His

leather clad thigh brushed close to hers, the warmth shooting through

her like wildfire. She felt her face flush as his gaze fixed into

hers. All he had to do was look at her and she felt herself loose

control.

"You're making me nervous," she grumbled.

"Really. How am I making you nervous?" he asked, his voice lowered

to a tone that made her shiver.

"You're doing that thing with your voice, and giving me that 'I'll

eat you alive stare' that you're so famous for," she laughed.

"And what would that be?" he continued, amused at her reaction.

"Don't bullshit me," she shook her head. "You know exactly what

you're doing. I bet right now you're imagining what I'd look like

naked under these clothes. Waiting for the right moment to jump my

bones..."

"My you do use a mix of slang with the intelligent vocabulary, don't'

you? I like it when a woman is both intelligent and down to earth at

the same time..." he teased her. "And you're sure you've got me

figured out? Why exactly does it make you nervous?"

"Because... I rather enjoy it..." she breathed deeply. "And I'm afraid

of what might happen next..."

"What do you think will happen next?" Gene asked her, pressing her

hand to his lips and giving it a soft kiss.

"What's your hypothesis?"

"Well for starters, you're lowering your voice into that slow sexy

tone you just know is making me nervous... and the way you're stroking

my hand like that... it's really weird, but I would have expected a guy

like you to have larger hands... I mean they are a good size mind you...

but in proportion..."

Here she took his one hand and pressed her palm into his. Firmly he

pressed against hers, and his fingers curled over the ends of her

small short ones. Like Paul's they were soft on the palms, and hard

and callused on the fingers from his musicianship. He took her hand

in both of his, slowly and deliberately massaging it between his.

"You like that... don't you..." he whispered.

"There, you're modulating your voice. So I have to lean closer to

hear it... I half expected you to pretend to yawn so you could put your

arm around me..."

"Really? You think I'd resort to such a childish prank?" Gene

chuckled. "Honestly, who do you think you're dealing with?"

"Yes, shame on me. That's too obvious for you..."

"Indeed," he smiled, turning up the smolder in his gaze. Suddenly

she felt his hand on her cheek, slowly caressing it with the back.

He moved his fingers over her lips, lightly fingering her teeth. She

lightly brushed her tongue along the exploring finger, eliciting an

amused chuckle from him. Her hand stole up his thigh, stroking and

caressing. She couldn't help wanting to explore further.

"Now that's very interesting, isn't it?" he laughed lightly. "You're

perfectly aware of what I'm doing, and yet you seem very far from

wanting it to stop, don't you?"

"Very," she nodded, her breath coming in short gasps when she felt

his arm steal around her shoulder and draw her close so her chest was

pressed up against his. All of a sudden she realized how close he

have moved. Every reason why this shouldn't be happening flew out of

the window, and she realized she wasn't thinking about Paul at this

moment. Perhaps that was what Gene wanted, but she didn't care.

"It's best to get this over with now, isn't it..." she asked. His

eyebrows raised in question, but she leaned forwards and touched her

lips ever so tentatively to his. A hot flush claimed her face when

she felt his hands moving across her chest experimentally. For a

moment she savored the sensual feel of full perfect lips against her.

Why he didn't open his mouth surprised her, rather taking his time

to inhale the ghost of shampoo on her hair, and the scent of her warm

soft skin. Drawing back she opened her eyes and noticed that he had

the look of a detached observer. Her reaction was just as important

to him as his own pleasure. In fact she guessed he derived pleasure

from seeing her own.

"You're playing with me now... waiting to see if I'll loose my nerve,"

she whispered.

"IT isn't what you expected, was it?" he laughed.

"The stories all say different things about you," she flushed. "In

fact..."

"And which stories would those be?"

"The ones on the egroups listing..." she began, but felt her breath cut

off in her throat when he pulled her close to him, sealing her lips

with his own. This time she felt the heady rush of firm lips moving

hungrily over hers. Arms folding around his neck she buried her

hands in his hair, drinking in the sensation that flooded her.

"I'm impressed," he smiled, fingering her nose when they drew back

for breath.

"I didn't think this was a contest..."

"It isn't. Only with yourself... so just relax. Unless you don't want

to do this. If you don't... just tell me, all right?"

"Believe me, I couldn't stop even if I wanted to..." she gasped, laying

a kiss on his cheek. He sighed deliciously when she combed fingers

through his mass of wiry soft hair. A low growl sounded in his

throat when she traced a hand up his chest and under his jacket.

"To tell the truth I'm not sure of what I want..."

"Why don't you tell me, now that you have my undivided attention?' he

whispered, leaning close to breath into her ear. Slowly he tugged at

her T-shirt, pulling it up out of the waistband of her sweat pants.

She lifted her arms without thinking, letting him pull it over her

head gently and lay it across the coffee table. For a moment his

eyes took in the sight of her chest, covered in the black lace bra

she still had on from work. Lightly he ran his finger over the lace,

slipping toward her back. His lips lowered to her sensitive neck,

guiding her hands to his chest again. She pushed his leather jacket

off his black shirt, gasping as he ran his tongue down her

goospimpled flesh. The path stopped just below her braline, and she

leaned forwards so he could unfasten it and pull it away.

"I like that..." she managed to get out.

"Good, he smiled.

************************************************************

True Confessions, part 2

She unbuttoned his shirt and running her hands under the cloth to

explore his chest. He did not have the abundance that Paul did, but

she liked what she felt. Slowly she started to unbutton it, inhaling

the scent of fabric softener and musk cologne that impressed itself

into her mind. His kisses extended to her shoulder, tongue exploring

the firm and soft parts of her exposed breasts. He was taking his

time savoring each one, pulling her one thigh to rest on his lap, and

pinning her in place as he rested his other on top. This allowed

him to shift his body to press his now bared chest to hers. Again he

made eye contact, savoring the pleasure in her face.

"I want my own life," she whispered back, breathe coming in short

gasps. "To be appreciated for who I am, and not have to apologize

for who I am, or the decisions I make..."

"Mmm hmm," Gene nodded. "And what else?"

"Not to be jerked around by anyone... ohh god..." she moaned, shivering

with embarrassment with the sound of it from her own lips. Again he

trapped her lips in a deep kiss, teasing her lips with his tongue.

She beat him to coaxing her lips apart, running her own tongue

lightly inside his moist mouth. A shiver shuddered her whole body

when their mouths merged in an intricate dance, arms wrapping around

his neck tightly. He freed her thighs from his, pulling her to

straddle him instead. Under her she felt his arousal with her own

satisfaction. He pulled back again, as she gripped the cloth of his

shirt to pull it out of his pants.

"Go on... if this is what you want, doll..." he urged her, voice low and

deep. "I'm not stopping you. Tell me what you want right now?"

"Actually I'd love to kick Paul's ass," she chortled, feeling the

tears come again.

"And I was doing so well till now that you didn't say a word about

him," Gene teased her. "We'll have to do something about that, won't

we. Besides if there is any ass kicking to be done, leave that to

me..."

"How gallant of you. So if someone were to come in and force their

way in here... you'd actually give them a reason to forget it?"

"Definitely. You are far too beautiful and sexy of a woman for a

playboy such as Paul... and right now I'm going to give you a reason to

forget about him and his little game... for now..." Gene smiled, leaning

forwards. He latched her legs around his waist, and got up with no

effort, lifting her up in his arms. Paul had done this with

difficulty, but for Gene it seemed almost too easy. Tenderly he

carried her toward her bedroom, kicking open the door with one booted

foot. She pushed his shirt off and threw it down when they entered.

His eyes made a quick survey of her room and the posters there

before laying her gently on the bed. He pulled aside the sheets and

tugged them out from under her. Leather clad thighs straddled her

hips as Paul had done. From above his full weight pressed down on

her, hands massaging her breasts lightly. She guided his hands to

her waist, and he only took a minute to strip off the sweatpants,

tugging them down before shifting onto her again. He guided her

small hands to his belt, waiting to see if she would continue.

For a moment she hesitated, peering up into his eyes to see the dark

desire present. "Do you want me?" he asked, holding her hands in

place. All she could manage was a nod. Bending over her brushed his

tongue over her lips, making her shiver spasmodically. She didn't

feel frightened at all. Soon she unfastened his belt and tugged the

pants down. He shifted off to his side to remove them, and lay down

next to her, weight shifting yet again.

They lay side by side, exploring each other's bodies with kisses and

licks. She savored the feel of a body no more perfect then her own,

long legs that stretched past hers at least a good foot. Laying down

he didn't seem so intimidating.

"What's so funny?' he asked, looking up from his latest foray to her

chest.

"For a moment I forgot who you were. Forgot that you're a man who's

had close to three thousand women..."

"Don't think that I think any less of this, here and now. Every time

is different. Just relax and enjoy it. I certainly am. Is it what

you expected?" he asked, rolling on top of her to press her down

under his weight again. Lightly his hand moved between her thighs,

teasing her ever so slightly. A smile came to her lips as she

wrapped his thigh in her own. His hands moved up and down her back

now, with just the right combination of pleasure to tease her and yet

not overstimulate her. Paul had done much the same, but he waited

for her to explore him as well.

"It's better then I had..." she admitted.

"You want me, Terri?" he asked, reaching for something down from his

discarded pants for a moment.

"Yes..." she nodded. "God help me, but I do..."

"You wanted the best, and you've got the best," he said.

"Now that was cheesy!" she laughed. "I was expecting that!"

"Were you expecting this?" he asked, and she gasped as she felt him

teasing at her already moist need. He pulled away, lying on his side

as he lowered his face to her. Lightly he explored her inner thigh

with his tongue. She laughed and suppressed a shriek.

"Yes... as a matter of fact! It goes without saying that it's what

you'll do! Considering whom you are..."

"But you never know..." He laughed deeply, rolling her over. Parting

her legs with his hands he slipped between them, entering her in one

expert thrust that took her breath away.

"Whoa!" she got out, as he began to rock gently at first, then

harder. "This is a surprise..."

In turn she surprised him when she struggled to lift her leg to his

shoulder. Gene nodded with satisfaction, pulling her knees to rest

on his shoulders while he continued to move. Her mind detached to

seemingly watch herself at work, and she could see the reflection of

his tensed back in her bureau, muscled rippling. She reached the

first wave with a low moan, that shuddered them both.

He lowered her leg, tugging her up onto his lap so he could peer into

her face. They were exactly the same height now, eye to eye, gazes

locked.

"Oh yeah... you are definitely surprised!" he laughed, panting as he

increased his pace. Her half shut eyes still fixed their gaze into

his, enjoying the sight of pleasure on his face. The first wave of

pleasure had abated, soon followed by the second, much more intense.

Clearly he was enjoying it as much as she was, for when she suddenly

tensed inside he let out his out moan of pleasure. Back and forth

their game continued, her sweat mingling with his as her nails dug

into his back and legs tightened around the bast of his spine. Her

cries had risen in pitch to screams now, not caring who would hear.

Gene reached close to the end of his own climax, for she saw his face

tense in sweet pain. The low growl shot through him, rumbling into

her. Gazes again locked, that moment of last intensity shared when

she reached a third and final orgasm simultaneously to his. Sheer

pleasure filled the once empty void, and a wave of incredible peace

shot over her.

"Thank you," she whispered, pressing her lips to his. He held her

close to his beating heart for a moment before withdrawing and

cuddling her close under the sheets. Sheer exhaustion claimed them

both.

"I never told you," Gene whispered as he felt sleep encroaching.

"What I came here to say. The reason why... because I lo..."

All he heard was her snore, and shook his head with an ironic smile.

It figured. Either he would never bring himself to say such words

to a woman; or else he would never get the chance.

*********************************************************************

********

Later Gene rose from the bed, seeing the glare of the red letters on

the clock that said four PM. He had slept peacefully along with her

for close to four hours. Slowly he kissed her and shook her awake.

"Mm," she whispered, turning over to face him.

"Are you coming with me?" Gene asked, rising from the bed, patting

her on the thigh.

"Coming with you? Where are we going?"

"To Los Angeles," Gene said, climbing out of bed. "If I help you

pack, you should be able to join me on the next flight out..."

"Gene... what about my apartment! I can't just up and leave!"

Gene tugged on his pants, fastening his belt as he hunted for his

wallet and watch. "I had thought that since you'd calmed down you

and I could get back there a day early... so you could tell Paul how

you feel... what's on your mind..."

"I can't go, Gene. I never want to speak to him again... and chances

are he won't admit he's wrong! I'm so tired of fighting..."

"Terri... you've got to tell him..." Gene demanded, leaning over the bed.

"This will tear you apart!"

"Did he send you here to seduce me and convince me to come, kicking

and screaming! Just to save his sorry pride?" Terri asked, sitting

bold upright.

"Paul is my friend. And I want to get this all out in the open

before it gets any worse, that's why!" Gene answered, buttoning his

shirt. "Either way I have to get on that plane. Now are you coming

with me or not?"

"Will you force me to come?" she asked, anger filling her face. "Or

did you think you could wear down my resistance by going to bed with

me..."

"Is that what you think this is, doll?" Gene asked her. He actually

looked hurt, she wondered. Why?

"You and Paul always do find ways of getting what you want, don't

you?" she shot back.

"This isn't about what Paul or I want!" Gene shook his head, holding

up a hand. "Is that what you think?"

"I don't know what to think!" Terri yelled back. "I wish I had never

met any of you! That I could just close my eyes and make it all go

away!"

"That would be the easy way out, wouldn't it? Terri... you can't

ignore this! I won't let you!"

"Who are you, Jiminy Cricket?" she asked. "This isn't a movie Gene.

It's real life! It isn't some fantasy where I can wish on some

goddamned star..."

Gene was floored at her choice of words, because he had recorded that

very song on his solo album. From her expression she had chosen that

reference specifically for the most emphasis. It only made him

admire and love her more.

"Yes, it is. So why aren't you dealing with it?" Gene shot back.

"It's my life Gene, goddamn it!"

"What do you want out of it then?" Gene shouted, anger filling him

now.

"I want you and Paul to get out of it..." she began to cry.

"Terri, this isn't necessary... look, I know you're upset..." Gene

sighed, coming over to her as she turned away. She flinched away as

he tried to embrace her, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Please Gene... just... go away..."

"If that's what you want..." Gene sighed. This was not how he

envisioned it at all. She buried her face in the pillow sobbing as

he stroked her back.

"Leave me alone..." she whimpered. Sighing, he rose from the bed and

collected the rest of his clothes. She heard his footsteps in the

hall.

"If you change your mind," he said, poking his head in the door.

"It's still not tool late. Please Terri... don't shut out someone who

can help you..."

"You have somewhere to go, Gene Simmons. Don't let me hold you up..."

she said, walking him to the door. Gene bit his lip and left, when