PIERCING EYES (a compellingly romantic, suspenseful, poignant novel) comprises 35 chapters, a preface, preamble, prologue, and an epilogue. Copyright 2009 by MK Lukman. All Rights Reserved! Hardcover-edition:
Disclaimer:
"This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and/or territories (mentioned herein) are products of the author's imagination;
Text:
Jason could vividly see Stephanie strolling towards their Chatham canopied, king-sized bed-set—from their modest, Jacuzzi-appointed masterbath-room—
The plunging-neckline of her chemise—partly bathed in the warm glow of a light-to-moderate silhouette, seeping through the partially opened venetian-blinds of their adjoining sitting-room;
His memory of such an occasion—and, indeed, there were others, much like it!—was just as fresh as if it were yesterday. Still, Stephanie had to take him back to such moments in time. Arguably, she knew him better than he knew himself. And, precisely, she knew what worked, and what did not!
After a measure of reluctance, he answered his vibrating mobile-phone. It was Stephanie—he'd always known that it was her—on the other end; no question about it!
“Hello!” Jason said cheerfully; his tone, sounding contrived.
“This is Stephanie, hun!” She squawked; her voice—breaking up—laced with static.
“Babes; uh kin hardly hear you! What…?” He said.
Jason clicked off, and redialled her number—a minute or two, later—hoping to get a much clearer reception. In the process, he mused: 'couldn’t have bin my Blackberry—the Bentley of all cell-phones!
“Where are you?” Stephanie asked, concerned.
“Ahhh … in hell!” He said with a slight chuckle.
“You’re in—what?” She incredulously asked, after a moment of rethinking. “Look, I’m just not in the mood right now for—” she further admonished.
Stephanie hissed, wondering whether Jason’s remark was 'off the wall'. He'd always had an eccentrically appealing sort of humour; though not particularly dry! Yet, his tone of voice sounded rather serious. She could hardly shake the disturbingly haunting feeling that something was amiss. Perhaps, it was her sagacity—or that so-called 'woman’s intuition'—which enabled her to uncannily penetrate his psyche; secrets, even!
“Darlin’, I’ve bin tryin’ to reach yuh for the longest while, now!” Stephanie proclaimed as her angst and jealously became increasingly evident. “Where the hell are you? What’s goin’ on, “Jase”? You wanna tell me?”
Stephanie's voice—generally mild, sweet, and sexy; soothing, even!—began to take on a motherly, yet threatening, tone; barely audible against the backdrop of loud automobile and pedestrian traffic. Jason could no more filter it out than pretend that he was not able to hear her voice. To do the latter—was not only out of character for him, but— would certainly invite her wrath! Yet, she was not ubiquitously stifling!
“Nothing’s goin’ on, “Steph”! He assured. “Not in the sense that you’re implying.”
“Oh? I’m implying!” She snapped—with a squint, affecting one eye; and a hint of suspicion in her voice. “In what other sense, then, are you really implying that something may have happened?” Stephanie further countered with quick-wittedness.
And, in an effort to avoid her 'precative spiel', Jason had no other alternative but to 'come correct'; in spite of the emotionally subtle games that they'd, each, occasionally played on the other.
“Damn, girl! Like I’ve always said: ‘yuh should've bin an attorney’.”
“Yeah? Huh. Yuh know … I just might after, all!” Stephanie replied.
It was a typical intercourse.
“We still have to talk, Jason.” Stephanie said bluntly.
“Miss yuh terribly, sweetheart!” He assured.
“How badly do you …?” She asked; her voice mellow and enticing.
“Very!” Jason replied.
“What? Can’t hear you, hun!” She said; sounding more and more like the naughty femme fatale she sometimes professed.
“VERY BADLY, pumpkin! So badly … hmmm … ssssh … uh kin taste it!”
“Taste, what?” Stephanie teased.
“You’re bad; v-e-r-y bad!” He said, chuckling somewhat.
“Yeah? Hmmm. N-a-s-t-y!” She retorted; sweepingly licking her top lip—with the tip of her tongue—whilst stroking a few, curly locks of her thick, black hair as she lay across her Chatham.
“Ssssh … oh, Gawwwd!” Stephanie moaned. “Yuh got me soooo excited, and all ….”
He could intuitively tell—from the tone of her voice, and something else, too!—that she was aroused: moist, blushing, pouting, and … well ….
'Am I bad or what'? He mused; the look on his face, confirming the pleasure that he felt.
“Yeah? Well … when are you gonna cum, and look at muh cat?” Her soft voice peaked with seduction; but nowhere near the femme fatale that she could become.
Her voice, like his thoughts, began to get a little penetrating. He curiously wondered whether she was touching herself … in the 'privvissy' of her bedroom: the place where they'd mostly done that; and a lot more!
“Hmmm … what cat?” Jason feigned.
“Yuh mean yuh forgot … already?” Stephanie replied; her tone, laced with mock disbelief.
She could detect a bit of a chuckle in his voice; yet it seemed sensual.
“Don’t play yuh-self, hun! You know whattuh mean: my PUSSYCAT!” She playfully roared. “The one you like to look at, and play wit'; remember?”
At that juncture, Jason’s journey was temporarily interrupted by a generous offer of a ride, from a friend, in a brand new QX-56. His phone-sex-conversation with Stephanie, already heightened by surges of testosterone, was still in play as he embarked the luxuriously large SUV near Fourth Avenue in Brooklyn; a stone’s throw from Park Slope: one of the borough’s exclusive neighbourhoods.
The only available seat was next to the right, rear door; providing a panoramically unobstructed view. How auspicious! He'd rather sit there, given the potentially sensitive nature of their conversation, than to have sat betwixt two middle-aged-
“Like I wuz sayin’ … when are yuh gonna cum and …?” Stephanie insisted.
“Oh, yes! Ahhh … hmmm … I’m cuming ….” Jason assured softly via his Blackberry; the palm of his left hand, partly dampening the amplitude of his baritone-like voice.
“When?” She asked; her tone marked with quizzicality.
“Soon, pumpkin; very soon!” He whispered; his eyes, peering through the window where he sat; yet, trying—as hard as he could—to concentrate on what Stephanie was saying.
“Yuh betta!" She urged.
