“And we could watch,” Pablo suggested.
“You’ve got a real Peeping Tom fetish, Pablo,” Helen declared. “Why don’t you get a life?”
“What ees a fat-dish?” Pablo asked Rafe.
Rafe laughed.
Helen could feel it all the way down to his buns, which moved against hers. Aaaarrgh!
“The next man Elena corkscrews weel be me,” Ignacio asserted.
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll tell God what you’re doing to my wife?” Rafe tossed out to Ignacio. “After the hanging, I’ll be going through those pearly gates. Then, I’ll have easy access to the Lord’s ear.”
“Hah! You weel, no doubt, be in hell.” But Ignacio worried the edge of his big mustache between a thumb and forefinger. “Besides, I do not believe you are married.”
Disregarding Ignacio’s scoffing, Rafe went on with obvious relish, “I hear God has a special place in hell for adulterers. He gives Satan free rein to torture men who bang other men’s wives. Hot irons. Eye pincers. Snakes.”
Ignacio gasped at the word “snakes.”
“Oh, yeah, snakes,” Rafe said, picking up on Ignacio’s fear of reptiles. “I hear St. Patrick sent all those leftover snakes from Ireland down there just so Lucifer could make up a pit for adulterers to sleep in. Yep, that’s what my priest always said, ‘Adulterers are snakes who should sleep with snakes for all eternity.’ Hmmm. What’ll He think of a man who corkscrews another man’s wife? Think that counts as adultery?”
“She won’t be your wife then. You weel be dead,” Ignacio argued, but there was a slight note of doubt in his voice.
“Would you all stop talking about me like a piece of meat? I’m not making love with anyone tonight, and that’s that.”
Eventually, the three shuffled off, congratulating themselves on their prowess, and Helen and Rafe tried to find a comfortable position.
Unable to sleep, Helen finally said, “Rafe? Are you awake?”
“Yeah.”
“Why do you keep goading me? It’s really mean of you.”
“Me? I just kept those guys from tying us together, naked, face to face. How is that mean?”
“It’s the way you do it. There’s always a sexual message in every reference you make to me.”
“Well, it’s like this, Prissy. A lot of sexual bells go off in my body every time I look at you.”
“See. You’re always teasing me.”
“Who’s teasing? Hey, even with only our backsides touching, I gotta tell you, my chimes are ringing.”
“Oh, give me a break! I think you just get a kick out of being politically incorrect.”
“Maybe. I’m a product of my environment, you’re a product of yours. I don’t know why you think it’s mean of me, though. Don’t you like knowing you’re attractive to men… to me?”
Actually, she was liking it way too much. Despite the inappropriateness of some of his remarks. Despite his pushing the envelope of suggestiveness. But she’d never tell him that. “Ours is a professional relationship. There should be respect and distance and — ”
“Distance? Hell, I can feel the seam of your panties with my butt. And you’re talking distance?”
“It’s impossible to talk to you. Let’s change the subject.”
He laughed. “To what?”
“Well, tell me what you’ve been doing all these years. You obviously went to law school. Where?”
“UCLA.”
“And after that?”
“Public defenders’ office for two years.”
“Really?” She wasn’t sure why that surprised her. Yes, she was. “You don’t make much money there.”
“Right. That’s why I left.”
A sudden thought occurred to her. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t asked before. “Are you married?”
He gave a short laugh. “No.”
An unexplainable rush of pleasure washed over her. “Ever?”
“Never.”
“Why?”
She felt his shoulders shrug. “I couldn’t afford marriage.”
“Oh.” All kinds of possibilities arose in her mind. “Does that mean there was someone you would have liked to marry?”
He didn’t answer right away. Eventually, he admitted, “There was a girl once, a long time ago, but it never would have worked.”
She wanted to know more. Was it a Mexican girl? Someone from his old neighborhood, or perhaps a fellow law student? And had he loved her? More important, did he still? She shouldn’t care. She really shouldn’t. But she did.