Offensive Behavior

“Chill, I’m old enough to be here with you.”

He punched in the number again and the shutter went up. “How old?” He couldn’t drive in if she was too young.

“I’m twenty-three.”

Green light. Five years between them. She wasn’t a kid. He drove forward and headed for his space. “What happened?”

“You should be asking what’s going to happen.”

“W-w-what is going to happen?” Apart from Zarley climbing over the console and into his lap.

“

You’re going to stop worrying you’re too virgin for me, too old for me, and turn the ignition off. Then you’re going to take my hand, get out of the car, kiss me in the elevator, feel me up outside your door, and then—”

He put his hand over her mouth, then replaced it with his lips. The taste of her, the feel of her in his arms, the idea that she was going to let him fuck her, it stopped all rational thought. This is why he’d stayed away from women, they were bad for business, they could short-circuit your brain.

He had to re-park the car so it was in the space properly, then he got the ignition off, the door open, Zarley’s hand in his. He kissed her while they waited for the elevator and when they got inside she climbed his body like he was her pole, wrapped her legs around his hips and they kissed through his head spins, forgetting to press his floor number, and the twelve-story ride to the end of his self-imposed abstinence.

This is really happening.

The need of it sat in his chest like lung disease, rippled through his body like a power overload. His awareness had narrowed to the flickering tease of her hands and bright sharp sounds she made as they kissed. The end of days was on her tongue and salvation was between her legs and he didn’t know if he was worthy.

He got them out of the elevator and into the apartment without stopping to put her down. She didn’t need him to hold her in any case, his gymnast, his dancer, the girl who could fly and was teaching him to soar with every sucking kiss and flex of her pelvis.

Yanking on his hair slowed him up. “Take a breath, Back Booth, you’re going to blow a fuse.”

“Ow. What?” No way. No stopping. No more waiting. She laughed and put her feet down, lowering her big canvas bag off her shoulder. They were in his living room. There wasn’t enough air in here.

She stepped away, made gentling motions with her hands. “You don’t want it to be this quick.”

“Fuck, yeah I do.” He’d left the front door open. Maybe he was freaking her out. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. But I was going home from work. I didn’t take a shower. I want to.”

He stalked across the room and closed the door. “Ah, okay. It’s, um, through, er.”

She held her hand out. “I know where your bathroom is. I didn’t say I wanted to shower alone.”

“Jesus Christ. That’s some kind of advanced ninja sex. Couldn’t you ease me into this?”

She laughed. “You’re doing fine.” She took his hand. “If you hadn’t told me I wouldn’t have known.”

That couldn’t possibly be true. No one did anything useful the first time around. “I know how it’s all supposed to work. Porn channel. But the real thing, you, it’s nothing like I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“To have some fucking control for a start. I can’t, not, it’s. God, what you’re doing to me.”

“So if I did—” She smacked her lips together, rolled them.

“Then I’m going to come in my underwear.”

“You’re going to come in the shower in my hand or my mouth and then it’s going to be easier to slow down.”

He was only capable of grunting and letting her lead him to the bedroom, sit him on the bed. His brain was a mere receptacle echoing the torturous pains in his body.

“I want five minutes in the shower to myself and then you come join me, okay? Do you want to undress me?”