She’d said no at first, but he’d been so excited at the idea and so persistent, she’d relented. What was the harm when she wanted him, too. “You promise you’ll pull out in time?”
“Of course. I swear. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. I love you. You know I do. Angel, I want you so much it’s driving me insane.”
She felt at the same time powerful and afraid, but he was so beautiful and fearless. No one had ever said such incredible things to her. He seemed so sweet and eager. She had her eyes closed, but she could hear the rustling of his clothes. She made a sound at the shock of his naked body against hers. He was smooth and muscular. His skin was hot and he smelled of soap. She couldn’t remember where the jar of Vaseline came from, but there it was. And he was pressing himself and putting her hand on him and moving against her and wanting her to open up to him and then she did. She knew he’d already gone too far, but he’d pushed in. Then he was moving and didn’t seem to hear her feeble protest. He moved and he was moving and then he made a sound like he was lifting something heavy. He groaned, out of breath, and then he slumped over her, relaxed. “Oh, Lies. Oh geez. That was fantastic. That was so beautiful.”
It hadn’t even been a minute. She shifted her hips and he slipped out of her, leaving her goopy and wet.
“What’s the matter? Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not okay. You said you’d pull out!”
“I’m sorry. I meant to, but I couldn’t help myself. Baby, it just felt so good. I went crazy for a minute and the next thing I knew, it just happened.”
“Shit. What time is it? I gotta go.”
“Not yet. It’s not hardly midnight. Don’t leave me. Here, feel this.” He took her hand and pressed it against him.
She’d stayed where she was, half-underneath him, warm only in the places where his body covered hers. The rest of her was cold, her limbs pinned to the blanket by the weight of him. “I have to go in. What if they come home and I’m not there?”
“You can tell ‘em you came out for a breath of air.”
“Let go of me. Please,” she whispered, but he kissed her again, murmuring, “You’re great. You’re amazing. I love you.”
“I love you too,” she said. “Ty, I have to go in.” She twisted out of his grasp and groped along the truck bed until she found her underpants. She pulled them on and then searched for her shorts and T-shirt.
“Look, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, right?”
“Maybe.”
“All day. We’ll, spend the whole day together.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. Meet me out on Porter Road. I’ll borrow my uncle’s truck and we’ll go for a drive. Eight o’clock.”
She could tell her underpants were on wrong-side out. She lifted one hip so she could strip them off. “Damn it! Now I got stuff running down the inside of my leg. Give me a handkerchief or something so I can clean myself off.”
He handed her his T-shirt, which he’d wadded up and tossed aside. She jammed it between her legs and cleaned herself as well as she could. She eased into her underpants again and hooked herself into her bra. She pulled on her T-shirt and shorts and used her fingers to get the snarls out of her hair. Once dressed, she climbed over the tailgate.
Ty said, “Eight o’clock tomorrow morning. You’re not there, I’m knocking on your door and I don’t care who sees.”
She kissed him in haste, told him that she loved him, and then hurried toward the house and let herself in the back door. The screen whined softly. The kitchen light was off, but she could see the luminous hands on the wall clock. 1:15. Violet and Foley usually didn’t get home until after 2:00 so she was fine. Everything was okay. The same table lamp was burning in the darkened living room. The fan rotated at a steady pace, pushing hot air this way and that. Both bedrooms were dark. She paused outside Daisy’s room, listening to the child’s slow, deep, regular breathing. She was fine.
Liza crept into the bathroom. In the glow from the night-light, she pulled down her shorts and checked her underpants. The crotch was wet with semen, stained with blood. She had to talk to Violet. She knew she should have made him use a rubber, but he promised he’d pull out, and now what? Violet would know. Violet knew everything there was to know about sex. Liza returned to the living room, where she lay on the couch, hugging herself. What was done was done. He’d told her he loved her-he’d actually said that to her-and he was the one who brought up the subject of seeing her again, so it wasn’t like she was chasing him or anything like that. Still, she wished she hadn’t done it. She could feel her eyes burn as the tears spilled out. As soon as Violet came in, the two of them would talk and she’d be fine.