“Maybe I’ve got something to do after work.”
“Like what?”
I smiled at her. “Checking my genealogy tables.”
She got the coffee pot and filled my cup.
“You get off soon?” I asked.
She raised her eyebrows at me, but there was no surprise in her voice. “My relief gets here at six-thirty.”
“I get off at six,” I said.
“That’d be great.”
I’d like to say that when I changed my clothes back at the station and threw on a little cologne, I thought long and hard about what I was about to do. I’d like to say that, because I’d feel better about things now if it were true. But it wasn’t. All I really thought about was getting laid.
She waited near the front door of the diner, her jacket folded over her arm, and she slid into passenger seat of my car as if it were a well-rehearsed move.
“Good morning,” I said, and instantly felt stupid for saying it.
She grinned at me, though. “Good to be off work anyway,” she said.
I pulled out of the parking lot with no idea where I was going. She took care of that. “Turn right on Birch.”
I turned right. We drove in silence, with the exception of her giving me simple directions. Before long, we pulled into the parking lot of the Greyhouse Apartments at the foot of the Five Mile Hill.
“My spot’s right there,” she said, pointing to number fourteen.
“Where’s your car?”
“It broke down.”
“Did you take it to the shop?” I pulled in and parked.
She nodded her head. “It’s still there. Something about the transmission.”
I didn’t know much about cars, but I knew transmissions cost a lot to fix.
“It’s all right, though,” she said. “I take the bus.”
I turned off the engine and got out of the car. I considered going around and opening the door for her, but she got out on her own before I’d even shut my own door. She met me at the rear of the car.
I hesitated, but she flashed me a smile and motioned with her head. We crossed the parking lot, went up the stairs and into her small apartment.
It was very clean. The only dish in the sink was a single coffee mug. The place had a hint of orange in the air.
“Nice,” I muttered, more to myself than her.
“Thanks,” she said, draping her jacket over the high-backed chair at the breakfast bar. Then she turned and walked toward me. The glint in her eye was no longer mysterious, just hungry.
She kissed me and all pretenses, if there had ever been any, fell away.
I returned her kiss and pressed my body up against hers. Our breaths came quick and urgent. Our hands explored with the rough passion of a first time, each groping touch possessive and selfish. Her tongue was fiery and wet and it darted between my open lips, raking the roof of my mouth.
She moaned as I broke away from her mouth and kissed her neck. Her moans were soft at first, then louder. The sound of her voice was a ragged purr.
My brain had checked out and my body was on fire. We clawed at each other’s clothing until we were both naked. We staggered toward her bedroom, kissing and groping, a four-legged awkward beast. Two steps into the living room, still half a dozen away from the bedroom door, she stopped and pulled me to the floor. Her thighs found my hips and I entered her with a single deep stroke. She moaned deep in her throat.
Steady, I said to myself, but it was no good. She pulled me deeper into her with arms and ankles, then she kissed me and her hard breasts pressed against my chest and it only took a minute of that breathless, wet passion before I let go. Molten fury poured out of me and into her and I watched her eyes widen and then close.
We lay on the living room carpet, still in each other’s grasp. Her hands stroked my back lightly and I kissed her neck and face, finally finding her lips again. Her lips parted and drew me in for long, deep kisses. My hardness refused to go away. The slow kisses became harder and faster until she rolled over on top of me and we were thrusting and grinding again.
The second time lasted much longer and ended much quieter than the first. I felt her come first, her whole body tightening around me. After that, she sat up and leaned back until I finished. Then she smiled at me, a sweaty, satisfied smile and brought her face next to mine. She gave me an almost chaste kiss on the corner of my mouth and then nestled down onto my chest.
We fell asleep.
When I woke up, it was ten in the morning. I heard her shower running. I sat up and considered joining her.
My next thought was that I should just leave, make it a one-time thing. Avoid complications.
In the end, I settled for leaving her a note.
Lauren, I wrote on a small notepad with Minnie Mouse in the left hand corner smiling at me and holding a huge pencil. You were wonderful. C.
Then I left.
I started seeing her pretty regularly after that. Seeing her. What a quaint euphemism that is. What I should say, to be honest and true, is that I kept fucking her after that, and on a pretty regular basis.
Things developed into a nice little routine. I saw her at the restaurant and she served me coffee and English muffins. If she asked me for a ride home, I knew that meant we were on. I’d pick her up after work outside the restaurant and drive her to her place. We’d have sex. Most of the time, I left a short while later. Once in a while, I dozed with her, lying in her bed covered with sweat and sheets. But I made sure to never stay the whole day.
She asked me about it once. I sat up in her bed and swung my legs over the side when she reached out and took my wrist.
“Stay?” she whispered.
I smiled at her and leaned down to kiss her temple. “Gotta go,” I whispered back.
“Why?”
I didn’t answer her, but I knew the reason.
I don’t want to give you the wrong idea about what we are.
I kissed her temple again and stood up, looking for my clothes. Her hand was still holding my wrist. She let go and reached for my manhood, first cupping, then grabbing gently and stroking.
“Stay,” she whispered again.
I stayed and fucked her again, but I still left before noon.
I kept quiet about our thing, but Gio figured it out pretty quickly. At least he waited until a morning when we were alone to ask me, “How long you been fucking her?”
I watched her walk away, admiring the taper of her waist and curve of her ass. “What makes you say-”
“Cut the crap, Sully,” he said. “I’m not stupid and besides, you’re about as hard to read as Green Eggs amp; Ham.”
“Rules you out, then, doesn’t it?”
“How long?”
I shrugged. “A little while.”
He shook his head at me. “Don’t get serious with her.”
“I’m not.”
“I mean it.”
“So do I.”
He stared at me, disbelief etched on his face.
I raised my hands up in surrender. “Really, I’m not. It’s just sex, all right?”
Gio nodded as if that meant everything was all right in the world. “Fine. But be smart. Use protection.”
“Okay, Dad.”
“I’m serious.”
“She’s on the pill.”
Gio pulled his head and shoulders back and gave me a look bordering on contempt. “No kidding she’s on the pill. I’m not telling you so she doesn’t get pregnant.”
“Then what-”
“How many people you figure you’re fucking every time you bang her?” he asked.
“Huh?”
He rolled his eyes at me. “You heard me. How many?”
A flicker of anger burned in me. “She’s clean,” I grunted and took a drink of coffee.
He nodded. “I’m sure she bathes regularly and wears pretty perfume. I’m sure she smells real nice down there. But how many people do you figure you’re fucking every time you get inside that?”
I shrugged. “Maybe we’re exclusive.”