Push

by Claire Wallis

  “No need to be sorry,” I say with a look of confusion. “Why would you be sorry? I like what you do to me. I like it when you make me feel like that.” He is looking at me as if he doesn’t believe it. “David, pretty much everything you do makes me feel like that.”

  “Yeah?” he asks.

  “Yeah,” I say, walking over to him and taking a hold of his waist. “And it’s a good thing. Really.” Vulnerable David is here, and I’m not sure how to feel about him.

  I decide to change the subject. “I want to eat something. I’m starving. Wanna spend some of that dough you got on a pizza for your girl?”

  “Of course,” he says, planting a quick, chaste kiss on my mouth and pulling his phone from his back pocket.

  * * *

  After the pizza delivery guy comes, we sit at the table and eat. I tell David about the articles I found online regarding the case against TruTimber Imports and Michael’s death, sharing with him all the details discussed in the stories. But he seems the most surprised when I tell him about my phone call with Ricky. He can’t believe I actually called him. He seems almost angry about it, and he chides me for making the call when he wasn’t around. Vulnerable David has vanished and protective David is back. I try my best to assure him that the conversation was brief and that Ricky was nothing more than his usual asshole self.

  David surprises me by telling me that he will drive me the six hours to go to the funeral on Friday if I want. Fuck that. I tell him the same thing I told Ricky: “There is no fucking way that’s happening.” He chuckles and tells me he only brought it up because he thought that going might provide me with some closure.

  “The kind of closure that comes from a funeral is for pathetic fools,” I say sharply. His face immediately stills—I can’t believe how angry the words sound coming out of my mouth. Especially since what happened at my mother’s funeral was the one of the brightest moments of my adult life. “Just knowing that the motherfucker is dead is closure enough for me.”

  “Okay,” he says, chastised. “I get it. I won’t mention it again.” He stands, carrying the plates into the kitchen and tossing the pizza box into the trash can on his way back out. I regret pouncing on him, and I wish I could take it back. I am deciding how to apologize when he comes back to the table and stands behind me. His fingers work their way down to the pendant suspended between my breasts. As he touches the raven, his other hand sweeps my hair to the side, and he lowers his face to the back of my neck. His mouth is warm as his lips and tongue slide across the skin at my nape. I feel a shiver move across my body.

  “I know you’re only trying to help.” I say in apology. “I’m just not used to being helped, that’s all. I don’t know how to behave.”

  “I’ll tell you how to behave,” he says softly, his lips still against my neck and his voice full of innuendo.

  I smile. “Only if I get an indescribable benefit in return,” I say.

  “Done.”

  I try to keep my balance as he pulls my chair back, away from the table. He walks around to the front and faces me. His hands rest on my shoulders as he sits down, straddling my lap. I smile playfully at him and grunt as if he is too heavy.

  He lifts his shirt up over his head, dropping it on to the floor, and says, “I’m not that heavy, am I?”

  I shake my head, wrap my arms around his waist and thread my fingers together at the base of his spine. He clasps my jaw and kisses me. As our mouths meet, I feel myself slip into him. It’s like my whole body is dissolving into his. Like we are one person, alone and charged with electricity.

  There is a bundle of something caught up in my chest, making it hard for me to breathe. Maybe it’s anticipation. Maybe it’s need. Or lust. Whatever it is, I don’t want to snuff it out. I don’t want it to end. It is making me feel heady. I wonder if it is love. Or hope. And I wonder if David knows it’s there. If he feels it, too.

  I untangle my fingers and slide them into the waistband of his jeans, moving around the front to open his button and zipper. And then I am touching him, rubbing my hands up and down over him, feeling his need. When I tighten my grip, he takes his mouth off mine and looks at me, watching my face as I touch him, pushing his hips upwards into my fist. I listen to him breathe, and he is calm and quiet. Like he was this morning, when he was sleeping. I want to hear his breath stutter with need, and so I let him go and push him off my lap. I tug his jeans down over his hips, and when he kicks them off, I pull him back toward me. I drop off the chair and on to my knees. I kiss his stomach and his hips, letting my tongue skim across his skin. I lick and suck him, sending him to the back of my throat over and over again. My hands move slowly from the back of his knees up to his behind, and I push his hips forward. I push him into my mouth, deeper and faster until I hear his breath skitter. He tells me to stop before he comes, and then he backs away from me, dropping out of my mouth and looking down at me.

  “Get up,” he says. The sound of his voice unfolds me, pries my insides open. I might as well raise the white fucking flag right now. It isn’t even a contest. I am completely helpless.

  When I am standing, he slides the zipper of my dress down to where it ends. He lifts it up over my head. I slide my panties down off my legs and David takes my hand. He walks me over to the sofa and tells me to sit down in the middle of it. My insides melt into goo.

  David tugs my hips forward until my ass is hanging just on the edge of the sofa. Now it is him kneeling in front of me. He spreads my legs, putting one foot on each arm of the sofa. I lean back against the sofa pillows, feeling both exposed and electrified. His arms spread out wide, and he trails his hands slowly from my ankles inwards, stroking and smoothing me, spilling desire across my skin. When they reach my center, his fingers taunt me again with their small circles. Not for long, though, because a moment later, his hips move forward and he is inside me, rocking back and forth on his knees. Pressing into me. He grips the insides of my thighs, holding my legs open. His skin smacks against mine each time we meet, and every time I hear it, the bundle in my chest tightens and chokes me a little more. He is nearly breathless now, and I feel my heart hammering inside of me. He lets go of my legs, and sinks his thumb into my mouth. When it is wet, he uses it to taunt me with more small, slick circles, and his hips keep reeling into me until my tangled chest is rising and falling like a carnival ride.

  When I come, I shout out his name. It sounds strangled and weighted, the way I feel. The way that David makes me feel. I am sucking the air into my lungs like a junkie sucks his pipe. There are chemicals rushing through me, filling my lungs and blood with release. I can’t catch my breath. But David wastes no time. He pulls out of me just long enough to pull me up and turn me around, propping one of my knees up on to the sofa. My other foot is on the floor, and my hands are on the back of the sofa as he enters me again, this time from behind. My arms are stiff, and I shift all my weight back on to David as he grips my hips and pulls me against him. He sinks himself into me again and again, and then my breath leaves me completely, rushing out of my chest, this time whispering his name instead of shouting it. I close my eyes and listen to him. I don’t inhale again until I hear his body let go. I don’t breathe until he says my name and sucks a chain of air into his own heaving lungs.

  But even after, when he is lying against my back on the sofa and we are both breathing our own breaths, I can feel the bundle of something still caught up in my chest. I don’t think it is going away.

  David’s body is cool against my warm skin. I turn over and burrow against him, wrapping my body around his chest and legs. The sofa is barely wide enough for both of us, and David’s heels are up on the armrest.

  “Let’s do something crazy on Friday,” I say out of the blue. I feel his muscles tighten, and I know that he is looking down at the top of my head waiting for me to look up at him. “I know it sounds kind of heartless, but I want to observe Michael’s death by doing something off the wall. Something that I’ve never done before.”


  I can tell David is a bit bewildered. He is silent for a few moments before he asks, “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll think of something. Or you will. I’ll stay at the office an hour later tomorrow and work through lunch so I can cut out of there a few hours early on Friday,” I say with souped-up enthusiasm. I love the idea of celebrating Michael’s death. Of celebrating my freedom.

  “I’m game,” he says.

  “I’ll try to come up with some options, and you do the same,” I say as I twist my face to look up at him. “We can decide tomorrow night.”

  “Atta girl,” he says with a grin. “I think we can come up with something pretty excellent.” His voice is thick with innuendo. Again.

  It makes me smile. “I’m not talking about fuck-buddy stuff, though.”

  “Damn,” he says. “But we can always fall back on that if we can’t come up with anything else.”

  “Very funny,” I say, laying my head back down on his chest and closing my eyes. My mind is swirling with options. I don’t know the city that well, but David does. I know he will come up with the perfect thing.

  I am nearly asleep when there is a knock at the door.

  “Who the fuck is that?” I say, opening my eyes. David shrugs his shoulders and grins at me.

  “How the hell should I know? It’s your apartment,” he says lightly.

  We hear a voice on the other side of the door. “David, it’s Brad. Come on.”

  “Go the fuck away,” David shouts. His voice is loud but calm.

  “No. Take your cock out of her fucking pussy and get out here,” Brad yells back. That was clearly not the right thing for Brad to say, because in an instant, David is off the sofa and stomping toward the door. I pop my head up over the back of the sofa and see David, naked as a jaybird, unlocking and opening the door. He is pissed as hell, and as the door opens, I scramble to block Brad’s view of my own naked body with the sofa cushions.

  “Jesus, David. Put some damn pants on,” Brad says, half covering his eyes in jest. Then he peeks over David’s shoulder at me. “Hi, Emma. What’s up?” I’m not sure what to do, so I give a small, awkward wave. Brad’s eyes return to David’s as he straightens his body. “Shit. She is fucking hot, David,” Brad says in a near whisper. I am positive that David is going to punch his fucking lights out again, and I am scrambling to grab my dress from the floor without Brad catching sight of me.

  “Shut it, Brad,” David says with a heavy dose of restraint. “Don’t.” Brad raises his hands in capitulation just as I nab my dress and try my best to drop it down over my head while keeping covered with the sofa cushion. I must look ridiculous.

  “We need to talk. Seriously,” Brad says. “Get dressed and come upstairs. We can figure everything out. Just, come on.”

  David sighs. “I’ll be there in five minutes,” he says, his voice quieter now. Almost resigned. He closes the door on Brad and turns back towards me.

  “I’m sorry, Emma. I have to go. I have to go talk to those guys. We’ve got some shit to figure out, and I just need it to be done.”

  “Okay,” I say. “It’s not a problem, I’m tired anyway.” I stand up off the sofa and run my hands along the front of my dress. David walks back to me, grabbing his jeans and shirt on the way. I look up at him, and his eyes look tired. Not sleepy, but tired. Weary even. Whatever he and Brad have to talk about is obviously not something he is looking forward to.

  “Is everything all right?” I ask.

  “Yeah. It’s all right. I would just rather stay here with you, that’s all.” But I know that that isn’t all. I know there is more to it than that.

  “Okay, well, you know where I am if you need me,” I say, picking up my panties and sliding them up my legs. David gives me a small smile as he finishes dressing, then he pecks me on the cheek, picks up the metal box, and walks out the door.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  David picked me up when I left work yesterday evening at seven. He took me out for a beer and some pub grub so we could talk about today’s little adventure. I suggested we go rock climbing or horseback riding or zip-lining, but he said that he had something all figured out and that he wanted it to be a surprise. When I asked him how he knows it’s something I’ve never done before, he told me that I needed to trust him and promised that it will definitely be a new experience for me. And so today, I am nearly jumping out of my skin. I’ve managed to talk my supervisor into letting me leave a few hours early, and I’m more excited than I’ve been in a very long time. I spend most of the day staring at the clock, willing it to move faster. When Matt asks me why I seem so out of sorts, I tell him that I got permission to cut out early, and David and I are spending the afternoon doing something crazy.

  “What are you guys going to do?” he asks with more apprehension than curiosity.

  “I’m not really sure,” I tell him. “I let David make all the plans, so the only thing I know is that it’s something I’ve never done before.”

  “You let David make all the plans? Man, I hope you make it out alive,” he says without a trace of humor in his voice.

  “Aww, come on. What kind of crazy do you think he’s gonna get me into?” It reminds me that Matt knows way more about David than I do. Should I even be having this conversation?

  “I’m just saying, don’t be surprised if you end up on the back of a motorcycle, or rolling a joint in an airplane at ten thousand feet, or standing at a blackjack table in Vegas.” Oh. I hadn’t even thought of that kind of crazy as being an option.

  “I heard that that’s the type of stuff David was doing before I showed up. So it’s true, huh?” I ask nervously.

  “Kind of, yeah,” Matt says. He purses his lips and scrunches his face up in a wince. As if he thinks he might be saying too much.

  “I know about what happened with Lucia,” I say. “His friend Saz told me about her and about how David went kind of ape shit afterwards.”

  “Ape shit?” Matt says with a smile. “Yeah, I guess that’s about right. He was not acting like himself, that’s for sure. But then you came along and it mostly stopped.” Mostly. He said mostly.

  “Oh. When I told him I wanted to do something crazy today, I wasn’t counting on ape shit crazy. Now I’m all freaked out,” I tell him. And I am.

  “Emma, you already know he’s got it bad for you. And, despite his brief history of ape shit, he’s a good guy. I don’t think he’s going to put your life at risk or anything. I just think you may be in for more than you bargained for.”

  “I’ve been in for more than I bargained for ever since I met the man, so, really, I shouldn’t be surprised by all this,” I say quietly. Part of me wants Matt to tell me more about David’s ape shit phase, but the rest of me is screaming for him to shut up.

  He must hear my silent screams because he shrugs his shoulders and turns back to the drawing table.

  * * *

  I walk out of the office at precisely two to find David waiting by his double-parked car. He’s leaning against the hood with his arms crossed against his chest and his legs crossed at the ankles. He isn’t dressed for ape shit crazy. He is dressed like he always is. Jeans, a plaid button-down and a pair of chucks. I changed my own clothes in the ladies room before I came down. He told me to wear something casual, and actually, my outfit looks much like his—except I’m wearing a green hoodie instead of a button-down.

  Even though David looks as sexy and amazing as ever, I feel nervous when I look at him. I wish I hadn’t talked to Matt about our adventure. I wish I wasn’t second-guessing David. I really do not want to end up in a jail cell or an airplane or in any of the other places that Matt mentioned. I hope David’s ape shit phase is over.

  “Hey,” he says, stepping away from the car and wrapping his arms around me. “You look a little freaked out. Is everything all right?” Jesus. Really? Is my nervousness that fucking obvious? Now I’m embarrassed. I feel my skin starting to color. He lets me go and holds me at arm’s length, keep
ing his hands on my shoulders and leaning his head into my face so that he can look straight into my eyes. Jesus H. Christ. He is burning a hole right through me.

  “Everything’s fine,” I say. “I’m just excited, that’s all.”

  “Really?” he says. “Emma, I’m not a fucking idiot. And you do not look excited. I can see that something is up. What is it? What’s wrong?”

  I crease my brow with trepidation. “You aren’t going to go ape shit crazy with me this afternoon, are you? I mean, we aren’t going to do something that could land me in a coffin or anything, right?” His face lightens immediately, and he lets a sharp exhale escape from his nose, as if he is laughing at me from the inside.

  “Seriously? Did you just seriously ask me that? Do you think that I would put you in that kind of danger? Do you think that’s the kind of person I am?”

  “Well, no, not really. But then I was talking to Matt today, and it just made me think that maybe I’ve missed something and that maybe you really are that kind of person.”

  “Whoa,” he says, holding the palm of his hand flat out in front of me. “Hold on. What exactly did Matt tell you?”

  “He told me the same thing Saz did,” I say, sounding and feeling much like a rebuked toddler. “That you went a little ape shit when things ended with Lucia, and now I’m having a hard time reconciling the fact that this David is the same person as that one. That’s all.” I am shaking a little because I am afraid that I have somehow offended him. That I have made him feel judged. “I like this David. And I don’t want you to go ape shit again.”

  David wraps his arms around me and inhales long and deep. I feel his chest puff out, and his exhale brush against my scalp. “I am not going to go ape shit, Emma. I’m done needing to do all that. I have you.”

  “Good,” I say, his words echoing in my ears. Now that my nervousness is squelched, the excitement is returning. “So, what are we doing, then?”

  “You’ll see,” he says, letting me go and opening my car door.