Bolo

by Mariska Hutchence

  I can be there in 20.

  See you there. I shoot back, grabbing my purse. It’ll only take me ten. It’s almost three in the morning, but I feel wired and my body certainly acts like its amped up on adrenalin. I think I locked the door, but I don’t go back to check. It’s a miracle that I don’t wreck the car on the way to the diner. He surprised me earlier tonight and I’m not about to let that happen again. Big girl panties, Suzanne.

  As I open the door and step out of the car, I see the dome light come on in the black Charger about five spaces down. I recognize it finally, having only seen it the once that morning on the street outside of my office. He’s sitting there in the half-light and I feel like I want to pinch myself. This can’t really be happening, can it? Avery is absolutely gorgeous. This is the kind of guy I expect my roommate would be more likely to end up with than me. I realize I’m thinking things like ‘end up with’ and I keep my thoughts under control as I cross the short distance to his car. I hear the passenger door unlock, my eyes lighting on what appears to be the only adornment on the car; a sticker with a pair of wings and a parachute and the first thing I think of is military. All thoughts of the diner and food blow away.

  The leather seat embraces me as I slide in and here I am, sitting next to him, seeing his face light up with a soft smile. Impulsively, I lean over and kiss him.

  “I’m sorry, Avery.” I mean it. The intervening hours put me in his shoes, letting me feel the worry of what he might have done wrong and I want to take that away from him.

  “Do you want to eat?” He asks, seemingly dismissing my apology, his eyes flicking towards the fluorescent glow streaming from the line of windows. Normally I go with the flow, this time something inside of me steps out from the shadow where it normally hides.

  “No.” It comes out a lot more submissive and hesitant than I want it to, but somehow I can’t seem to help it.

  Avery doesn’t answer, he just shifts the Charger into reverse and pulls out of the lot. It’s dark and quiet, minus the hum of the engine. It certainly doesn’t match the exterior.

  “Would you like to go anywhere in particular?”

  I look at the streetlights, then turn to face him just as he glances over at me. “Take me anywhere you’d like.” I say. “Absolutely anywhere.” I roll down the window, feeling the breeze hit my face and play with my hair.

  There’s little small talk as we drive and I fidget nervously with my hands in my lap. Will this ever become comfortable? The excitement of the whole thing almost overwhelms me. We pull into a very nice looking complex of townhomes and he winds around, eventually pulling into a gated drive.

  “Your place?” I finally say. Even in the dark light, I can see him blush. It’s actually pretty cute how odd it looks on that handsome face. “It’s okay. I did say anywhere.” I laugh and it brings the smile back to his face. Jeez, who’s reassuring who around here?

  “I can make you something to eat. I’m not good for much else.” He says as we both step out of the car, my body reminding me of how wrong his statement is.

  “You cook, too?” I say, walking beside his towering form until he unlocks the front door.

  “I live alone, so there’s not really any other option.” He says. I consider asking him about eating out, but another look at that body as I pass him tells me that it’s probably not an option he chooses as much as I do. I feel a little bit self-conscious.

  “Wow, this is a lot nicer than my place.” I say, trying to carry the conversation as he flips on the lights and locks the door with an inordinate number of deadbolts for the neighborhood. Mentioning my place makes it click in my head that he shouldn’t have had my address to deliver the flowers. The Internet is full of that stuff; it’s a reassuring enough thought to put it to the back of my mind where I want it.

  Avery turns to face me and he’s lit from behind by the far table lamp, casting a glow about his whole presence. “It’s just a rental. I’m not full time in the city. What sounds good?”

  I know it’s not what he’s asking, but I step forward and come up to my toes. God damn, he’s tall. I’m certainly hoping that he is able to take the hint, because there’s no way in hell I’m getting up there without a ladder.

  He gets it, wrapping his arms around my waist as he hunkers down, his lips meeting mine with all the passion I felt from him at Raza. I hadn’t noticed it in the club but he smells…well, he smells like a man, and I mean that in a good way. The hands around my waist dip down to my ass, and I’m expecting a squeeze and welcome it. Anything you want, buddy, I think to myself. It’s not what I get. He lifts me up physically, his lips still locked on mine and stands to his full height. I can feel one of my heels drop to the floor with a thump.

  The kiss breaks and he pulls back a little, his eyes drawn to mine, his face hard to read, but almost questioning, an uneasiness that he seems to be hoping I will dispel.

  I can’t seem to do anything but whisper. “Yes.”

  Like a box checked on a form, his lips meet mine again and I feel the two of us moving, me wrapping my legs around him as best as I can. He climbs the stairs as if he were alone, keeping me centered. I’ve never felt quite so safe. I’m not the smallest girl in the world and it brings back some of that self-doubt, the insecurities I’ve felt for most of my life. They’ve ruined relationships before, keeping me from being truly open, and at times, truly sexual.

  We enter a room and the light comes on automatically. I can see the single-guy touch everywhere. I don’t mean messy, that’s a different story. It’s tidy, just stark and I don’t really see anything personal except for one framed picture on the dresser. It clatters off its hinged stand as my back presses against it, feeling his hand working my dress up over my hips. There’s not really anything I can do to help, so I just kiss him, letting myself be free to experience the wantonness of the moment. Rough hands move all over and I’m just lost in his lips, waiting for the moment that I know is coming; his own hunger apparently matching my own. I can feel my sex pulsing, jumping every time his fingers bush by, but I know that’s not his aim.

  This time it’s me who pulls back, breaking the kiss. He looks into my eyes, almost startled, and I whisper again, a huskiness in my voice this time around. “Yes. Please.”

  The grip on me lightens and I exhale as I feel my weightless body lowering; and then he’s pressing inside of me. I realize I haven’t even seen him, and don’t want to. His eyes are everything to me in this moment, reading the longing and the desire, the need and the passion; all encompassed in those dark brown eyes. I want to close my eyes and focus my senses on my body, but those eyes just won’t let me go, and as he fills me, they reflect as much pleasure and satisfaction as I am feeling.

  Deeper and deeper I slide and I can feel him filling me up, my own body’s response to his touch preparing the way for him. It hurts a little, but I don’t even think my eyes are showing it; it’s inconsequential compared to the other sensations. It’s like he’s taking my very heart and soul in this one act, the look in his eyes and the feeling of him inside of me inexorably linked together. It’s a moment that even in the present, I know will stay with me for the rest of my life. My body finally rests against him, just as I feel the point where I know it just couldn’t physically take any more. He just stands there, holding me pressed against the dresser, finally breaking the link between our eyes in another perfect kiss.

  Starting to move in me, the sense of fullness is overwhelming, triggering ripples of pleasure everywhere his skin contacts mine. Something about the feeling of another’s skin on mine moves me like nothing else; any other touch just doesn’t have the same tug at my soul or create that connection I crave. I feel my body being peeled off the dresser as we pivot to the bed, and in a moment I’m pressed back into the comforter, my legs spreading wide on their own accord, as if wanting to draw him in deeper, which I know isn’t even possible. His weight is on me, pressing me into the mattress, as his hands come out from beneath me, roughly taking me beh
ind each knee, forcing me open even more as I feel him sliding out of my body’s embrace.

  The eye contact is almost too intense for me as I feel him taking me once again, his weight pressing me down, then over and over the process repeats and I know that he’s going to quickly push me to the edge. It had been the turning point of our last encounter. The gush of wetness he brought to me had practically mortified me and my natural fight or flight response chose the latter. This time it’s going to be different. I hear the sounds coming out of my mouth like they’re not even my own, a soft keening that becomes a moan, the moan becoming a low, guttural sound that’s almost animalistic.

  Electricity courses through my body but Avery is relentless, his body crushing down onto me over and over again as I reach orgasm, my legs tensing as I feel the flush of pleasure coursing from the center of me outward, encompassing my whole body. As I’m riding the heights of ecstasy, he plunges to the heart of me and I can feel him release, each pulse of him inside of me crisp and distinct as he fills me. The brief terror of this unprotected moment flits away like a leaf on the wind as he collapses on top of me, his breathing only slightly elevated. The weight is a lot, but I’m loving it, imagining I can feel the beating of his heart against my chest. Those eyes come up to mine once again, and I get the overwhelming feeling that I’m lost already.

  Chapter Eighteen: Avery

  Suzanne is upstairs sleeping and breakfast is cooking, as much for me as it will be for her when she wakes up. Unfortunately, I never seem to be able to sleep past six, regardless of what time I hit the rack at night. Something kept me next to her until half-past seven, though some of that was just enjoying the moment, holding her loosely in my arms. After our encounter, we had just worked our way up onto the bed, shared the few words that expressed the emotions the embrace didn’t encompass, and before I knew it, she was sound asleep.

  I watched her for a bit, then drifted off myself.

  The eggs are sizzling and I’m feeling happier than I have for a long time, pretty happy with myself for the way things have turned out so far. Despite some initial missteps, it happened, and the Goddess is upstairs, sleeping off our lovemaking in my bed and I can still smell her on me. A shower is definitely in the plan since I’m still wearing the shirt I wore last night; a pair of exercise shorts my only nod to comfort from how I slept. I flip through my phone to make sure there aren’t any messages, then turn on the sound system, letting the shuffle pick from among the big collection of MP3s that are one of my few vices. Leonard Cohen starts playing. Appropriate. I can feel the smile on my face that would probably freeze most of my acquaintances with shock.

  If you want a driver, climb inside…

  …or if you want to take me for a ride…you know you can…

  When you’ve been in a lot of combat zones, there’s a sixth sense that slowly develops if you’re lucky enough. I can feel her coming down the stairs, soundlessly. I turn and my eyes run from the delicate shape of her feet to her supple calves, just as her thighs appear below the landing. She ducks her head a little to see, as if examining her surroundings, or maybe even looking for me.

  “Good morning, Sunshine.” I say, cheerily. It’s something my mom always said, and I feel the parallel in the scene, her cooking breakfast as I came sleepily down into the kitchen. Every old memory points to Suzanne and every new memory I make with her fits into the puzzle of my life like the perfect missing piece.

  She’s wearing one of my shirts, tugging at the tail of it, looking a bit sheepish. It’s one of my favorite images of her to this point. Gorgeous isn’t nearly a good enough word.

  “Breakfast?” I slide an egg onto a plate alongside the rest. I had been just getting ready to chow down on it myself.

  “I needed to get out of that dress.” Suzanne says, her fingers still toying at the tail of my button-down shirt.

  “Mi casa es su casa. It certainly looks better on you, anyway.” I respond, knowing I need to cut out the cheesy statements. It’s just so hard for me to make conversation with her with everything that’s going on in my head. I don’t want them to get tangled together and me let slip that I’m hoping to spend the rest of my life with her and have as many children as she’ll allow. Probably a wee bit premature for that without coming off like a psycho.

  I turn off the burners, offering her the plate as she crosses the room. I can almost hear the pad of her feet on the hardwood floor.

  “Avery, I…” She says as she accepts the plate. I lean down and kiss her, interrupting her words.

  “It can wait, Suzanne.” The smile she gives me is priceless.

  Chapter Nineteen: Suzanne

  I start to say at least a dozen things sitting here at bouncer-guy’s dining room table, but each one is crumpled up and thrown out like a bad idea in a brainstorming session. So many emotions are there that I don’t know where to begin. I can feel the walls of my defenses going up, and I try to suppress them. They serve their purpose, protecting me from being hurt, but sometimes they are preemptive, and I don’t want that. Not with Avery. It’s just all been so overwhelming I’m having a hard time processing it.

  “You’re even beautiful in the morning.” He says, softly between bites. A throwaway comment that could easily be taken wrong, but I can just feel the sincerity in him and that’s what’s throwing me off. Can he really be for real? I know I blush, but I give it to him, not that I have the power to stop it.

  “You don’t look too bad yourself.” I respond, trying to be bold.

  He looks down at his shirt. “Yeah, I didn’t want the shower to wake you up, but that’s the next stop.”

  “Big plans today?” I ask, realizing I’m barely eating. I take a bite of toast.

  Avery grins big. “I’m hoping I have a date today.” The look is one I would expect to see on the face of an excited little boy.

  It throws me off for a moment, but then I remember our previous conversation. “If you’re still game.” He adds.

  “I’m still game.” I say, then hear my phone ringing upstairs.

  “That’s you.”

  “They’ll leave a message.”

  He seems to regroup for a second. “Thank you for last night.”

  I’m not sure I’ve ever been thanked for that, though nothing like that has really ever happened to me before. I don’t really know what to say.

  “I just…” He says, and I can see he’s having trouble with the words behind the thoughts that are wrinkling his brow. “I just don’t really do this sort of thing, and sometimes I’m a little clumsy talking to someone I…” He trails off and I realize I’m aching to know what the last word should have been. My own words are too far away.

  “I haven’t been with anyone for a couple of years, and since I met you, that’s about all I’ve been able to think about. Seeing you is usually the highlight of my week, and since…this happened, I’m just afraid I’ll scare you off. I’ve been accused of being a bit intense sometimes.” He finishes with a weak smile, as if his humor didn’t even land for himself. I help him with it.

  “A bit…you think?” I follow it with a smile and another bite as it looks like he could be taking my comment either of two ways. I push him in the right direction. “I’m still here and I don’t plan on running away again, Avery.”

  The relief on his face is surprising. God, I just want to crawl into his arms and just believe his words, but the walls are still there, it’s just the upward movement has been arrested for now.

  “Do you want to do something fun?” He asks, his eyes lighting as if he just had an idea, then he steps back. “That is, if we’re still on for today. A real date.”

  “A real date sounds fabulous. What do you have in mind?”

  I get the first hint of a mischievous side to him. “It’ll be a surprise.”

  The smile I give him is genuine.

  Chapter Twenty: Suzanne

  The walk of shame feels so much better when a guy like Avery is walking it next to you. We stop at my apartme
nt to change, and I crack the door before inviting him in, making sure Anjelica is presentable, though I’m more uncomfortable with the appearance of my home than her own. His place was not only a lot nicer, it was immaculate. I, on the other hand, live with a slob.

  “Hey Suze.” She says from the couch, still in the workout clothes she normally sleeps in when she doesn’t have company.

  “I’ve got someone with me, just coming in to change and go back out.”

  Anjelica smiles wickedly and gives me a wink, seeing what I’m wearing. “No problem here, Suze.”

  There’s an evil satisfaction burning in me as I come in, Avery in tow. I can see her eyes widen as he steps into the apartment like a shadow blocking the sun.

  “Avery, this is Anjelica.” I say. “I’m just going to run and change…hey, I don’t know where we’re going, so I don’t know what to wear. Formal, casual?”

  “Casual.” He says. “Anjelica. Chase’s girl, right?”

  I hear that deep baritone as I duck into my bedroom, trying not to let her see the smile that I have no hope of wiping off my face. He definitely has two voices, and I feel the importance of having the other directed to me. Half dressing, half listening to the conversation in the other room, I frantically try to decide what to wear, still not really sure what would be appropriate. Men can be frustrating, but I’m far from complaining right now. Settling on a pair of capris, I root through and find a t-shirt that matches, checking in the mirror to make certain the girls are displayed to their best ability. Hair, check, makeup…fuck, he told me I was beautiful like this? Two minutes, no more. Last night’s makeup has to go. I scour it off quickly, not entirely unpleased with the result.