At This Moment

by Karen Cimms

  Her fingers tangled in his hair, traced the curve of his ear, and caressed the ridges of muscle beneath his shirt. She wasn’t sure what she was doing, but it felt right.

  Billy ran a finger under the waistband of her jeans. When he got to the button, he wrapped his fist around it, practically lifting her off the bed. Their eyes locked. Yes. She wasn’t sure if she’d said it aloud or only thought it, but he understood. He unfastened her jeans and slid them off slowly, along with her panties, his long fingers trailing her skin. Unwilling to look at her nakedness, she stared at the ceiling, focused on the soft circle of light from the bedside lamp.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, brushing her hair off her shoulders, leaving her totally exposed. The words were soft, reverent. “You are really beautiful.”

  She lowered her eyes to meet his. The way he spoke, she almost believed him.

  Lightly, he traced her shoulders, her breasts. Every place he touched came alive. Lowering his head, he swirled his tongue around her nipple, then captured it into his mouth, sucking gently. When his eyes met hers, they burned with such intensity, she wanted to fall into them. She was waking up, coming to life. For the first time ever, she was truly in the moment. A certain numbness she hadn’t even realized she’d possessed fell away. She felt raw and vulnerable, but she wasn’t afraid. She was alive. The scratch of scruff against her breasts and the silkiness of his hair in her hands. The taste of his mouth and the saltiness of his skin. The scrape of his teeth. The spicy, intoxicating hint of lemongrass curled around her. She heard her heart beat, felt her blood move through her veins. She felt it all.

  Billy’s mouth burned its way from her breasts to her belly, each kiss searing her. He ran his tongue along the sharp wings of her hip bones. Trembling beneath him, she dug her fingers into his arms, afraid she couldn’t pull enough air into her lungs to keep from fainting—and when he nipped the soft skin at her waist, she almost did.

  He stood and slipped off his clothes. Then he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him. She melted into him, no longer knowing where she ended and he began. He wound a handful of her hair around his fist, and tilting her head back, not quite rough, he buried his face against her throat, alternating between soft bites and long, slow kisses.

  “I want you, Katie.” His voice was low and thick, and with that simple sentence, her life changed.

  She lowered her eyes, then looking up, met his. “Yes.”

  Poised above her, Billy gently pushed her legs apart with his knees. He teased at first, coming close, yet holding back. Some primal part of her knew what to do, and her body took over. She pressed her thighs against his.

  Still he held back.

  “Are you a virgin?” he asked, dragging his nose against hers.

  She bit her bottom lip, then nodded.

  He searched her eyes. “You sure about this?” It sounded almost as if he were in pain.

  “I am,” she whispered. She was past the point of no return.

  Long past.

  He responded by pressing his mouth against hers, his tongue probing deeply. A tiny growl escaped from deep in his throat. She moaned. As if that was a signal, he lifted his face.

  “Look at me,” he whispered. “Stay with me.”

  She was drowning in honey-flecked pools of blue, but she felt anchored, safe. She moved beneath him, wanting more, wanting him. And with one quick thrust, he was inside her. The pain was sharp and stabbing, and although she had expected some measure of it, it still surprised her. Crying out, she pushed against him, but he held her tightly. He bent his head over hers, whispering her name, promising it wouldn’t hurt for long. He kissed her neck and her face.

  When the pain faded, she began to move. He pulled her knees up, one at a time, and wrapped them around his hips. Then he moved inside her, rocking, slowly at first. As the momentum built, her head rolled back and he buried his face against her throat.

  “Open your eyes,” he said after a while, his breathing ragged. “I wanna see you.”

  Eyes locked, she held onto him, digging her fingers into his back. She was afraid to blink; afraid to break the connection. What was left of her inhibitions cracked, the delicate fragments floating away, until nothing remained but the two of them. Finally, he shuddered several times. His mouth found hers once more before he collapsed beside her, cradling her in his arms.

  Not a single word existed that could describe all that she was feeling. And she felt everything all at once: happiness, contentment, completion, adoration, even sadness. But the thing that resonated most within her? She felt wanted.

  She trembled from the scope of emotion. Silent tears trailed her cheeks.

  “Does it still hurt?”

  “No. I don’t know why I’m crying.”

  He kissed away her tears, then reached over and turned out the light. Holding her close, he tucked the covers around them.

  In the dark, he cradled her face in one hand and kissed her again, deeply.

  Sleep beckoned. But before she gave in, she tried to commit every detail of what had just happened to memory, praying she would never forget one single moment.

  Chapter Five

  Snow fell over New Brunswick. Kate and Billy slept tangled in each other’s arms. Every few hours, he stirred. His mouth found hers. His hands claimed her body. Each time, she unfolded into him, and barely awake, he made love to her again.

  In the morning, as thin strips of daylight crept out from behind the curtains, Kate felt a touch of sadness. Not for what she’d done—she would never regret that—but because whatever this had been, it would soon come to an end.

  Nestled into the crook of Billy’s arm, her bare leg draped over his, she studied his face as he slept. He looked younger but just as beautiful. His hair, splayed across the pillow, reflected a thousand shades of gold. Judging by the quiet breaths coming from his slightly parted lips, he was in a deep sleep. With the tip of her finger, she traced defined stomach muscles to the thin line beneath his navel, then over the coiled black serpent inked along the sharp V of his lower abdomen. Unable to resist, she reached down further. His eyes shot open, followed by a sleepy smile.

  That was one way to wake him. He rewarded her until she lay there panting, the sheets gripped tightly in her fists.

  “I guess you liked that?” he said, smiling up at her, his chin propped on her belly.

  She nodded, still unable to catch her breath. If she’d read every romance novel ever written, she still wouldn’t have been prepared for the last twelve hours.

  “What have you done to me?” she asked when she could finally speak.

  With a devilish gleam in his eyes, he nipped the inside of her thigh. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No,” she answered, her chest still heaving. “That’s not what I meant. I’m not the same girl who walked into Kildare’s Friday night.”

  He gave her a disarming smile, then ran his tongue in a straight line up her stomach, between her breasts, and over her throat. When he reached her mouth, he asked if she was sorry.

  “No.” She sighed as she cupped his face in her hands. “Not at all.”

  Most of the day was spent in bed. They alternated between watching TV, having sex, and eating day-old cake washed down with instant coffee. It was late afternoon before Billy dragged her into the bathroom for a shower—a very long shower.

  “Hungry?” he asked, slipping his arms around her waist as she finished drying her hair.

  “Starving.”

  “Get dressed. We’ll go get some real food.”

  After stepping into her jeans and tank top, she reached for her jacket, but he stopped her. “You’ll freeze in that.” He slipped one of his sweaters over her head, following it with a kiss in the center of her forehead. A small flame of hope ignited deep within her.

  Nearly a foot of snow had fallen. The parking lot had been plowed, and now two feet of snow blocked Billy’s van. He borrowed a snow shovel from the office, and while he dug them out, Kate brus
hed snow from the windows with her hands. It wasn’t long before they were stinging from the cold, so she stood nearby, watching and feeling useless.

  “If you’re not going to sit in the car, then at least stick your hands in your pockets,” he scolded. “You’re going to get frostbite.”

  Stick her hands in her pockets, when there was all this snow? She ducked in front of the van. A few seconds later, a snowball whizzed past his head. He whipped around as the second found its target. He dropped the shovel and raced toward her. Letting out a loud screech, she tried to escape, but her boots wouldn’t cooperate and she landed face down in a snowbank. Scooping up a handful of snow, he flipped her over and pressed himself on top of her.

  “No!” she screamed with laughter. “You’ll get your sweater wet!”

  “I’m not wearing it.” His hand got dangerously close. “Why should I care?”

  She tried to wriggle free, but it was no use. “Go ahead.” She squeezed her eyes shut and grit her teeth. But instead of dousing her with snow, he kissed her. Long and hard. She was breathless by the time he pulled away, and only after the front desk manager started yelling for them to take it inside.

  “Cool your jets, buddy,” Billy yelled as he helped her to her feet. She brushed the snow from her jeans and climbed into the van, feeling warm in spite of the temperature. He returned the shovel, then climbed in beside her. He blew on his hands to warm them, then did the same with hers.

  “Where to?”

  “I would kill for a pub burger and a wedge salad. Do you mind going back to Kildare’s?”

  “Works for me.”

  Although the place was empty compared to Friday, Billy still commanded quite a bit of attention. Kate steered him to a booth in the back. As the waitress headed toward them with menus, she asked him to order her a cup of tea while she ducked into the ladies room to wash her hands. When she returned, she was surprised to see the waitress still talking with him, even more so when she slid a piece of paper across the table. Billy winked, then picked it up and slipped it into his pocket. As Kate approached, the girl gave her a cool once-over before heading to the bar to get his beer.

  “I guess she recognized you from the other night,” Kate said, swallowing her disappointment as she slipped into the booth across from him.

  He shrugged and smiled.

  “Did you decide what you’re going to have?” she asked, suppressing an irritating pang of jealousy.

  “Pub burger, wedge salad, Thousand Island dressing.”

  “Excellent choice.”

  “You come here often?”

  She peeked at him over her menu. “You’re a little late with that line, aren’t you?”

  His chuckle was low and throaty.

  “Actually, my dad used to bring me here when I was little. We’d come for football and basketball games. He’s an alumnus. That’s why I’m here—family tradition.” She began plucking sugar packets from their holder, one by one, aligning them on top of one another. “But in recent years, only twice before the other night. Once when they brought me and Joey before I applied to Rutgers. The other time was when they dropped me off in August.” She made sure the pile was perfectly square, then one by one, returned them to their rightful place.

  “Who’s Joey?”

  “My best friend.”

  “She go to Rutgers, too?”

  “He. And no. He graduated a year ahead of me. There was some trouble at home, so he moved to New York. We keep in touch, but I haven’t seen him in months. I should just get on the train and go, but my parents would be furious.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  She hesitated for a second, then shrugged. “Joey’s gay. When he told his father, he threw him out.”

  “That sucks. Did you know he was gay?”

  “Not until high school. I never really thought about it until I found myself with the biggest crush on him.”

  He grimaced as he reached for his beer. “Ouch.”

  “I was hurt and embarrassed, but it’s all good. I love him with all my heart.” Billy raised an eyebrow. “You know. Like a brother. Maybe more than a brother. He’d do anything for me, and vice versa.”

  “New York’s not that far. Your parents wouldn’t even know. Seriously, you’ve probably done worse things than go to New York without permission.” He waggled his eyebrows, making her laugh and blush at the same time.

  “I love New York,” he added. “All that energy. We have a gig in Manhattan in a couple weeks.”

  “Ooh, where? Madison Square Garden?”

  “Someday, maybe.”

  She rested her head on the heel of her hand. God, he has a beautiful smile.

  The food came, and she was pleased to notice that other than a polite thank you, Billy didn’t give the waitress a second glance. While they ate they talked about everything, from their favorite cereals—Cheerios for him, farina for her—to books.

  “Let me guess,” he said, sizing her up. “Pride and Prejudice?”

  She nodded. “And you? Ulysses?”

  “Definitely not my favorite, but I’m trying to read all the great novels.”

  “Ugh!” She stuck out her tongue. “I wouldn’t call it great. For the first forty or fifty pages, I thought it was a story about a couple priests who lived in a tree house near the beach.”

  He choked on his beer. “What the hell?” Laughing, he wiped his mouth with a napkin.

  “I think my mind wandered so much, I didn’t know what the heck Joyce was talking about. That stream of consciousness stuff? Seems like he was a drug-addled pervert, if you ask me.”

  “Some of my best friends are drug-addled perverts.”

  He’d said it so seriously, she hesitated until she saw the corner of his mouth twitch. “My apologies for your friends, but as far as Ulysses is concerned, I think it’s like The Emperor’s New Clothes.”

  Now he just looked confused. She dabbed her mouth with a napkin and continued.

  “The emperor’s told he’s wearing fine new garments, and he struts around believing it. Everybody thinks it’s just them who don’t see the clothing, so they act like they do. It’s the same with Ulysses. Scholars act like it’s a masterpiece, so wannabe scholars go along so they won’t look stupid.”

  He picked up his burger, but hesitated, as if trying to digest what she’d said. “I’ll take your comments under advisement and come to my own conclusion when I finish.”

  “As long as it’s your conclusion and not that of the rest of the kingdom,” she said, waving a French fry.

  “It will be. I’m not easily swayed.”

  Back at the motel, Billy sat on the bed as she slipped off his sweater and began gathering her things. When she walked past, he grabbed her hand.

  “Stay,” he said, embarrassed by the pleading tone of his voice.

  She bit her bottom lip, and he felt it all the way into his groin. “I can’t. I have a paper to write and a test to study for, not to mention a nine o’clock class.”

  He stood. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, he drew his fingers along her neck and down her chest to the space between her breasts. Her eyes were wide and dark. If he pushed a little harder, he knew she’d stay.

  Instead, he did the sensible thing and helped her into her jacket.

  The crisp air outside cleared his head. It was like he’d been in a trance or something. What the hell had he been thinking? This had been fun, but she was just a kid. He had a lot of plans, none of which included a girlfriend—at least, not now. This is what he’d wanted since his grandfather handed him that Martin. He was going places, and small-town New Jersey wasn’t one of them.

  He stole a glance at Kate, clinging to his arm as she dodged patches of ice. This was a girl who could get under his skin. If he was smart, he’d take her back to her dorm and kiss her good-bye. Remembering the taste of her skin nearly derailed him. He bent and scooped up a handful of snow, rubbing it on the back of his neck.

  “What’re you doing?” s
he cried, struggling to remain upright while still hanging onto his arm.

  “Are you planning to fall down again?”

  “I don’t know,” she said with a laugh. “It was so nice last time, I just might. Of course, you could always carry me.”

  In one swift movement, he scooped her up. “Now that I have you where I want you, I’ll just carry you back upstairs.”

  She managed a sad smile, then looped her arm around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. Fighting the insane urge to again beg her to stay, he turned and carried her to the van.

  The ride to her dorm seemed to last only a few minutes. “Walking or riding?” he asked, helping her out of the van.

  “I’m pretty sure I can make it the rest of the way.” She rolled her lips and looked up at him expectantly.

  “Well, Katie my love,” he said, channeling his stage persona. “It’s been a real pleasure.”

  Her body stiffened, and she gave him a tight smile. He knew she sensed the difference—he was a real shit.

  She stood on her toes and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek.

  “Goodnight, Billy. It was nice meeting you.” She hesitated for a moment. “Good luck with everything.” Then she turned and tottered off on those ridiculous heels. She didn’t look back. Not once.

  He stood there long after she was gone, waiting. For what, he wasn’t quite sure.

  Sex.

  For a musician, it was everywhere. You could be fat and bald. It didn’t matter. If you played well enough, there were always girls waiting in the wings—a blow job backstage, a quick fuck in the parking lot. Then it was on to the next gig, the next town, the next girl. Older women, younger women. Teachers, secretaries, lawyers, doctors.