Major Arcana: sex, love, and Tarot

Chapter 17: Strength

It was Friday afternoon and Rosemary counted down the hours, eager to meet up with Fabricio after his last test. They'd been texting all week, of course. Rosemary was amazed at how much she'd missed seeing him, touching him. At night, as she struggled to fall asleep alone, she remembered the feel of his skin, the way he trembled as her fingers brushed the sensitive edge of his lower belly. Her hand was tired from all those restless imaginings.

That morning she had drawn a card: Strength. On it, a woman stood proudly, an infinity symbol hovering over her head. Her hands were around the neck of a powerful male lion. At first Rosemary thought 'strength' referred to the lion itself; king of the jungle and all that. But the more she looked at it, the more she began to feel that Strength was actually the woman. Was she taming the lion, or comforting it? Were they, in fact, one and the same?

"Girl, you dreaming," Latysha said with an exasperated sigh.

"What? Oh. Sorry, Latysha. I just miss him, you know?"

Latysha's smile could almost be described as grim. "Rosemary, I never seen you have it so bad. You two together what, a week?"

"Almost three weeks." The idea of – almost a month! – made her break into a grin.

"Yeah, three weeks, you still in the honeymoon stage. Before you go and fall in love with a man, you got to test him. Something got to happen, and you see how he reacts. No point sticking with a man who not strong enough to take care of you, that's all I got to say."

*

Latysha's words, well meant as they were, didn't make the time pass any faster. Nor did they give Rosemary any pause. She was in so deep with Fabricio already, a week apart already felt like ages. When six o'clock came around she clocked out on the dot, called a hasty goodbye to Latysha (shaking her head, muttering "good luck"), and ran for the bus. She was on her way by 6:08.

Everything fled from her mind when she saw Fabricio. Whatever she'd been meaning to say – about Columbia, about her week, the funniness of Thyme's new relationship – was erased the second their lips touched. Rosemary's arms were tight around his neck, her hips braced against the armrest of his chair as she perched in his lap. He had one hand between her shoulder blades, the other around her thigh, holding her close and kissing her like they were alone, not in the middle of the dorm lobby.

A few people whistled, and one guy (who sounded a lot like Chad) shouted, "You go, dude!" It all seemed like white noise to Rosemary. She focused on the delicate texture of his tongue inside her mouth, the steady pressure of his hand on her back. Fabricio spoke through his lips, and Rosemary responded. For a few precious seconds there was no thought, only sensations. And love.

He finally pulled back with a slightly embarrassed smile. "Hey," he said.

She giggled. "Hey, yourself."

"Are you hungry? The dining hall's just next door." His voice was hesitant, as if he felt he should be proposing dinner, but didn't actually want to. Which was just as well, because food was the last thing on Rosemary's mind.

"Are you kidding?!" she hissed. "All I want is you. Now."

In a blur they were together on his bed. He was halfway undressed, his shirt unbuttoned, gaping open on his chest as he fumbled to unzip his fly. Rosemary stripped off her pants and underwear, gasping as cool air met her wet arousal. Too impatient to bother with her shirt, she straddled his hips and roughly tugged off his jeans. He gasped as she lifted the waistband of his boxers, reaching in with one hand to pull him out. Rosemary let out a little moan, too; it was a hot visual, with his package lifted and framed by the bunching fabric. She couldn't wait to savor it, though. Grabbing hold, she positioned herself on top and, with a thick-throated groan, plunged onto him.