When I get home there's a note from FedEx that they've left a package with Electra. I knock on her back door. "You have something for me?"
"Come on in. I'm so curious! There's a package and a letter that was overnighted. The letter is from New Zealand."
"What?"
"Do you know somebody there?"
"Kind of. My other dad." I follow her into the kitchen, which smells like chocolate baking. "Is that brownies I smell?"
"It is." She hands me the flat overnight letter, wrapped in official FedEx International packaging. The handwriting is typical man-style, kind of rushed and not all that neat, but the look of it is kind of...foreign, I guess, with a different slant, a slightly different way of making letters. I touch them, and a memory goes through me: whispering, trees blowing outside classroom windows, the mountains in the background. Far away. Long ago.
His name is right there. Keiran Pears. "I found him on Facebook," I tell Electra. "We started talking a little bit. I can't believe he sent me something."
"Open it up, girl!"
I open the letter first. Inside, an envelope is taped to a package wrapped in balloon birthday paper. The card has my name on it. It's a birthday card for a little kid, with bears and balloons on the front. He's written on the inside.
Dear Jess. I've missed a lot of birthdays, so give me this chance to make up for that a little bit. This will make it easier for us to talk to each other. I set up an account for you with a local phone company. You won't have to pay anything. That's the least I can do. Once you get it up and going, send me a text at 011-67-03-51-983. Love, Dad.
I read it aloud to Electra, then turn my attention to the package. The package is from Apple, and my heart rushes with anticipation. Using the knife Electra gives me to slit the paper, I get it open.
My mouth falls open. "An iPad? Is it really?"
"Open it and see."
It's the real thing. Sleek and black, the most elegant thing I've ever owned. "Wow." I take out the instruction leaflet and press the button the way it tells me to. The screen comes on and I follow the instructions, one at time, until the main screen shows up. Ready to go.
I find the message icon and type in the number. And text OMG! I can't believe you sent me an iPad!!!!!!!!!!! It's the nicest thing I've ever owned!
In two seconds a ding tells me he's texted back. You got it! That's great! Hope you like it.
I do, I do, I do. I'll have my bf help me set up Skype, too.
When can we talk face to face? I'm so excited to see you in person!
Suddenly shy, I look at Electra. "I'm kind of freaked out by this. Is it weird? What if there's something wrong with him? Like, why did we lose touch?"
"Seems to me he's a lot of miles away, so you're safe enough right now. Can't hurt to talk."
"You're right."
I text back. I'm pretty open Thursday. Can we try then?
What time is it there now?
3:45 pm
What if I talked you thru Skype download? Can you talk now?
I look at Electra, who is sitting down at her table, making a grocery list. "He wants to help me download Skype and talk." I widen my eyes. "Right now."
Her dark eyes are calm. "Do you want to?"
I take a breath. "I'm nervous! But...yeah. I think I do."
"There's your answer."
"Right." I lick my lips. Type, Okay! Tell me what to do.
Really?
Yeah. I'm with my neighbor Electra. Is that okay? She's making brownies.
Sure, of course.
Step by step, he takes me through the process of downloading the Skype app and helps me get it set up. A couple of times I get frustrated, trying to figure out what I'm doing wrong, but it's not even ten minutes before I can see his number, with a little green phone beside it.
I stop and take a breath, my hands on my thighs. "I haven't talked to my dad since I was seven."
"I'll give you some privacy." She starts to stand up.
"No! Stay!"
She keeps going, pressing a hand to my shoulder. "I'll just be in the other room, child."
My heart is pounding as I text I'm ready.
The machine makes a little noise, and I see the icon blinking and touch it. A face appears, a man with curly black hair and twinkling eyes.
My dad. I'm swamped with images, memories, all tangled up.
Tears fill my eyes and I cover my mouth. I can't even talk because there's so much emotion roaring through me, like the water in Manitou, rushing through the streets. "I'm sorry," I finally manage, and hiccup a little. "Wow, I didn't know-"
He's emotional, too, and he's blinking really hard. "Me, too. Jess. Me, too." His accent is strong. "You do look a bit like your mother," he says. "But you've got a lot of my family in you, too. I can see it in your nose and chin."
I just keep staring at him, a weird buzzing in my ears. I'm feeling shy, but so full that I hardly know what to say. "You look just like I remember you," I say at last.
"You do remember?"
"Yeah," I say. "A lot. I don't know that I knew that until we started talking."
He nods, mouth serious.
Electra comes through and hands me a fistful of tissues. "That was Electra," I say.
"Hello, Electra!" he says in a sing-song voice.
He's outside, with sunshine and trees behind him. "So these are my vineyards," he says, waving to one side. "Do you want to see them?"
"Yes, of course."
He picks up his own machine; I figure it must be an iPad, too. I'm suddenly looking toward a line of mountains, with rows of plants in between. Even I know what grapevines look like. "Wow, that's beautiful."
"We grow grapes for Sauvignon Blanc for our own label, but also ship grapes to the US for some California labels, too. Americans are drinking a lot of Sauvignon Blanc these days."
I don't even know what that is, other than wine of some sort, but don't want to say so. "What's your label?"
"I can show you." The accent suddenly rings in my head, singing and fluty, and I suddenly remember being in school in America, thinking they all sounded strange. "Dad, did I have an accent when I left?"
"Course you did. Proper little Kiwi, you were."
"I forgot about that."
His camera bounces over to a row of bottles, very simple and clean. Long Cloud Sauvignon Blanc, Marlborough New Zealand is on the label. "This is us. Right here."
"Nice."
The camera spins back to show his face, and he's holding the iPad out in front of him as he walks. "Tell me about yourself, Jess. What do you do?"
I give him a half grin. "I'm a waitress right now. Trying to figure out what's next. My boyfriend helped me fill out some financial aid papers for school last night. And I've been kind of trying to get on at this greenhouse a couple of blocks away."
"You like growing things?"
"Oh, yeah. Let me show you! How can I do what you did with the camera?"
He tells me, and when the camera is reversed, I carry the iPad through the kitchen. "I wish you could smell it in here," I say. "Electra's brownies are amazing." I head into the back yard and pan over the garden and my little house, sitting against the alley. "This is Electra's garden, and I help her with it. The corn is mine, and I've eaten almost every single pea out here."
"It's beautiful, Jess. Lush."
"But that's not the main thing I want to show you. Come on." I keep walking. "This is so cool! I can't believe I'm talking to you in New Zealand!"
"I'm just glad to talk to you after so long."
I think about asking him why we never talked, but for now I want to show him the house. "Okay, so this is my house. It's tiny, but it's mine. These are the flowers I'm growing. Ordinary, right? But this is my first time." I go up the steps to my house, open the screen door and go inside. "This is the inside. But these-" I pan the camera over the shelves of plants in front of the lace curtains. "-these are some of my plants." I get a close up of the Rex begonia, the leaves swirling in extravagant patterns. "This is my Rex. Super proud of it." I carry the iPad into the kitchen, show him the African violets on the windowsill. "These, too. Grew them from one leaf each."
"You have a green thumb, like your dad. And look at your place. It's like a cabin, isn't it? Like a lake house."
I spin the camera around. "Yes! That's exactly what I love about it." I look at the walls and shrug. "It's also really cheap."
He's sitting down again, and I sit down, too, feeling a little shy but drinking in his face. "I didn't think you would look so familiar to me." I press my hand to my chest. "It makes my heart hurt a little bit."
He nods, his face serious. "Mine, too." He clears his throat. "How's your mom?"
I'm completely still. Of course he doesn't know. I try to figure out how to say it, but he figures it out by my face.
"She's gone?"
I nod. "She died almost five years ago in an accident."
"Oh, Jess. Oh, I'm so sorry. Did you not know how to get in touch with me? You could have come-"
"I have a stepdad. Henry. We were okay."
"Henry, sure. I remember Henry." It's my dad's turn to be flustered. "A good man. An artist or something."
I smile. "Sculptor."
For a minute then we're both quiet. I can't keep looking at his face, and he looks away, then back. I have a million questions, but I don't want dark stuff to interfere with this, because this feels good. "Do you have any kids?"
He shakes his head. "Only you. I'm married, though."
"I saw her picture on Facebook. She looks really nice."
"She is. You'd like her. She'd like to meet you, you know. I've talked about you practically every day since we met."
I draw my eyebrows down. "So why didn't we talk?" It just comes out.
He looks stricken. "Your mum never told you?"
"Told me what?"
He glances away, his lips pursing, and suddenly I'm very small, looking up, reaching for him. He turns back, gives me a faint smile. "It's complicated, Jess. Your mom had-" He clears his throat. "She had some things going on. She asked me not to call. I respected her wishes."
"But I'm your daughter!"
"I know." His eyes are serious and clear. "Maybe your step-dad could help you out. I don't want to-"
At my side, my phone rings, startling in the quiet room. I jump a foot.
"Do you need to get that?"
I shake my head. "I'd rather talk a little longer. I don't want to end on a bad note."
"Me, either." He leans in and gives me a grin. "You think you'd ever come visit for a bit? We have plenty of room."
"I'd love it, but it's pretty expensive. We'll see."
"I'd send you a ticket."
I blink. "Wow."
"I would really like to see you, Jess. You have no idea. No idea." He reaches out to the screen, as if to touch my cheek, and I feel that wash of tears in my throat again. "There are so many things I want to know."
"I'll think about it," I say.
A voice on his end, quick and sharp, is somewhere over my head in space. My dad says, "Right. I'm on it." He's already standing up as he starts speaking to me. "We have an urgent situation here, Jess. I have to go. Can we do this again this weekend?"
"Sure. Thanks, Dad!"
"Think about coming to see me." Then he does something that breaks my heart. He leans in and puts his forehead close, and I suddenly remember our ritual before bed. I lean in, too, pressing my forehead against the screen. "Bye."
* * *
It's all I can do to leave the iPad alone long enough to shower and put on a sundress that shows off my back and my tan. My feet go in sandals, and I weave some braids around the top of my head to make my hair look more festive. Then, with twenty minutes to spare, I sit on my bed and open the iPad. I've played with them before in stores and once when a friend had one at school, but I feel like I've gone to a new planet. The colors are so beautiful. I don't know how to do anything, but I'm sure I'll figure it out. For now I open the icons one at a time, the calendar and the clock, the games and the bookshelf, which is empty.
I realize I can put books on here, too. Free ones, of course. But I can fill it up. Will I like reading this way? Or will it be cold and unfriendly?
When Tyler shows up I fly to the door, tablet in hand, to show him. "Look what my dad sent me! An iPad!"
He's carrying a box, too, and he puts it down on the couch. "Your dad sent it to you? From New Zealand?"
"I know. Weird. But he wants us to be able to Skype, and I think it made him sad when I said I go to the library to use the computers there."
He holds the iPad for a second, then hands it back to me. "Sweet! Now you can Skype me, too."
"Really? I hadn't thought of that."
It dawns on me that he's dressed a little nicer than usual, in black slacks and a blue button-front shirt with long sleeves, open at the neck just a little. His hair is brushed away from his face, showing off the angles and lines, bringing attention to his beautiful mouth. My stomach tightens, and I flash on the day I first met him, when I spied his collarbone in a shirt like this. "You look great," I say.
He kisses me. "So do you. I like your hair." He picks up the box. "I brought you a present."
"Two presents in one day!"
"It's not an iPad."
I grin at him, and pull open the flaps. It's clothes, neatly boxed with tissue paper. I set the box on the couch and uncover a dress. "Tyler, you didn't have to do this."
"I want you to feel like the beauty you are," he says, and his eyes are steady and clear.
The dress is simple and elegant, gossamer and rose colored, with a silk underdress that's a slightly darker pink. The hem flares a little, and the top is straight, with spaghetti straps. "It's beautiful!"
"Try it on. Sam at work told me your uniforms are a six."
"Perfect." I take the dress in the other room and spread it out on the bed, reaching for the ties of my sundress, which suddenly looks like a dress to wear to a picnic on a Sunday afternoon, not out to dinner. I wiggle out of it, then slide the rose dress over my head and pad into the other room. "Will you zip me?" I turn around to give him access.
He brushes my hair out of the way and kisses my shoulder, then zips me up. The dress fits exactly right, close around my torso, but not tight, flaring out gently over my hips. I brush my hands over the fabric, then dash into my room to look at myself in the mirror.
"I love it, Tyler!" I can't see my whole self, but almost all of me, and I twirl, right and left, to make the skirt lift. I feel like a princess.
Tyler comes up behind me and rolls my hair into a rope, then lifts it up and circles it around my head, slightly messy and sexy. "Can you pin it up? To show off your shoulders?"
I think about a magazine picture of a girl with flowers pinned into a messy chignon like this. "I don't know if it will stay, but maybe. Will you get the scissors from the left-hand kitchen drawer and go out and cut about three or four roses from the vine in front?"
He smiles at me in the mirror, his big hands making my shoulders look tiny. "Sure."
While he's busy with that, I weave my hair into a loose braid and wind it around my head, this way and that, trying to find a way to make it not look like I'm a milkmaid from the Alps. The truth is, there's a lot of hair to put up, and it's heavy, but I finally arrange it into a poofy thing at the top of my head and let some of it hang down, and when Tyler brings the roses back I tuck them into it, too.
"That's beautiful," he whispers, and bends to kiss my neck, his hands skimming over my sides. "I knew you'd look perfect in this dress the second I saw it."
"It really is beautiful," I say, and I'm pleased, but there's some part of me-maybe the voice of my mother-that wants to say more. "But you don't have to take care of me, ok? I love your kindness, but I've been living on my own for awhile now and doing fine."
"I know. Maybe I just like it." He meets my eyes in the mirror. "Look at us." He pulls me closer to him, and I tilt my head sideways so I won't bump his chin. His hands are on my waist, and I put my hands over them.
"We look great together."
His hips are against my butt. "But you've given me another hard-on." He grins wickedly. "I swear I've been hard for a solid week, thinking of you."
It takes me by surprise, I have to admit. I thought we were in a soft, romantic spot, and then he says that. I frown a little. "It's not always about sex, is it?"
"Isn't it?" He bends to kiss my neck, my shoulder, his hands sweeping down the front of the dress. I shiver a little, and my nipples show under the silk. He laughs gently, low in his throat. "Innocence and temptation," he murmurs, cupping my breasts. "Impossible to resist."
"It's embarrassing that you're always getting me heated up."
"No," he says earnestly. "We have something magical here, Jess. It's more than chemistry. It just shows up through the physical."
I'm touched, and reach behind me to brush my hand over his cheek. He kisses my palm. "Would you do me a favor?"
"Depends."
He slides up the skirt in back and tugs on my panties with his thumb. "Leave these here."
I raise an eyebrow, considering how I feel about that. He stands behind me, watching my face. "You don't have to if it bugs you. But there might be rewards."
In his eyes I see us together at dinner, in our lovely clothes, and this one delectably wicked thing that only we know. With a slight smile I slide my panties off and toss them on the bed. His eyes go dark as he bends to kiss my shoulder again, and his hand slides up under my dress, his palm skimming over the bare flesh of my thigh and then to my bottom. It's wildly arousing, and I give him a look.
He smoothes my dress back down, promise and heat in his eyes. "Thank you."
I gather my purse and slide my sandals on.
Tyler says, "Why don't you bring an overnight bag, just in case?"
I nod, and without a lot of fuss I gather up my work shoes, some socks and my uniform. From the bathroom I grab my blush and mascara and toothbrush. I dither about the brand new iPad, but when will I use it? This is enough.
"What time do you work tomorrow?" I ask
"Nine-thirty. You?"
"Same, to two."
"Perfect." He grins and offers his arm. "Now, let's eat. You're going to love this place."
* * *
The restaurant is downtown, and we have to park in a garage, then walk a couple of blocks. Sun pours down over the mountains and splashes into the trees, dances on storefronts. Tyler holds my hand, and I see people notice us. I'm proud to be seen with him.
The restaurant is elegant, a little dark, with candles on the tables. A woman leads us to a corner table with a view of the street and the mountains, and holds my chair as I sit down. I sit down too fast, then realize she's waiting to scoot it in as it hits the backs of my knees and I almost stumble, but Tyler catches my elbow in a strong grip. "Gotcha."
I shoot him a grateful glance, and he gives me his half-smile. I'm glad I'm with him, rather than anyone else. If I were with Rick, he'd be all goggle-eyed and feeling insecure and sneering to cover it.
Tyler is smooth, picks up the wine list. "Do you like any kind of wine in particular?"
I blink. "I don't really know any." Then I remember. "But my other dad told me his wine label today. Long Cloud."
"Do you know what kind of wine?"
I try to remember if he told me. "I'm not sure. What do they grow in Marlborough, New Zealand?"
Tyler gives me a little smile and pulls out his phone, types something into it. "Here we go. Long Cloud Wineries bottles and ships Sauvignon Blanc grapes." He tucks the phone back in his pocket. "They probably don't have Long Cloud, but we can order a Sauvignon Blanc so you can taste it."
"Yes, please." I wiggle a little in my excitement and wonder if that makes me look silly. He doesn't seem to care, and when I look around, no one else is paying us any attention.
He orders a bottle of wine as if it's expected, and the server doesn't ask for my ID, which surprises me. I have it with me, the fake one, but I'd be afraid to use it in a place that isn't full of noise and chaos. She'd be able to see it clearly, recognize it wasn't me, but I'm glad I have it as backup.
"The menu here is a little different," Tyler explains. "Family style, so we can order several things and share them, if that's all right."
I nod, looking at the categories, wondering what he likes. What I like. There are things I've never even heard of on the menu, and things I know of but have never eaten. It makes my ears burn. What if I order something I hate? What if I order too much?
"What looks good to you?" he asks.
"I don't know." My voice is more hushed than I would like.
He covers my hand with his. I look up. He smiles. "It's an adventure. Is there anything you want to know more about?"
"Maybe. What are Korean wings?"
"Let's ask when she comes back. I don't know, either."
"What else?"
"Edamame."
"Ah, now I do know about edamame. It's just baby soybeans in the pod, roasted and salted. We should have some."
I frown. "Sounds kinda weird."
"It might be. You don't know until you try, right?"
"But what if we order stuff and it's terrible?"
He laughs. It's a bold sound, full of light and exuberance. "So what? We don't eat any more of it."
"Really?"
"What if," he says, "we ask the server to bring us whatever she thinks will be great. Ask her to surprise us?"
His eyes glow in the candlelight, and his thumb moves over my hand. I'm wearing a dress that is suitable, and no one can see that my shoes are only sandals, and this amazing guy is sitting across from me, looking at me like I'm the best thing he's ever seen-and the world shifts. I can almost feel a part of me crack and fall away, like a chrysalis. "Okay," I say, and smile.
The woman brings our wine, which she pours for Tyler to taste. He swirls it and sniffs it, then sips. His eyebrow rises, and he smiles. "Perfect." He pours me a glassful. I wait until he orders our food-and our server is thrilled, by the way, to choose for us-and we're alone again. I lean forward. "What were you trying to smell? What do I do?"
"I'm no expert," he confesses, "and I don't actually know this wine very well, but pick the glass up by the stem so that your fingers don't warm the wine."
I imitate him.
"Then swirl it gently and let the fumes rise, then smell it and see what you can pick out."
He illustrates, and I follow along. I dip my nose in the glass, thinking I'll smell-well, wine, but to my surprise there's a lot more.
My face must say that, because Tyler smiles and says, "What do you smell?"
"Grass," I say, "and something like...lemons, maybe?" I smell it again, gently, and close my eyes. I can see sunshine and the ocean and a brown hill in the distance. I don't know if it's the wine or my memory, but I add, "Cat pee?" I start laughing.
He laughs with me. "I've heard that." He smells it and shakes his head. "I don't know. You might have a nose for this. All I got was lemons."
As I hold the glass, turning my head aside, then turning back, the memory floats back. "Huh. I think we must have lived on the winery before we left. That's funny-how much I don't remember and how much I do."
"Especially now that you're talking to your-what do you call him? Your other dad?"
I nod. "Now how do I taste it?"
"Same thing. Take a tiny sip and let it swirl around in your mouth and see what you taste. Or-" He sips without the ritual. "-you can just drink it."
"No, I want to do it right." The wine is not at all sweet-in fact, it's almost sharp, with edges-but I like it. In the little sip I take I taste grapefruit and that grassy thing and something I can't name. "Wow. That's great." I take another sip, bigger, and it splashes down the back of my throat like laughing wine.
He holds up his glass for a toast. "To us," he says, and my stomach flips as our glasses clink lightly.
"To us."
The whole meal is magical, full of tastes and rituals and Tyler's smile and his aquamarine eyes glowing in approval. We eat a ton of food and box up some to take home, and I have to excuse myself to go to the ladies room, which is the first time I remember that I don't have any panties on. As I pass behind Tyler's chair, I touch his shoulder and lean in to whisper, "I forgot I am...er...a little naked!"
He kisses my fingertips, his eyes darkening. "I didn't."
I can feel his eyes on me as I weave through the tables, and it makes me feel powerful and exotic and luscious, like everything else this evening has brought with it. In the mirror of the ladies room I see that my eyes are shining and my cheeks are flushed. The dress makes my skin look rosy gold. Little bits of hair have fallen down around my neck, but they look pretty.
As I wash my hands a matronly woman in a swirly purple dress comes out of a stall and pumps soap into her hands, smiling into the mirror. "None of us can take our eyes off you, dear. I've been enjoying your delight all evening."
I hardly know what to say. "Thank you."
"I hope he deserves you."
"Oh, I hope I deserve him," I say.
She touches my arm on her way out, and I look back at myself in the mirror. And maybe for the first time ever there's nothing I want to change about this hour of my life. Except maybe my shoes.
As I walk back through the restaurant I'm aware that I'm blushing a little. I notice the lady in purple, and she winks at me. But mostly it's Tyler's eyes, burning into me so hungry and wild, that pull me across the room and float me into the chair next to him. He leans in, and slides his hand along the back of my neck and kisses me. It's not long. It's not inappropriate.
But as our lips meet our eyes meet and our skin flashes in every cell, and I can't wait to get out of there.
* * *
Outside in the night, we walk toward the garage holding hands. A breeze scoots up my dress, lifting the hem a little, and I laugh, catching it before it can show everything to the world.
Tyler swings me in a circle and sweeps me into his arms, pressing his body against me, looking around to see if anyone's nearby, then bends in to kiss me. I fling my arms around his neck, pressing my aching body into his hard, long shape. One of his hands slides down over the slippery fabric covering my bottom and he rubs the silk over my naked butt. "God, that's so hot. I loved imagining you bare under this dress and no one else knowing. They would have died, those old guys, if they'd known."
Voices reach us and Tyler takes my hand, pulling me along toward a small park. It's dark and I'm worried it could be dangerous, but he tugs me into the shadows beneath a tree. A creek runs by, loud and cool. He pulls me into him. "I told you there would be rewards."
"I think I've had plenty of rewards."
His smile is slow as he pulls the dress up in the back, holding my gaze with his, until his hands are on the bare skin on the backs of my legs, then cupping my bottom. The air from the creek is cool and exhilarating.
He holds me and starts to kiss me, slowly, deeply, as if he has a million years to do it. My skin gets hotter and hotter as his hands keep moving on my legs, dipping between, sliding away, and then he's on his knees, pushing up my dress so that he can put his mouth-
"Oh!" I lean against the tree behind me, spreading my legs a little, enough to let his hot tongue and long fingers do their magic. My legs are trembling, and every so often I think I hear a voice, but when my eyes fly open there's only the park, the darkness, the water, and my body is starting to pulse, ready to come.
He stops.
"What?" My voice doesn't even sound like my voice.
"Let's walk a little way." He takes my hand, starts to pull me.
I yank back. "Are you crazy? I'm about to explode."
He reaches for my other hand and presses it over his cock. "Me, too. It'll be more fun to wait."
"Will it?" I'm mainly feeling irritated, and then he kisses me, sliding his hot tongue into my mouth, hard. I taste myself, and it's startling and strange and I want to claw him. I bite his lip a little, and he laughs.
We leave the park and walk through town, swinging our hands between us. He looks completely nonchalant. After a block or two I'm feeling less irritable. We turn down a side street and I realize we're close to the Musical Spoon, maybe three blocks away, but instead of walking in that direction, he tugs me into a dark, recessed doorway and starts kissing me again, holding me against him, his body pressing hard into mine. His hands are on the back of the dress and he's unzipped it half way before I realize what he's doing. "Tyler, stop. This is embarrassing."
"I will if you want me to," he says, sucking my earlobe into his mouth. I didn't even know I liked that, but it practically buckles my knees, especially when I feel the air touch my breasts as he slides the dress down just enough and flicks his thumbs over the aching tips. I make an animal noise and haul him closer, tugging at his zipper until his cock is leaping in my hand.
"Whoa," says a raspy voice. "Sorry. Thought this was my doorway."
It's like cold water splashed over us. Tyler and I freeze, but the drunk is already wandering on. "Let's go to my place," he says.
"Yes, please."
He zips me up, tucking everything back into place, zips himself. Takes a breath and pushes my hair away from my face and kisses me very gently. "It's not just sex, Jess."
I look up at him. "It is right now."
Laughing, he lets me go and we hurry back to the car. I'm so aroused I can barely stand the weight of the dress on my body, the press of the seat on my legs. It's new for me to feel this...urgency, this sense that I'll explode if I don't get some relief, but he doesn't look as agitated as I feel.
As he's headed for Manitou he nonchalantly turns on the radio and starts singing along.
"Why am I the one who's all hot and bothered?" I ask irritably.
He laughs. "I'm bothered. Trust me."
That irritation is welling up through me, though, and I say, "Really?" I lift the skirt and slide down a little bit so that the passing street lights flash on my nakedness. "How about now?"
He swerves violently, then straightens the car. "Whew." He blows out, his cheeks hot. "I do have to drive."
I shrug, flip the skirts back down. "Okay. Whatever you say."
"No, I can do it."
"No touching."
By the time we get to his place I'm very sure he's as insanely aroused as I am. We make it into the house before the dress is shoved up around my hips and he's out and plunging into me as I'm backed against the wall, and two seconds after that I'm having the biggest freaking orgasm of my life, something that explodes in my knees and my throat and my feet, shimmering and shivering all through me, and then he's following me with pounding harsh thrusts that slam me against the wall and letting go of a yell, his hands digging into my ass. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he says, and we hang there for what seems like eternity, lost in pleasure, in each other, in sex.
I fall on his shoulder. "I had no idea it could even be anything like that."
He bites my neck and says raggedly, "Me, either."
He carries me into the bedroom, strips off the dress completely and we do it again.