John arrived 15 minutes late to dinner. Rasha was already seated, looking uncomfortable.
She got up from her chair as John approached. He gave her a kiss on the cheek. She sat back down and crossed her arms, sullenly.
“Sorry, I got held up at work. How are you?” he asked.
“Fine,” she said without enthusiasm.
John looked down at his menu. After a quick skim, he suggested Rasha order for both of them.
“Do you like your food spicy?” she asked, a wicked look in her eyes.
“I can stomach medium,” he said.
The service was slow, but the sounds of a dining room full of patrons gave the restaurant a good vibe. The atmosphere between them thawed with the meal and a few drinks, however John didn’t really want to be here.
Barbara had been on his mind all day. As soon as John had opened his eyes that morning, he smiled and reminisced about the events of the night before. Throughout his day, moments of the previous night came back to him eliciting butterflies. Now he foundhimself at dinner with the wrong woman.
“I’d like to travel,” said Rasha, telling him about her plans. “France and Italy are the first places I will go when I have enough money.”
“Both countries have amazing food,” said John.
“I know,” said Rasha enthusiastically. “I will eat my way through them.”
“That sounds like a plan.”
“Have you been there?” asked Rasha.
“Yeah, both places are great and I’d definitely like to spend more time in Europe.”
“Maybe we can go together,” Rasha suggested.
John contemplated it for a second and then internally baulked at the thought. “Where else have you travelled to?” he asked.
“I’ve never been anywhere except Brazil, Argentina and America.”
The conversation meandered on through work and life: whether or not Rasha should ask for a raise, how much oil, butter, and cream was in the food at Balthazar, movies Rasha was interested in seeing and her plans to study after she’d travelled. They were soon chatting more intimately again and as the night went on, John was increasingly more social and relaxed.
The potential dilemma occurred to John while Rasha pushed her food around with a fork and talked about life in Brazil.
Should I invite her back?
What about Barbara?
She might not even be interested in me.
She kissed me for God’s sake.
I don’t want Rasha staying the night and keeping me awake.
But what about Ray? Is Barbara going to go out on a date with him as well?
There’s nothing certain about Barbara: she may be neurotic underneath her cool exterior or she may like Ray more.
After meeting Barbara yesterday and Rasha’s snoring a week ago, John would never have guessed he would ever want to sleep with Rasha again. But she was sexy, he was tired, she was here, and work was shitty.
As soon as it became apparent she had finished her meal, John pulled three 20s out of his wallet and gave them to the waitress before she had a chance to take their plates or even grab the check. Then, without warning, John suggested Rasha come back to his place for a drink. His underlying intention was obvious.
“Maybe. But we need to talk first.”
He’d just assumed she’d say yes. John braced himself for a where is this going discussion.
“Are you dating anyone else?” There was determination in her voice.
Hadn’t they been over this? “I swear I’m not dating anyone else.” She didn’t look convinced, but it was the truth—technically speaking. “How about we go back to my place? We can talk more privately there.”
“Maybe.”
John really just wanted to get naked and was growing impatient. He was tired. She must be as well. The last thing he wanted was to talk about this.
“You made me feel disappointed last time. I’m not interested in having sex with my man if he doesn’t sleep with me.”
John’s ears pricked up at “my man.” Fuck, does she think we’re exclusive?
The waitress came back with his change and cleared the table, giving him some reprieve. It was like all of his nightmares were coming true. This sexy woman wanted a commitment that he couldn’t make. Wouldn’t, he corrected himself. They’d just met and he was definitely going to see where things went with Barbara.
After a silent standoff, looking deeply into each other’s eyes, neither game to blink, John spoke, choosing his words carefully. “Sleep is really important to me at the moment. Besides, last time was a one off given your blocked nose, right?”
John saw Rasha fidget whilst searching for something to say. “I need to know that you are serious if we are going to be having sex,” she said it as a question as much as a statement.
“I told you, I’m not dating anyone else.”
Rasha stared at him, trying to decide if he was telling the truth. John couldn’t help but look away. He knew she wanted a more definitive answer, but he didn’t have one—especially after last night. He tried to process what she was saying. How could he balance having just met Barbara and his hopes as to where that may go against his libido, which was kicking in?
A bird in the hand …
“What are you chuckling at,” asked Rasha.
“Oh I just thought of a phrase, a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.”
“What does it mean?” asked Rasha.
“I don’t actually know. That was what I was laughing about. I use it all the time at work.”
Rasha laughed along.
“Let’s talk outside,” he suggested and chaperoned her out.
On the street, John put his suit jacket on, wrapped his arms around her in a warm embrace and kissed her forehead.
“So what do you need to get a decent night’s sleep?”
“A woman needs to be held. And you know, if you hold us, maybe you will get more.” Rasha’s grin turned into a wide smile.
John tried to comprehend what she was saying—but wasn’t sure, desperate to get her home. “Okay, let’s try that,” he said and pulled her tight again.
“No, let’s do that,” Rasha said, pushing her point home.
They got into the first cab they saw and headed for John’s place. He was relieved he hadn’t had to answer the exclusivity question with a point blank lie. He already felt a guilty. And his ego was a little bruised. Does she think I am no good in the sack?
When they got to his apartment, Rasha went straight to the bathroom. John turned off the main light in his bedroom and switched on a black-shaded lamp to give the room some ambiance. He pulled the duvet off the bed, leaving the king-sized bed bare except for the sheets and two pillows.
Should he undress? John felt full after dinner, which swayed his decision to keep his clothes on—for the time being anyway. He wasn’t normally conscious of his weight, but with more and more rich dinners each week, he realized his girth wasn’t getting smaller.
John lay down on the bed to wait, suddenly feeling the few drinks he’d had after a long day.
What about Barbara? He banished the thought.
Rasha emerged. John stood to greet her. She walked over smiling and they embraced, kissing passionately. He felt electricity again, but this time it was different. John immediately felt Rasha’s force—she was drinking him as her tongue explored his mouth, dissolving into him and opening him up at the same time. She pushed forward, and they fell onto his bed. As she lay on him, he could feel her energy and his swelling bulge, pressing against her. She ground her hips into him, excited at what was to come.
There was chemistry here, which was even better than before. As they kissed and feverishly groped each other, John moved into the 69 position, but Rasha would have none of it.
“No, I don’t want you down there,” she stated emphatically.
What?
He turned around, moving into the missionary position and after a moment’s hesitation, proceeded to enter her. As soon as he started grinding away, he was lost in pleasure.
He was soon working frantically. When Rasha’s back arched, John knew she was close. He thrust harder and faster.
God, she feels good.
A few thrusts later and Rasha moaned loudly, coming.
He hadn’t climaxed yet, but he collapsed on top of her, needing to take the weight off his arms for a minute. It had taken some effort holding himself up.
“Get off. Get off me!” Her tone was loud, insistent and forceful.
John jumped up, shocked and confused, instantly going into fight-or-flight mode. But a second ago she was in ecstasy?
Rasha’s face was scrunched up, and she was covering her eyes with one hand, the other on her forehead.
“Are you all right?” John asked softly.
Rasha didn’t answer.
John was worried. He hadn’t experienced anything like this before.
After a minute, which felt like an hour, he prompted her again. “Hey, what’s going on?” His tone was still soft, but there was a trace of panic in his voice.
Sounding almost aggressive, she said, “Have you never seen a woman orgasm before?” Her hands still covered her eyes.
John shivered. There’s something really wrong here.
Rasha continued to lie there, still and quiet. The silence was deafening.
Panic injected itself into John. He found his underwear on the floor and threw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.
Rasha got up and started dressing as well. The awkwardness of the situation was overwhelming.
John escaped to the living room and sat on the arm of his big leather sofa, waiting.
She emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later and leaned against the kitchen bench, near him. John watched her cautiously and she stared at the floor, neither of them saying a word. “Well, this is strange,” he eventually conceded.
She still said nothing.
“Okay, well …” John nervously tried to think of something funny to say to help lighten the mood. Nothing came.
She looked away.
“Let’s end the night here and both get a good sleep,” he said after what seemed like an eternity. He stood up and walked her to the door, trying to think how to leave the night on a more positive note. The whole thing was just so out of the ordinary that he was still on edge. He opened the door for her. She walked through without making eye contact. Neither said goodbye.
He watched her till she was gone and then closed the door.
He went back into the living area, turned off the lights, went straight to bed and closed his eyes. His thoughts flooded him. What the hell just happened? Never in my life has someone reacted like that. There’s no way she can cry rape. The feeling had just jumped into his and body head—and it alarmed him. In an instant it occurred to him his career would be over and Barbara would be history if he were accused of something like that. John wondered if he’d ever hear from her again. He hoped not.
He twisted and turned for hours.
And what’s her problem with oral sex? Not only did he love it; he had no problem going down on a woman.
John felt nervous in the pit of his stomach as electricity ran through him. He’d made a mistake, giving in to his primal urge, but he’d treated her well, not deserving it to blow up in his face like this.
A night later, John and Mac were having burgers and beers at a sports bar in NoLita. Every chair and stool was filled with patrons. Thursday was cheap burger and Guinness night. A moose head and old photos littered the exposed brick walls. They sat on stools at a worn wooden table, wedged against brick and a window that went almost to the ceiling, iron bars protecting it from the street. The crowd was local, but decent. Not so rowdy that they couldn’t talk in peace.
John shared the events from the previous evening.
His friend looked slightly creeped out. “She sounds like a complete nutter.”
“Yeah,” John said. “It was bizarre.”
“Have you heard from her since?”
“No, but every time my phone rings my heart skips a beat. I was afraid she was going to cry rape.”
“No message to report to the police station?” Mac raised an eyebrow and grinned at John’s expense.
“Nope,” John muttered. “But the sex was good. It’s a shame not to be able to sleep with her again.”
“She’s a woman,” Mac said. “There’s plenty more out there.”
“Actually, I met a great bird the other night at a charity function.”
“Well why didn’t you take her home last night?”
“I would’ve if I could’ve but it wasn’t an option.”
A waitress walked past and John held up two fingers, gesturing for the waitress to bring them more beers.
“So is she hot?” asked Mac.
“Well she’s not one of your super-models, but she blew me away.”
“Mmm. Don’t get too attached dude, you may have to do a stint in jail first,” Mac joked.
“Don’t remind me. Anyway, we haven’t even had a first date yet. What about you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Dating anyone at the moment?” Like most eligible bachelors in New York, Mac was never just dating one person at a time.
He preened a little. “A few. There is one interesting chick.”
John raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Yeah? Who?”
“She’s a yoga instructor. Has a studio in the East Village.”
John grinned. “So what’s Tantric sex like?”
“I’m looking forward to finding out.” Mac smiled suggestively.
“You haven’t slept with her yet?”
“Of course I have.”
“She all right?”
“Mind-blowing.”
“So you’re dating?” John asked.
Mac shrugged. “We’ve been out four times. So far, so good.”