186 Miles (5 page)

“Do
you not
want
me in here?”

“I
do.”  I paused.  “I just wasn’t sure.”

He
closed the gap between us.  “I want to be in
here
with you.  I don’t
want to sleep in there.”

I
turned towards the dresser.  He came up behind me and placed his hands lightly
on my shoulders.  He dipped down and traced the outline of my tattoo with his
tongue, pressing feather light kisses on my back as he went.

Jesus
Christ.

“Come
to bed, Rachel.  Don’t over think this.”

I
turned towards him and pressed into his chest.  I could hear his heartbeat.  I
broke the embrace and climbed into my side of the bed.

He
continued to take things out of his bag and made small talk.  He shrugged out
of his shirt.  He was thin, but strong looking.  I wondered if he worked out. 
He never said; I never asked.

When
he started to unbutton his pants, I looked down nervously and began pushing at
my cuticles.

“Don’t
get shy, lady.”  He grinned and folded his pants.  Thankfully, he was wearing
underwear.

He
grabbed a pair of drawstring pants from his bag and strolled into the
bathroom.  He closed the door behind him.

Oh
Lord, oh Lord, oh Lord.  Were we going to do this?

Not
tonight.

Not
tonight.

Not
tonight.

I
knew I had to stand my ground.  We could kiss.  That’s
it
.  I may even
let him get to second base.  I had to put down limits.

He
walked out of the bathroom and threw something in his bag.  His underwear? 

Fuck.

He
slid into bed next to me.  I turned to the center of the bed, facing him.

“I
don’t know if I’m ready for this, Vince.”

“What? 
Bed?”  He was smiling.

“You
know what. 
This
.”  I gestured between us.

“Alright. 
Whatever you want.  I’m not going to push you.”

I
put my hand on his hip and leaned in to kiss him.  He angled towards me and put
his arm around my waist, pulling me closer.

I
pressed my lips to his and parted them.  The kiss deepened.  He put his hand on
my backside and pushed in, our hips adjoining. 

I
was seriously close to losing this battle.

He
pulled up on the hem of my nightie.  His hand trailed up my back.  I moved my hand
to his hip.  He rolled me to my back and moved his hand to my waist, just
skimming the elastic of my underwear.  His finger lifted the lip of satin.

“No.” 
I sat up.  “I want to, but...”

“You
can’t.”  He pulled away from me and shifted the covers, straightening them. 
“It’s fine, Rachel, really.  I understand.”  He turned the light off on the nightstand. 
“Goodnight, mama.”  He kissed me one last time before he turned and faced the
wall.

I
lie awake, staring at his back for what seemed like hours.  His skin was smooth
and ivory with tiny freckles throughout.  It took everything I had not to trace
them with my fingertips.  My eyes were growing heavy and, eventually, I drifted
off to sleep.

I
woke to Vince’s lips on my back.  His hand was on the outside of my thigh,
moving up gently.  He whispered in my ear.  “Good morning.”

He
pulled gently at the elastic on my underwear and slid two fingers into the
material.  I turned to face him.  His eyes were steady, questioning.  I put my
hands to his waist and tugged at his drawstring.

He
leaned in and brushed his lips against mine.  Just once.  He slid down the side
of my neck and laid soft, wet kisses there.

Oh
my God, we were really doing this.

His
hand continued to tug bit by bit at the band of satin.  I lifted my hip off of
the bed, helping.  He pulled harder and the fabric slid down my legs easily.  I
kicked them to the floor.

Oh
yeah, we were doing this.

He
brushed his hand across my breast.  My breath caught.  He leaned in and put his
lips to the material, his left hand moving to the hem of my gown.  He lifted it
up as I raised my arms.  It joined my underwear on the side of the bed.

I
placed my right hand just inside of the band of his pants.  The skin on his hip
was warm and soft.  He turned briefly onto his back and pulled them off in one
quick movement. 

Oh.
My. God. He. Is. Huge. Never. Gonna. Fit.

He
wrapped his arms around me and pulled me on top of him.  I was insecure.  I
felt like, from this angle, all of my fat was on display.  He traced the small,
red heart on my hip.  “Another tattoo?  Fuck.”

He
flipped me onto my back and lowered his head to my ink, running his tongue over
it.

Is
internal combustion real?

He
shifted me to the middle of the bed.  His left arm was wound tightly around my
back.  His right hand moved between my legs.  He pushed one finger inside.  I bowed
my back.  “Oh, God.”  He added another finger.

“You’re
so wet.”

Holy
shit!  Did he just say that?

He
supported himself on his elbow and looked at me.  Playful Vince was gone.  His
fingers still stirred inside of me, but the pace was now slow and easy.  “Are
you sure about this?  Tell me now.  We can stop anytime.”

“Yes.” 
I
meant
it.

“Do
you have condoms?”

“Nightstand.” 

Oh
God, Ryan’s condoms.  Ryan’s nightstand.

No,
Rachel.  You WILL NOT RUIN THIS.

He
released me and dug in the drawer, producing a three pack.  He pulled one from
the perforated set and made quick work of sliding it on.  He turned back to me
and slid his hands up my sides.

“Last
chance...”

“I’m
ready.” 
I was
.

He
situated his body on top of mine.  “Is this alright?”  He was worried about
me.  His face was filled with questions.

“Yes,
Vince.  For Christ’s sake, put it in!”  I tried to lighten the mood.  It
worked.

He
slowly pushed inside of me, taking his time. 
Oh God, oh God. 
 He
focused on me.  He touched my face, kissed my neck.  He put his hands, not as
gently this time, on my breasts.  He whispered in my ear.

Normally,
I wasn’t a big fan of the breezy talk during sex, but Vince made it an art.

God,
you feel amazing.

You’re
so fucking hot.

I
could stay inside of you forever.

I’ve
wanted you for so long.

He
turned me over so that I was on top of him.  Not
this
again.
   Would
it be weird if I put my gown back on? 
 

“I
want to look at you.  I want to see you come.”

Jesus
Christ.  Ryan never talked to me this way. 

Stop
thinking about Ryan.

I
moved against him. 
God, he felt good.
  He was experienced.  He made me
feel sexy.  Wanted.  Needed.  I
needed
this.

He
brushed his thumb against my clitoris.  I came.  Just like
that
.  No
warning.  It just happened.  Worst part?  I
screamed
.  Yep, like I was
the victim in a horror movie.

Second
worst part?  Vince
liked
it.  Like
a lot
.  Within seconds, he
released inside of me, calling out my name.

I
was mortified.  There’s
no way
that Vince had ever been with a girl that
screamed.  Not like
that
.  Screams of passion were acceptable.  Just
fucking
screaming
?  Unacceptable.  And probably weird.

He
rolled me onto my back.  “Jesus, woman.  You almost killed me.”  He laughed and
covered his face with his hands.

“I’m
sorry.  I was just surprised, I guess.”  It was official. 
I was an idiot.

“Are
you fucking kidding me?  What are you sorry about?  I don’t think I’ve
ever
had that reaction before.” 

Yep,
just as I suspected.  Unacceptable and weird.

I
sat up and fumbled around for my gown.  Vince wrapped his arms around my waist
and pulled me back in.  “Are you
embarrassed
?”

“That’s
never happened to me before.”

“Yeah,
I guessed.”  He laughed.  “Don’t be embarrassed. 
Seriously
.  If we do
that again and you
don’t
scream, I’m going to be disappointed.”

He
sat up and pulled off the condom, wrapping it in a tissue and tossing it into
the bin on the side of the bed.  He reached for his drawstring pants, tugging
them on.

He
swatted me on the backside.  “Coffee, woman.  Let’s go.”

“Meet
you in a minute.”  I hurried into the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror
for a few seconds.  I was flushed, my cheeks still hot with humiliation.

I
could feel tears coming.  I was guilty.  I had just slept with a man that was
not
my husband.

*

I
joined Vince in the kitchen a few minutes later.  He was sitting at the table,
his elbows propped up.  He was drinking out of a cup that read “Flirty at 30.” 
Carrie bought it for me that year for my birthday.

“Hi.”

“Hey,”
I responded.  I busied myself.  Picked out the right sized cup, opened and
closed doors; anything to avoid him.

He
walked up behind me, dropping his chin to my shoulder.  “You okay?”

“Yeah.” 
I turned around and gave him a shaky smile.

“Hey.” 
He took my chin and tipped it up, forced to connect.  “Have you been
crying
?”

“I’m
fine.”

“I
didn’t ask if you were
fine
.  I asked if you’d been crying.”

I
shrugged my shoulders.  “I’m just having a bad day.” 

“A
bad
day
?  We just woke up and made love.  We’ve done
nothing
else.” 
He paused.  “So you’re telling me that you
regret
being together?”  He
looked confused.

I
couldn’t answer.  I wasn’t sure.

“We
fucked
and used my husband’s condoms,” I blurted.

“Are
you serious?  First of all, don’t say that we
fucked
.  You know that’s
not what that was.  And I’ll go buy my own fucking condoms.  That’s a
ridiculous reason to be crying.  It’s something else.”  His tone was terse.

I
poured my coffee and walked past him, taking a seat on the couch.

“Do
you want me to
go
?”

“No.” 
Please don’t go.  I’m just freaking out.

“Then
talk
to me.  What’s the
real
problem?”  He slid in next to me. 
Too
close.
  He fiddled with a piece of my hair.

“I’m
just being a weirdo.  I just haven’t been with anyone else really, so…”

“Well,
I assumed so.  I met you a day before the funeral, so I figured it was a safe
bet.”  He smiled and brushed his thumb across my eyebrow.

“No,
I mean like besides Ryan, I’ve only been with one other guy before him.  So, I
guess I freaked out a little bit.  It felt like I was cheating.”

“Alright.” 
He encircled me with his arms and pulled me tight.  “I got it.”

I
broke from his grasp and stood.  “I’m going to take a shower, I think.”

“Rachel.” 

I
turned.

“I
talked to a guy about a job here.”

My
body froze.  “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve
just been looking in the last week.  A really good opportunity came up.  It’s
at a studio downtown.  The pay isn’t that different than what I make in Chicago
and the rent would be cheaper here.  I’m not looking to move in with you.”  He
chose his words carefully.  “I just want to be near you.  I
love
you.”

My
voice was coarse.  “You don’t love me.”

He
stood.  “Yes… I
do
.”  His face was genuine.

I
turned and headed up the stairs.  I couldn’t manage this.  I didn’t
want
to.

*

I
turned on the shower.  I needed distance.  Time.

He
loved me?  Was he insane?

I
wanted the water to wash my guilt away.  It wasn’t working.

When
I made my way back into the bedroom, Vince was there.  He was sitting on the
edge of the bed.

“Baby,
please, talk to me.”

I
turned to the dresser and picked out a lingerie set.  “I don’t have anything to
say.”  I turned on my heel to face him.  “No, actually, that’s not true.  Why
are you
doing
this?  Why do you want to move here?  Why did you say you
loved
me?”

“Because
I
do
love you!  I can’t fucking think about anything else.  I spend my
entire week waiting.  Every day, all day, I wait.  I can’t get anything done. 
I don’t want to live in that apartment with that fucking asshole.  I want to
live
here
.  With
you
.”  His voice softened at the end of his rant.

He
rose to his feet and placed his left hand behind my neck, his right on my lower
back.  He pressed his lips against mine.  It was gentle, slow.  After a few
seconds, his lips became rougher, more desperate.  I felt his tongue, his
teeth,
everything
. 

He
pulled at my towel.  It pooled to the floor.

Oh
God, oh God, oh God.  Seriously?

I
practically
climbed
him.  He turned me around towards the bed and gently
deposited me in the center.  He pulled his t-shirt over his head in one
accelerated movement and tugged at his loose pants, yanking them down.

He
was perfect.

He
climbed into the bed, sliding on top of me.  He cupped my face with his hands. 
“I love you.”