Dirty Promise(4)

He's more than willing to oblige. It's as though he has an endless  supply of energy, because before I know it, he's pounding away at me  again, keeping a steady, furious pace that no human man could keep for  such a long time. It's that constant rhythm that allows me a third  orgasm. Though not as intense as the first two, it's just as satisfying.  This time when I come, so does he. I feel him tense up. His hands  clutch my hips as though he's afraid I'll try to escape, and he bites  down on my shoulder and lets out a low, animalistic sound as he shoots  his load.

I look over my shoulder and watch him as he pulls out, only half-hard  now but still hung like a giant, and takes off the condom. His body  shimmers with sweat, every muscle wound tight like a body builder after a  workout. He stares at me too, giving me lingering, confusing looks. I'm  instantly self-conscious again. We share a towel and he sits on the  couch beside me, hands behind his head. I'm not sure what to do, but I  assume leaving is probably the answer since he was squeezing me in  between clients and I don't want to overstay my welcome and make things  weird. I can't imagine a scenario more awkward than getting kicked out  of some guy's apartment after sex. I am not about that.

I get up and start to put my clothes back on.

"You're going to have sex and leave?" he says.

Where the hell is my bra? I search the room. Eventually I find it slung over the back of a chair.

"That's how these things go, don't they?"

"I feel so cheap," he says in a playful tone.

I continue to put my clothes on.

"Stay," he says, more serious now. "Talk to me for a minute."

I turn to look at him. His cheeks are flushed from exertion and there's a beautiful after-sex glow about him.

He thinks I'm basic, and this was just a tick off Kia's bucket list. I  should get up and walk out and move on to envelope two, but, against all  the little alarms going off in my head, I might not want to leave. I  stay anyway. Curling up next to him, I look at the ceiling.

"After sex, I usually like to learn a girl's name," he says.

"Oh, is that how that usually goes?" I say.

I fight the urge to laugh. I can't believe I just had sex with a guy  without him knowing my name first. Kia has really taken me above and  beyond my comfort zone.

"So  …  this crazy bucket list. Am I the first of the many guys you'll be sleeping with?" he asks.

Is he? Kia wasn't the type of girl to fool around with a bunch of guys,  unless that was a secret dream of hers all along. I doubt it though. But  I can't even start to imagine what will come next.

"I'm not sure, but now I'll be able to open the next envelope."

He looks proud of himself. "Glad I could help."         

     



 

We're sitting there in awkward silence, both of us looking up at the  textured ceiling when he asks, "Do you mind if I ask what happened to  your friend?"

The question takes me by surprise. I'm used to the people around me  already knowing. I'd known Kia my whole life and she was always  intermittently sick. I would have to take time off work during the bad  times, so everyone at beauty school or work knew about it. I never  really got close enough to a guy to have this conversation and I'm  surprised how much it hurts to bring it up. I thought I was over this  part, but I guess not.

"She had a bad heart, a genetic disorder."

He turns to face me. I can feel him staring as if waiting for me to  break down. As much as I want to, I won't do it. I've done it a million  times, I'm all out of tears. When I think of her I try to remember the  good times so the bad don't take over.

He caresses my arm-not a move I was expecting. It's compassionate and sweet, and feels genuinely sincere. "I'm sorry."

I nod because I don't know what else to do. I wasn't expecting him to  want to talk, or to be kind when hearing about my best friend. He's  nothing like I expected. Where's that over-confident asshole I met  downstairs?

I have to go. If I don't leave now, he'll get under my skin and I'll be  stuck with the "What If's." What if he's actually a good person and only  comes off as an asshole? What if-

Stop.

I sit up and say, "I have to go."

He reaches for my arm, but I stand up before he can take it. "No round two?" he says with a lazy smile.

Round two sounds amazing, and that body  …  it's like something out of a  painting. Something sculpted by an Italian master. I could probably go  for a second round.

Nope. Not going to happen.

I get dressed. "I have things I need to do."

He laughs.

"What's funny?" I ask as I slip on my shoes.

"Ditching after a one-night stand is usually the man's move."

"Looks like I'm getting off easy."

He raises an eyebrow. "Well, you did get off pretty easy."

I smile. He's right. He knew exactly what he was doing and I loved every minute of it.

"Okay, well, bye," I say.

He opens his mouth like he might tell me not to leave again, but I'm gone before he gets a chance.





3





I take a shower when I get home and try not to think about the somewhat  irksome but entirely gorgeous man I just left behind. The hot water  rolls over my shoulders and I think about Max's hands all over me, the  way he kissed my spine, the way my entire body shook uncontrollably  after each orgasm. Damn it, I should've stayed for round two. Now I'm  turned on again.

After my shower, I throw on a robe and grab a bottle of wine and a  glass. I go back outside on my front porch and sit at the table. The sun  is setting. Kids' laughter from across the street fills the  neighborhood with happy sounds. I'm at war with my emotions at the  moment. On one hand, I'm on cloud nine after my fun time with Max, and  on the other hand, I'm sick with nervousness about what's coming next on  the bucket list. I want to just open them all at the same time and get  it over with so I know what I'm getting myself into.

But I can't cheat. I know Kia would expect me to. That's just me. I hate  surprises, but I have incredible self-control when it's needed.

Staring down at envelope two, I'm afraid to open it. What could be next?  Will each thing be bigger than the next? I'm sure there are plenty of  things more terrifying than sleeping with a stranger, but at the moment,  I can't think of anything.

I wrap my robe tighter around my shoulders and take a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

I open the next envelope and let the breath seep slowly from my lungs.



Dear Fiona,



Welcome to the next step on my bucket list. I wish I could see your face  right now. If you are reading this, it means you slept with my dream  man and probably loved every second of it. You did, didn't you? Of  course you did. I bet he has a big  …  Well, anyway. Since you took a big  step and slept with a beautiful stranger, I'm going to take it easy on  you this time. The next thing on my list is reading Pride and Prejudice  by Jane Austen. I've always wanted to read this book, but never found  the time. Sometimes a person needs to just slow down and relax with a  glass of wine and a good book.         

     



 



Love always,

-Kia



I look at the glass of wine in front of me. She knows me so well. I have  always wanted to read Pride and Prejudice-I could have sworn Kia was  the reason. For some reason, I remember her telling me I should because  she loved it so much. I guess I'm wrong. Ever since I heard about the  story, I've wanted to read it but could never find the time to sit and  have a moment to myself. I've been complaining about never having the  time for years. I guess now I don't have a choice. I'm not sure when  I'll find the time, but I will, for her.



The first thing I do when I wake up in the morning is go to the book  store. As I'm weaving through the aisles I pass a book about the history  of tattoos and think of Max. It's a really cool book, the words  embossed with gold leaf on the cover jacket. It's full of images of  tattoos around the world from traditional American to Japanese bodysuits  to Polynesian. Yesterday had been such a frenzy with him that I hadn't  taken the time to really look at his ink. His arms, legs, chest and back  were covered in tattoos. There was little left in the way of blank  skin. I found those bits of skin just as intriguing as what was covered  in ink. I want to explore it all.

I put the book back on the shelf. It's not like I'm going to see him  again, so my little fantasy of exploring his body is just that; a  fantasy. I go over to the fiction. There are so many books I want to  read. I'm tempted to buy a stack of them, but if it's taken me this long  to read just the one, I doubt I'll find the time to read an entire pile  of them. I buy the last copy of Pride and Prejudice on the shelf and  head for the park down the street.

It's a nice day to sit outside and read. The sun is out, but it's not  too hot. The breeze riles my hair and the edges of the pages of the book  flip up. Nearby is a guy throwing a frisbee. His dog is running around  off-leash, chasing it. At the far end of the park is a kiddy area that's  fenced off, far enough away as to not be distracting with the sounds of  screaming and laughter. Except I am distracted. A blended coffee sounds  great right about now. And my apartment is a mess; I should be cleaning  it instead of reading. There's guilt that comes along with doing  something for myself, something so frivolous to bring me pleasure.