“Yeah?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say, walking over to him and taking a hold of his waist. “And it’s a good thing. Really.” Vulnerable David is here, and I’m not sure how to feel about him.
I decide to change the subject. “I want to eat something. I’m starving. Wanna spend some of that dough you got on a pizza for your girl?”
“Of course,” he says, planting a quick, chaste kiss on my mouth and pulling his phone from his back pocket.
* * *
After the pizza delivery guy comes, we sit at the table and eat. I tell David about the articles I found online regarding the case against TruTimber Imports and Michael’s death, sharing with him all the details discussed in the stories. But he seems the most surprised when I tell him about my phone call with Ricky. He can’t believe I actually called him. He seems almost angry about it, and he chides me for making the call when he wasn’t around. Vulnerable David has vanished and protective David is back. I try my best to assure him that the conversation was brief and that Ricky was nothing more than his usual asshole self.
David surprises me by telling me that he will drive me the six hours to go to the funeral on Friday if I want. Fuck that. I tell him the same thing I told Ricky: “There is no fucking way that’s happening.” He chuckles and tells me he only brought it up because he thought that going might provide me with some closure.
“The kind of closure that comes from a funeral is for pathetic fools,” I say sharply. His face immediately stills—I can’t believe how angry the words sound coming out of my mouth. Especially since what happened at my mother’s funeral was the one of the brightest moments of my adult life. “Just knowing that the motherfucker is dead is closure enough for me.”
“Okay,” he says, chastised. “I get it. I won’t mention it again.” He stands, carrying the plates into the kitchen and tossing the pizza box into the trash can on his way back out. I regret pouncing on him, and I wish I could take it back. I am deciding how to apologize when he comes back to the table and stands behind me. His fingers work their way down to the pendant suspended between my breasts. As he touches the raven, his other hand sweeps my hair to the side, and he lowers his face to the back of my neck. His mouth is warm as his lips and tongue slide across the skin at my nape. I feel a shiver move across my body.
“I know you’re only trying to help.” I say in apology. “I’m just not used to being helped, that’s all. I don’t know how to behave.”
“I’ll tell you how to behave,” he says softly, his lips still against my neck and his voice full of innuendo.
I smile. “Only if I get an indescribable benefit in return,” I say.
“Done.”
I try to keep my balance as he pulls my chair back, away from the table. He walks around to the front and faces me. His hands rest on my shoulders as he sits down, straddling my lap. I smile playfully at him and grunt as if he is too heavy.
He lifts his shirt up over his head, dropping it on to the floor, and says, “I’m not that heavy, am I?”
I shake my head, wrap my arms around his waist and thread my fingers together at the base of his spine. He clasps my jaw and kisses me. As our mouths meet, I feel myself slip into him. It’s like my whole body is dissolving into his. Like we are one person, alone and charged with electricity.
There is a bundle of something caught up in my chest, making it hard for me to breathe. Maybe it’s anticipation. Maybe it’s need. Or lust. Whatever it is, I don’t want to snuff it out. I don’t want it to end. It is making me feel heady. I wonder if it is love. Or hope. And I wonder if David knows it’s there. If he feels it, too.
I untangle my fingers and slide them into the waistband of his jeans, moving around the front to open his button and zipper. And then I am touching him, rubbing my hands up and down over him, feeling his need. When I tighten my grip, he takes his mouth off mine and looks at me, watching my face as I touch him, pushing his hips upwards into my fist. I listen to him breathe, and he is calm and quiet. Like he was this morning, when he was sleeping. I want to hear his breath stutter with need, and so I let him go and push him off my lap. I tug his jeans down over his hips, and when he kicks them off, I pull him back toward me. I drop off the chair and on to my knees. I kiss his stomach and his hips, letting my tongue skim across his skin. I lick and suck him, sending him to the back of my throat over and over again. My hands move slowly from the back of his knees up to his behind, and I push his hips forward. I push him into my mouth, deeper and faster until I hear his breath skitter. He tells me to stop before he comes, and then he backs away from me, dropping out of my mouth and looking down at me.