Cruise makes love to me in a bed of snow with those tender groans that wrench from him with an aching passion. He blesses me with a kiss, soft and careful as his tongue strokes over mine. Cruise satiates me from the inside out with a pull of dizzying affection. I memorize his touch, take in his scent, fill my ears with every errant sound that emanates from his throat. Everything about Cruise makes me greedy for more. He covers me with his body and buries himself inside me in the most intimate way.
This is all I want.
Forever.
The next week, after Gender Relations, Cruise said there is someplace special he wants to take me.
Cruise holds my hand as we walk boldly through campus. I’m still hopped up on our newly engaged status. We’ve spent every night tangled in one another’s arms, locked in the bliss of what the future holds for us.
A parade of bicycles clutter the walkways. They speed by as if this were a busy New York sidewalk—the Tour De France taking place right here at Garrison.
He pauses just shy of a tall brick building. His gaze rides to the top, then to me. There’s a mischievous look in his eye that suggests the architectural erection standing in front of us has something to do with his special locale.
“If this involves repelling, you can count me out.” No use placating him with false hope. I’d just as soon leap from a building as I would eat a bowl of greasy worms.
“No repelling. I promise.” Cruise brings my hand to his lips and presses in a kiss that warms me down to my toes.
My mouth opens to say something, but a blonde in a red coat catches my eye off in the distance. It’s Blair from art, which reminds me, I meant to ask her if she’d be open to trapping Cal. Lauren has been after me every chance she gets, even though I’ve assured her I won’t be hitting on another guy anytime soon. Not when I have Cruise.
He reels me in and we duck into a narrow door through the back. It’s dark inside. The stench of mildew and rust lights up my senses.
“Welcome to the tower, Kenny,” he says, nodding over to a stairwell that leads dozens of stories to the top of Garrison’s most prized phallic symbol.
“This will take hours.” I’m quick to point out. Plus, this is one vertigo-inspired workout I’m not looking forward to.
He pushes a button behind me, and an elevator door silently opens.
“Clever,” I say, more than slightly relieved. “My feet appreciate the reprieve.”
We climb in and ride to the top at gravity defying speeds. Cruise makes himself at home, nibbling on my earlobe with his hot, hungry mouth.
The doors open to an iced bite of wind, and that revised syllabus comes flooding back to me. Number ten, the grand finale—the tower.
“Oh God,” it comes out frail.
“I got you,” he whispers with a devious smile.
Cruise leads us outside to the giant globe that floats over campus like an insignia. The graphite sky looms above. Burnt grey clouds bow so close you could touch them. I half-expect the finger of God to reach out like a fresco come to life.
I catch a glimpse down at the tiny people shuffling around campus. The landscape zooms in and out as I sway on my feet.
“Don’t be afraid,” he says, steadying me. He pulls me gently into the metal frame of the sphere with the utmost care. Cruise wants this. This is the piece de resistance of his orgasmic outline, the one he drew up for my eyes only.
I give a naughty grin as I drop to my knees and peel open his jeans. He clasps his hand over mine and kneels beside me.
“Kenny, you’re a work of beauty. You know that?”
“No, I don’t know that,” I whisper as the color rises to my cheeks. “But I’m damn glad you think so.”
Cruise scoops my face in his palms, kissing me full on the lips with the fire from his mouth.
The wind slices through the gap between our bodies as if it were trying to keep us apart, push us over the edge—trade in our love for tragedy. But Cruise lays me down, holding me steady with the weight of his affection. He hovers over me with a wicked grin, taking me in, soaking up the experience as if this were the sum total of all he ever wanted. He runs his hands inside my sweater and frees me from my bra with the dexterity of a magician. He bows into my neck with steamed kisses before creating a trail down my chest, slow and steady as if the world and everything in it were ours. We had a million years to love one another, wherever we pleased—whenever.
Cruise maneuvers me free from my jeans, pulls down his boxers, and his love for me dives into the open. His warm body rides over mine, teasing me with barely-there kisses. He kneads his hands into my hips, rolling me into him until I’m panting for what he’s about to offer. I reach down and guide him in, soft and easy until my body arches to meet his, and I take in a breath. Cruise pulsates in and out as we create a soothing rhythm. He lands his lips over mine; they drift to my ear, my neck, quick as lightning. Cruise bites and licks, moans and calls my name until we’re lost in that beautiful oblivion built just for the two of us. My lids flutter. The clouds rotate dressed in navy and black while the wind sears us with its wrath. With Cruise, I no longer fear the heights the world has to offer. Now I would crave them. With Cruise, I no longer wonder what it would be like to be loved. Now I’ll know forever.