I had to admit, it was a good hotdog. A very good one. Such that I wondered if Rob had laced it with something highly addictive. Heroin or nicotine, perhaps.

We finished our hotdogs and started for the curb to hail a taxi. Mostly unconsciously, I looped my hand through the crook of Neil’s elbow again. He didn’t mind.

But he did do a double take when he looked at me.

“What?” I said.

“You have some mustard on you,” he replied.

“Oh,” I said. I hoped it sounded calm. I hoped that all the blood didn’t drain from my face, even though that was what it felt like was happening.

A guy like Neil expected a woman. A lady. Not some girl who gobbled down her food so fast that she got some of it on her face.

I went stiff, as though my spine switched from bone to solid steel.

This is another reason I hate dating so much! Why can’t I just be me around these guys, rather than the girl I think they think they want?

“It’s okay,” Neil said, “I saved a tissue from the hotdogs. Hold still.”

“What...?” I started. Holding still wasn’t a problem. I was a better human statue than those guys who painted themselves silver and spent their days in the park.

He wiped the smudge of mustard away from the corner of my mouth, balled the tissue up, and tossed it into the bin by the curb.

“I could have done that myself, you know,” I said.

“I do,” he replied, “Except then we’d have to play the game of, ‘Did I get it?’ ‘Is it still there?’ ‘How about now?’ So I saved us both the time.”

Part of me wanted to argue further, even though the rest of me knew he was right. Instead, we stepped closer to the curb and he held out a hand.

Two yellow cabs broke off from the flock. The one closest to the curb arrived first and there was a brief but colorful altercation between the two drivers while they leaned out their windows and yelled at each other, arms waving the whole time.

“What is it?” Neil said.

I noticed him looking at me. The argument distracted me, and I wondered how long I’d stood on the curb.

Feeling his eyes on me like that sent warm squiggles down my back and up my stomach.

“It’s nothing. It’s silly,” I said.

“It’s enough to make you smile. Let me in on it,” Neil said.

I glanced away, then back at him. In spite of my internal protests, my smile widened. How could any woman not smile when a man like this looks at her?

“Okay,” I relented, then nodded towards the still-arguing cabbies, “It’s just, sometimes New York is totally real. Just people going on with their lives. Then other times...”

“It’s like a movie,” he finished for me.

“Yeah,” I said, “Isn’t that silly?”

“Not at all. After you,” Neil said.

And like that, he solved the fight by opening the back door of the yellow Crown Victoria closest to the curb.

He motioned for me to step in. While I did, the opposing cab driver waved two fingers, one on each hand, at us in another stereotypical New York fashion before hammering on the gas and speeding off down the street.

Neil and I shared a look and another smile at that.

It was a dangerous look and a deadly smile. In spite of my earlier thoughts on the matter, I liked being around him. I didn’t want to go back to work to finish off that analysis for Mr. Diehl.

That was the exact moment I knew I was in trouble.

It was also the moment I knew I didn’t care.

“So,” I asked, “Where are you taking me now?”

Without even really thinking about it, we sat close together, thighs touching. He was warm. Well, Neil was nothing short of hot; his thigh was warm against mine.

“I think I’ll keep you in suspense on that,” Neil said.

“Uh, pal?” The driver said, looking back over his shoulder at us through the plastic grill separating back seat from front, “You can keep her in suspense all you want, but I need to know where we’re headed.”

“Gotcha there,” I said.

Neil mimed clutching his chest again and we sniggered at that. The driver looked on, oblivious and bored.

God, look at us. Insufferable inside jokes already and we haven’t even known each other a full hour.

This is even worse than I thought.

“Central Park,” Neil said around a smile, “As close to the lake as you can get.”

The cab lurched back out into traffic, not so much taking a vacant spot but bullying one into existence. An identical yellow taxi behind us honked and flashed his lights. Our driver responded with a New York thank you, rolling his window down and waving that finger through the air a few times.

Neil and I shared that look again. Another inside joke.

I shook my head at this, “What am I going to do with you?”

“You’ll have to wait and find out about that,” he replied.

***

WEEKEND TRAFFIC WAS light. Light for Manhattan, at least. And we made pretty good time to the park.

Evening verged heavily on the city. The towers on the east side of the park cast their long shadows, while those on the western side looked splashed in gold.

There was a bit of a breeze by the lake. Enough so that the water wasn’t totally flat. The waning sunlight caught in the little peaks, giving them caps of gold as well.

Neil led us closer to the water. And when he took my hand I didn’t object, didn’t yank it back. His palm was warm and dry against mine.

I had enough time to fret about whether I had a sweaty palm. To wonder if maybe I could pull it back long enough to wipe it off on the inside of my pocket.

We sat on a bench overlooking the lake.

We weren’t the only people there, either. Another couple sat on a large rectangle of beach towel. A young kid and an old man stood on the bank of the lake, the old man pointing at a scale model remote control sailboat currently navigating the water.

“Central Park at sunset?” I said.

“Yes,” Neil said. He leaned back against the bench and let his eyes slide shut.

I caught myself wondering how soft the skin of his eyelids might feel against my lips. A dangerous thought. One that I ignored.

“It’s like an oasis in the middle of the city,” Neil continued. He opened his eyes and directed them at me, “Although I haven’t been here in a long time. Or taken anyone with me.”

The heat of a blush encroached on my throat. It crept up farther the more I met his eyes with mine. So I pulled them away, instead watching the golden ripples of the sunset on the water, “I have a bit of a confession.”

“Probably nothing you can’t absolve with half a dozen Hail Mary’s and a couple Our Fathers thrown in for luck,” he said.

I bit my lip to keep from smiling too much. When the urge went away, I released it so I could speak.

“I actually haven’t been to the park since sophomore year of college. Actually, I haven’t really seen most of the tourist-y spots in the city. That’s pretty lame, huh?”

I braced myself, waited for him to realize I wasn’t that interesting after all.

In fact, I hoped he would. Neil was the sort of trouble Suze insisted I needed in my life, and exactly the kind of trouble I knew I couldn’t have. Not if I wanted to get where I wanted to go.

“Good,” Neil said.

“Er, what?” I blurted. I looked at him, forgetting the golden ripples on the water.

“If I ever come up short on date ideas, I know now that I have a whole city full of them.” He winked at me, then gave me a nudge with his elbow.

My mouth dropped open, part out of surprise, but mostly out of mock outrage.

The jokes come so easily with him, I remarked. I didn’t want to think about what that could mean, though.

“A bit presumptuous, aren’t we?” I said, “Already figuring on future dates? We haven’t even been out an hour! We haven’t even kissed yet!”

“I can fix that second one right now,” Neil said.

He put an arm around my shoulders and leaned in. My body realized what was happening before my mind. A shock of terror and excitement raced from my heart. My eyes hooded. My lips parted slightly.

I caught a hint of his aftershave. Something earthy and pleasant. Masculine.

My breath caught in the instant before our lips touched. His lips were soft and warm against mine. Insistent, yet gentle. There was the hint of stubble. A mingled breath.

And then we parted.

I looked away again, shell-shocked this time.

I can’t believe he did that.

“But the question is, did you like it?”

I swallowed heavily, “Uh, did I just say that last bit out loud?”

“You didn’t have to,” he replied.

It was a great first kiss. Much better than pretty much any of the others I’d experienced.

This is all going too well. Way, way too well. Next he’ll turn out to be rich and famous or something.

“It was good. Nice,” I said.

“Tell me more about you,” Neil broke in.

As though he hadn’t just kissed me out of the blue right there on that bench by the lake.

He knows it threw me off guard, and now he’s trying to put me at ease again.

That was okay; I could work with that.

Stalling for time, I took out my phone to give the clock a quick check. I noticed a text from Suze. Another from Lindsay.

They were at Serendipity’s right then, I realized. Where I’d been planning on going before deciding on work. Before deciding on Neil.

Serendipity indeed, I thought coyly.

I did my best to compose myself, straightening my back and folding my hands on my lap. The breeze tugged that annoying bit of hair back down over my forehead and I swiped it back into place.

“I have a bachelor’s from NYU and I work in marketing. I moved to New York for school and then my job. I’m from Buffalo, and that’s where most of my family is. Including my brother, who is definitely real and definitely the nerd of the family, not me. I rent a place in Bushwick that’s way too expensive for one person but I make it work anyway because I hate roommates. But I don’t have any cats so you don’t need to get out your crazy cat lady detector or anything...”

“You don’t seem like the crazy cat lady sort. Nothing against crazy cat ladies, but I think you found something else to occupy your time,” Neil said. “At work on a Saturday? Either your boss hates you or you’re trying to prove a point.”

“None of the first one, hopefully. Though I think the jury’s still out on my manager...” I said. I got the impression that Mr. Diehl was one of those old school types.

You know the ones. The kind who think that yeah, sure, a woman can work in an office. So long as she’s just a secretary to a man doing the real job.

I stole another look at Neil from the corner of my eye. It was easy talking to him. Actually, it felt like I could say anything to him. Like we’d known each other since junior high or something.

It was too much.

Are you really complaining that you’re date with the handsome guy with the nice smile is going well?

And then: Yes. Yes, I am. I really don’t have time for this. I really don’t need it or him in my life right now.

“What about you?” I said. I grabbed the lip of the bench with both hands and leaned forward so that I no longer sat with my back in the crook of his arm.

“What about me?” Neil said, a hint of a smile playing across his lips.

Nice lips. Lips that were nice to kiss. Lips that had kissed me...

Get a hold of yourself! I squeezed the 2x4 bench board harder, the grain of the wood and the lacquer digging into my fingers.

“You seem like the sort of guy used to asking questions and getting answers. How do you feel about giving some answers of your own?”

“Depends on the question,” he said. He remained leaning back against the bench, as though it were the most comfortable spot between here and Brooklyn.

“Same question, then. A taste of your own medicine. Tell me more about you.”

His smile widened. He took his hand off the back of the bench and put it over his mouth, trying to hide the expression.

“What? What’s so funny?” I said. I intended it to sound offended, but my own smile ruined the effect.

He took his hand from his mouth, “Technically, that wasn’t a question. More of a command.”

I slapped him on the thigh, “Thanks, professor. But fine, have it your way...” I straightened my back, put on a serious face, “I command you to tell me more about you.” Then I sketched a gesture in the air, wiggling my fingers.

“...And now you’re a wizard,” Neil said.

I cracked up at that. When I caught my breath I looked at him again. “Just tell me.”

He nodded, more to himself than to me, I got the impression. For a moment, he watched the sail boats on the lake. Or maybe the little golden ripples on the water’s surface.

That smile remained, but it softened, became more subtle.

“I don’t have a college degree,” he began,” though most people believe I do, or that I have to have one. I’m from Connecticut. New Haven. No brothers or sisters that I know of. I also live by myself, though crazy cat lady does sound like a good option sometimes.”

He’d answered the same questions I had when I gave my own little elevator pitch. Only fair, I supposed.

But I wanted more.

I started, but he reached out and took my hand, putting his fingers over mine and easing mine from their grip on the bench.

Again, his hand was warm and dry. Again, I wondered if mine was sweaty.

“Here’s the sunset,” he said, “How long has it been since you just watched one? I can’t remember the last time I did.”

“I can’t remember, either.” I didn’t pull my hand back.

I sat back against the bench. Bit by bit, I relaxed.

It wasn’t hard. Being around Neil was easy. Effortless. I hadn’t felt like this around a guy since I couldn’t remember when.

And I knew I definitely never felt that way around a guy I barely knew. That was crazy. I was crazy.

And now was the exact wrong time for me to go crazy around or for a guy.

Just get him out of your system. Work through this and then get back to what you know’s important.

***

AFTER WE FINISHED WITH the sunset, we went to one of those hole-in-the-wall hipster coffee shops.

This one was called Shot in the Dark, and their gimmick was literally sitting in a darkened café, a shot of Americano included with every order.

I thought that the night would get worse. That maybe Neil would turn out to be like that first guy in a business suit the speed dating: nice at first, but then creepy.

But he didn’t.

Our feet touched beneath the bistro table and stayed touching.

“I have another question for you,” Neil said.

Here it comes. He’s going to ask if I’m down to “chill” after this. Or he’s going to ask if I’m ready to be done with beating around the bush. Or he’ll ask what the prize is if he correctly guesses my bra size...

Those lewd points and a dozen more ran across my thoughts.

And the thing was, I wanted him to say something like that. Something to give me an excuse to get away from him.

Because I was still smiling about the joke he’d said when we came into this café. The server had come over to get their order, and he’d asked if we could also have a couple of flashlights.

Then, when the server left, he’d leaned conspiratorially towards me and said, “That’s okay; they’re probably those kitschy kinetic ones anyway. You know, those ones you have to shake a bunch before you get any light.”

Not a good joke, admittedly. But it cracked me up all the same.

“Oh?” I said, “And what is this question?”

“Why were you even at that speed dating thing, Rachel? You’re pretty. You’re smart. You’ve got a lot going for you. So why?”

I was glad of the dimness of the café. It hid the blush that didn’t bother limiting itself to my cheeks.

Why couldn’t he just ask my bra size?

I downed my shot of watered down espresso. “It was my friends. They signed me up for it and I decided to go along with it so that they’d get off my back.”

“About dating,” Neil said. It wasn’t a question. I sensed then that he knew the truth. Or a good chunk of it at least.

I took a deep breath and then sighed it out. I’d really been hoping he would just morph into another thirsty frat boy so I could dump him and be done with it.

I hated confrontation, did everything I could to avoid it. I lost a whole string of Barbie dolls to my brother’s antics as a child because, even though I knew he took them to melt with a magnifying glass in the backyard, I couldn’t stand the thought of confronting him about it.

I forged ahead anyway. I was a grown woman now, after all. I should treat it like a Band-Aid and just pull it off.

So I gathered myself as best as I could. Again, I was glad of the darkness. It (hopefully) hid the way I trembled. The way I couldn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Yes, about dating. They all think I should have a boyfriend. That I need to date more and get out more. But I’m just at a really important point in my career right now. I know that if I keep pushing a while longer, I’ll get where I want to be... and that means I don’t really have time for dating or for guys. Sorry.”

I braced myself. For what, I didn’t exactly know. Just that I didn’t expect him to take what I hoped was that gentle letdown well. If my blessedly brief forays into online dating were any indicator, most men were too fragile to take any sort of rejection, no matter how gentle or well-reasoned.

“Don’t be sorry,” Neil said, “Not for pushing yourself.”

“Why were you there? At the dating thing,” I said.

“To meet you, I think.”

I couldn’t take this anymore. I stood up suddenly. My chair, an uncomfortable but undoubtedly expensive piece of bespoke wrought iron, clattered back across the tiled floor.

Instantly, every eye in the room was on me.

I followed the lights back out to the street, opening the door and letting New York wash over me again. The honk of horns and the squeal of brakes. The ever-present aromas of gas and diesel fumes.

I started down the sidewalk.

Why did I do this? Why did I agree to this? I’m going to kill you, Suze!

I didn’t get far down the sidewalk before Neil caught up to me. He came to a stop in front of me, his eyes searching mine.

“What was that?” he said.

“Are you for real?” I replied, “This is the exact wrong time in my life for me to meet someone like you! You’re funny and hot and I think successful but I’m not sure. And that kiss! That kiss! Why now?”

“Serendipity’s a funny thing,” Neil said, then, his smile spreading, “And you think I’m hot?”

“Don’t talk to me about serendipity,” I retorted. If I’d just chosen to go to Serendipity’s with the girls tonight, I wouldn’t be in this mess.

I needed him out of my system so badly.

Just then, my rebellious lock of hair decided now was the perfect time to fall down my forehead, the strands blurry and huge so close to my eyes.

Before I could take care of it myself, Neil swept it back into place with a deft move of one hand. That hand then cupped my cheek. I knew I needed to push it away, but I didn’t.

“We can’t do this,” I said.

“You’re wrong,” Neil replied. Our bodies shifted closer together. My lips started tingling in anticipation of meeting his again.

Scratch that, my whole body started tingling like I’d touched a live wire and couldn’t let go.

The idea came to me then. It was crazy, but I thought it could work.

“Neil?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I have something to ask you.”

“Ask away,” he said. We stood so close together that I couldn’t really see anything but him. At some point that I couldn’t recall, his other hand went to the small of my back.

Perhaps around that same unknown point, both of my hands came to rest on his chest. I could feel the strong, steady thump of his heartbeat.

When did this happen?

“Come back with me,” I said, “Back to my place.” It was a crazy idea. But in my experience, the craziest ideas often ended up making the most sense.

He leaned in even closer. Our lips grazed the barest amount that could be considered actual physical contact.

My body again reacted like I grabbed a live wire.

“I’d like that,” he said. Whispered, more like. We stood so close to each other we could whisper, even with the taxis and delivery trucks and vans passing by not 10 feet away on the road.

He hailed one of those cabs for us and I gave the cabbie the address of my apartment building when he leaned over his shoulder and asked where to.

***

YOU’RE CRAZY.

I kept thinking those two words over and over. The whole cab ride.

I also couldn’t stop thinking about how our thighs touched. Because Neil let me into the cab first, then he came in. Then, for reasons unknown, I scooted over into the middle seat rather than staying on my side.

Then we got to my building, the cab’s brakes squealing when it stopped next to the curb.

“I’ve got it,” Neil said, reaching into his jacket, presumably for his wallet.

“No, you don’t,” I said. I didn’t want him paying for anything. I didn’t want to feel like I owed him anything.

Because after tonight ended, we were through. We had to be through. And you couldn’t be through if there were still loose threads to tug on.

So I paid the cabbie and we went up to my place.

My heart did its best to smash my ribs into little bits, and I thanked my landlord silently for having that elevator installed so we didn’t have to climb the stairs.

I lived up on the fifth floor. Room 505. Door on the left side of the hall, near the end. The hallway carpet was an old maroon fading to a sort of rusty brown. The wallpaper, plain textured cream-colored stuff, had been installed with the elevator.

I noticed all these details while I fumbled out my keys. I heard the tumblers in the lock click when I slid the key home.

You’re crazy.

Then: But I need this. I want this. I want him. It’s just one night.

Something tried to tell me it was never just one night. I ignored it while I cranked the key over and then put my shoulder to the door to open it.

Light from the hallway spilled into my apartment.

“So, this is it...” I said.

We stepped inside. I closed the door. His arms swept themselves around me, pulled me close to him so that I could see nothing but that handsome face of his.

Both my hands ended up on his chest. I could feel the thump-thump of his heart through his shirt.

He smelled good. Clean. A hint of cologne. Just enough to arouse the senses rather than overwhelm them like so many other men chose to do.

“Don’t... don’t you want the grand tour?” I said. Whispered, more like. We barely had to whisper to hear each other, we were that close.

“You’re trembling,” he said.

“Am I?” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. Not with him so close.

“Yes,” he said.

I started to say something else. I think I meant to ask again if he wanted that tour.

He stopped that line of questioning. He put his mouth to mine again.

The kiss started light at first. Almost chaste. Lips only. Then our lips parted and our tongues entered the affair.

I grabbed handfuls of his shirt. His hands slid down lower than my back and grabbed handfuls of me.

Then his mouth slid off mine. His lips trailed hot down my cheek, to my neck, back up to the lobe of my ear.

I didn’t know someone’s mouth could be so hot. So feverish.

I was wrong. There was no need for some grand tour of my apartment. There was really only one room I needed to show him.

I pushed away from him. He resisted at first, but his grip loosened and his arms fell away. I grabbed one of those hands and led him down the short entrance hall of my apartment.

We passed the dark doorway to my kitchen, the similarly shadowed entrance to my small excuse for a living room.

Electric tingles of desire shot up my spine, ran through my stomach, with each footstep.

Just before I reached out to grab the knob of my bedroom door I hesitated.

Did I remember to make the bed? Did I shove that laundry into the hamper or is it still thrown haphazardly into the corner?

It had been a while since I did anything like this.

Neil decided for me. He reached out and grasped the knob as well, his fingers overlapping mine. We turned it together.

I didn’t get the chance to see if the bed was made or not.

He picked me up. Literally swept me off my feet. I gasped, flung both my arms around his shoulders.

He carried me over to the bed and set me down on it.

“Sorry,” I said, “I don’t really have guys over that often...”

“Me neither,” he said. Even in the dark I saw him grin. We both laughed.

He cut off the laugh with another kiss. His lips trailed down my throat again. This late in the day, he had some stubble. It prickled against the sensitive skin of my neck in the most delightful way.

His thigh moved between my legs. The pressure was nice. Almost of its own accord, my body shifted, wanted to increase that nice pressure. My skirt rode up my hips.

He pulled the tails of my blouse up out of my skirt. Then his fingers found that slash of bared flesh between skirt and blouse.

I started breathing heavily. This was sensory overload, too much to handle.

Then he started unbuttoning my blouse, moving from top to bottom. Each time he popped a button through, my breath caught in my throat.

When he finished, he kissed the soft and sensitive patch of skin between my breasts. Even in the darkness, I could see his eyes on me.

The skin of my stomach bunched and pebbled into tight goosebumps when he trailed his lips down it.

I laughed, “That’s no fair!”

“When did I say I was going to be fair?”

My skirt zipped along the side. With it all bunched up the way it was, Neil had to straighten it out before he could guide the zipper along its path.

He grabbed handfuls of the skirt and pulled it off slowly so that his fingernails scratched lightly along my outer thighs.

More goosebumps formed in his wake. At this rate I’d be nothing but goosebumps in no time at all.

“What are you going to do to me?” I said between heavy breaths.

I decided to let everything go. To really enjoy myself that night. After all, it was going to be the last time I saw Neil T from my speed dating adventure.

Might as well make it a good last time.

“Well,” he said, “I thought I’d start at the bottom and work my way up.”

“What?” I said.

Rather than answer, he grinned at me. Then he stripped off his jacket and dropped it on the floor. He did the same with his shirt, pulling it out of his slacks.

Even in the darkness of my bedroom I could see his well-muscled torso, from his broad shoulders to the V-shape of his abdominals.

He shifted down. Then he kissed my calf, right above my ankle, on one leg, then the other.

His lips traced a fiery path up my left leg, coming to rest where my inner thigh met the rest of my body.

My breathing became ragged. My fingers bunched up handfuls of the comforter.

He lingered in that spot, in that crease of flesh. His breath tickled at my skin. Then his mouth shifted over to the same spot on the other side. That fold of skin between my thigh and the rest of me.

“That’s nice,” I said. I wasn’t certain I could handle anymore. Handle what I thought he intended to do.

No guy had done anything like that since, well, since I broke up with my last boyfriend.

Then his lips shifted again. They glided over the thin bit of cotton still covering me. When I felt that pressure I shivered in response.

His mouth kept moving up, past the elastic waistband. Up over my stomach, back between my breasts. He kissed the base of my throat again, then my chin.

Our mouths touched for the barest moment. My eyes hooded. I got the sense of him holding himself over me.

Then he went down again. The skin between my breasts, then over my stomach knitted into goosebumps when his lips grazed over them.

This time, he grabbed the waistband of my panties and pulled them down, flicking them away from my ankles.

This time his mouth found nothing but my bared flesh, not even the thin layer of cotton to protect me.

Not that I wanted any protection. Not after he got started.

I felt the pressure of his tongue and the texture of it against me. His arms swept under my thighs, his hands ending on my stomach. I grabbed his hands and squeezed them.

He was relentless. Part of me, a dwindling part, wondered how he managed to never have to come up for air.

The rest of me disappeared inside the widening and increasing pressure of the pleasure building inside of my body.

My hips lifted up off the bed, my body seeking more of that intense pressure.

And then it snapped inside of me. My head pushed back into the mattress. My mouth opened, but no sound came out right away.

My hands gripped his harder. My hips pushed higher.

Neil didn’t stop. Not until my hips settled back on the warm softness of the comforter and I lay there panting before him.

I felt like a wet spaghetti noodle. I could feel the beating pulse of my heart in my fingertips and toes. At some point in the last few minutes a fine dew of sweat had started, spritzed over most of my body.

“That was... that was...” I said, meaning to add an incredible to the end of that sentiment, but my breath always ran out first.

“It’s not over, yet,” Neil said.

I sat up, my legs dangling off the foot of my bed. Neil stood between my knees. I undid his belt and whipped it out of its loops. I popped out the button, pulled down the zipper, then I freed him.

Before I could do anything more he pushed me back down by my shoulders, pinning me beneath him.

We kissed, hard. I could feel the heat of him on me. I wanted that heat inside of me, wanted him to fill me. I wanted it more than I wanted anything else. Wanted it more than I’d ever wanted it before.

Maybe because I knew I’d never get it, get him, again.

“In the nightstand,” I whispered to him. He didn’t ask me what I meant.

We parted long enough for him to find what was in there. I watched with greedy eyes while he rolled it on.

Then he was on me again.

Then he was inside of me, that heat pushing deep. So deep.

My body responded. My legs wrapped around him. Little trembles took me. Again my hands quested out, grabbing up fistfuls of soft comforter.

Neil saw. He reached out and took my hands, threaded his fingers into mine. He pinned them against the mattress just like he had the rest of me pinned down.

I liked that sense of being totally at his will. That he could do anything he wanted to me.

And he did.

Again, Neil was relentless. His pace never slacked.

When I screamed through gritted teeth at him to go harder, faster, he went harder and faster.

When my climax gripped me in its throes, every muscle in my body going rigid and slack, he rode it like he stole it.

At the end we came together. He wrapped his arms around me and held me as tightly as I held him, both of us gripped in that most basic response.

I held him like that for a long time, wanting that moment to linger. Wanting to feel the sense of his weight on me, wanting to remember the way he smelled, the way the dew of his sweat glistened on him.

Finally I did let him roll off me, laying on his back beside me on the bed.