He leads her by the hand to his door and lets her in. He complains of mess behind the door, but she doesn’t think it’s that bad.
His bed is against the left wall. There is a desk at the head of his bed and a chair in the middle. It’s a small room, but she thinks it’s beautiful. Clothes and life are strewn about the room. She takes notice of the guitar in the corner. She wonders if he knows how to play.
He starts a movie on his laptop. She finally realizes there is no TV in the room. She sits on the arm of his chair with her coat still on, trying to figure out what is going on. He sits on his bed.
It’s warm in his room and she decides to take off her coat. She’s only going to stay for a few minutes, though. He invites her to sit by him on his bed. She takes off her shoes and sits next to him as he lays down. She notices that the room surprisingly doesn’t smell like smoke.
As she watches the movie, he begins to rub her back. It feels nice to her but she isn’t sure about it. She excuses herself to use the bathroom. When she returns, she realizes that her back hurts. She rubs her back and he invites her back onto the bed. He is now sitting at the end of the bed. She sits and he takes her foot into his hand. He begins to rub her tired foot and she cannot sit any longer. She lays back and enjoys the feeling of his hands on her feet, massaging them. He moves up to her ankles and her calves. He pushes and kneads her tired muscles. He rubs his thumbs up and down her shins, pushing harder each time. When he is finally done, he sets her legs up on pillows and moves to the chair in his room. She remains on the bed alone, completely relaxed from her massage.
Soon she realizes how sore her back is and cannot lay on her back any longer. She turns over to lay on her stomach and continue watching the movie. Soon she can feel his warm hand on the bare skin of her back. Skin on skin. Is she ready for this kind of commitment? Her lower back aches no matter how she lays
He pulls her shirt up to her upper back while she still lays on her stomach and he proceeds to unhook her bra. Her heart begins to race, wondering where this will lead. He gives her a massage, and a massage is all it turns out to be. She is surprised that he doesn’t try anything else.
When he is finished, she lays there. She is unable to fully process and register what has just occurred. She rehooks her bra and sits up. Her head immediately begins to pound from laying down.
She needs water.
She reaches for the water bottle on her desk only to find that it is empty. He goes to re-fill it for her. He comes back and hands the bottle to her and she drinks gratefully the cool, wet water. She puts the water bottle on his desk.
She then lies down on the bed, relaxing from the massage. She tries to concentrate on the movie, but is acutely aware of him arranging himself next to her. Pulling the blanket from the foot of the bed, covering her with it. Sliding underneath it himself. She isn’t sure how she feels about the closeness of proximity to him. Soon his arm is draped across her stomach, his fingers grazing her side. She is aware that her shirt has ridden up a slight bit. He nestles his cheek on her shoulder and she can feel his breath on her neck.
Soon he has pulled his leg up and rested it on hers. She feels her heart speed up and prays that he doesn’t notice. Her breathing increases slightly as her mind begins to race, thoughts of the past, thoughts of the future, thoughts of the present. He jokes with her and she makes a joke back. Lightly chides him for his invasion of her personal space.
She looks at his face, into his eyes. She is unable to tear her eyes away for what seems like forever. Taking in his features, taking in his smile, taking in what hides behind his eyes. She wonders what is hiding back there that he’s not saying. She can see it, but she doesn’t know what it is.
Her hand migrates to his on her side. Feeling his hand, feeling his wrist, feeling his fingers. Quickly, gracefully and almost instantaneously he moves. He is soon lying on top of her, his hands holding hers above her head. She is visibly breathing hard. She does not know if she is excited or scared or just nervous. Perhaps it is a little of all three.
He smiles at her. She nervously smiles back. He lowers his face to hers and kisses her, ever so gently. As he slowly pulls away, she goes with him, hungry for more. He lets go of one of her hands and cradles her face. One of her hands travels up to his hair. She runs her hand through it. He then moves from her mouth to her neck. Oh her sweet neck. His hand moves through her hair to the back of her neck as he kisses her neck, gently biting. She has never felt anything like this before. She has never felt so beautiful, so desired. She lets out a small groan. He takes it as a cue to continue.
He moves from her neck down. He pushes up her shirt and kisses her stomach. He tugs at the waist of her dress pants and kisses even lower. She lets out another groan, another sigh. He kisses again and her back arches.
He moves back up to her stomach, kissing, biting. With each kiss, her back arches more into them, she loses herself a little more each time. She reaches out and finds his hair and she runs her hands through it, grabbing fistfuls every time her back arches.
He finally comes back to her mouth. His hand holds her head, grabbing her hair. He kisses her as though he will never kiss anyone again. His other hand has worked its way to her back, under her shirt. He is passionate but gentle, hungry yet self-controlled.
He finally slows down and nuzzles his nose to her neck. He breathes in her smell. She lays there, breathing hard. Trying to catch up. She keeps her eyes closed and focuses on slowing down her breathing.
She finally opens her eyes. He is lying next to her again, smiling at her. A knowing smile. She smiles back, unable to do anything more. She closes her eyes again and thinks about what just occurred. She opens her eyes again to look at his beautiful face. She is suddenly aware of him rubbing her leg. He lies down next to her. A contented sigh escapes his lips.
Soon he is asleep. She is wide awake. She doesn’t know what to think about what just happened. She lays there for what seems an eternity and then sits up. She realizes how cold the room is. She rubs her arms, rubs her face, rubs her eyes. Her eyes finally land on a clock. 3:30 am.
She stands up and looks over her shoulders. He is still asleep. She silently moves the chair to find her shoes. She slips on the shoes and puts her socks in her bag. She begins to put on her coat, trying to think of what she will say if he wakes up. Suddenly he rolls over. Her heart jumps to her throat and she freezes. She watches him for almost a full minute before she moves again. She takes her water bottle and her bag and walks to the door. She turns the lock as quietly as possible. She jumps when it clicks and glances at him. Not a movement from him.
She quietly opens the door and slips out. She shuts it quietly and prays that no one comes. She buttons her jacket as she walks down the hall and out the door to her car. When she gets inside, she sits and breathes for a few moments. She turns the key and fires up her car. She drives away, hoping that he will talk to her tomorrow. All she can do now is wait.