Fly With Fire

by Frances Randon

  “Why don’t you try to get some sleep?” He took the water glass afraid she’d get sick if she kept drinking.

  “I don’t think I can sleep. Not yet. Mind if I step out on the terrace?” She glanced toward the blowing curtains. “You forgot to lock your door again, Detective.” She stepped out into the warm night. She smelled the pot and heard voices. “Two in one night, way to go, Zacko.” “Shut up, jerk.”

  Zack stepped out behind her onto the tiny terrace. There was not much more room than for the two of them and his grill. Mo looked out over the parking lot with her hands on the rail. “I was so scared, Zack. I’ve never been so scared.”

  He wrapped his arms around her from behind. “It’s okay. It’s okay to be scared. Something like that. You’re okay. You’ll be okay. He brushed small kisses against the side of her head pressing his lips into her hair and taking in her scent. “I can’t begin to tell you how scared I was too. I’d thought I’d lose it, Mo, when I saw him aim his gun at you. I wanted to crash through the door and kill him. The only thing that stopped me was fear for you.” Now his voice shook. She turned to him.

  “Let’s not talk about it anymore tonight. We’ve both been through it. Why do I forget that? Maybe it’s because you seem so strong.” She put her hands on his chest looking up at him in the dim light. “You saved my life, Zack.” She took his hand and stepped around him pulling him around and into the living room. There was no music save the sounds of the city. The vibration between them seemed to have altered the air like heat waves from a hot road. She pulled the towel off her head. Her long damp hair came streaming down over her shoulders.

  His mouth went dry. “Mo,” was all he could say as she dropped his bathrobe on the floor. She wore his plain white Tee shirt. It reached the top of her thighs. He’d never seen anything so sexy. He gasped a little gasp and wet his lower lip. He took her hand and led her into the bedroom. Just inside the door he pulled her to him and kissed her with gentle tentative kisses. She ran her hands through his hair and searched his face in the lamplight. His pulse galloped as she ran a finger over his lips. “I don’t want you to do this out of gratitude,” he managed.

  “I don’t want you to do this because you feel sorry for me. I’ll show you my gratitude another time. This is not about that.” She started unbuttoning the black shirt that had gotten covered with some kind of dust during his rescue of her.”

  “I don’t feel sorry for you. But I want you to need me. I need you to…” He let the shirt fall and prodded her to the queen size bed that took up most of the room. She sat sideways on the edge of it and reached up to unbuckle him. She met his obvious arousal with a little smile. She couldn’t help but feel a little triumphant. He slipped out of the slacks and her hands grasped the edges of his boxers. He sprang forth with a little triumph of his own.

  Mo pulled Zack down toward her. “I do need you now, Zack. Hold me. Make love to me.” Her whispered words aroused him as much as the feel of her in his arms. He leaned her back on the bedspread with his hand behind her head and felt her body beneath his. He pressed his lips on hers and felt the small mouth open to take in his tongue. He teased her with it, darted it lightly and then gently nipped her bottom lip before pressing full and hard. His hands were on her, touching her through the tee shirt. His hand felt the swell of her small perfect breasts while he caressed her hair and kissed with small soft kisses all over her face. Her eyes, her nose, her sharp cheekbones felt his tender kisses. Again his lips pressed hard on hers as she pulled him close against her.

  Mo’s felt the strength of his body with her hands and wanted to explore every nuance of it. She pushed her tongue into his mouth, her head almost spinning with the sensation of his mouth tasting hers, his hands on her, his arousal insistent against her flesh. She pushed at him and he backed up with a questioning look, fearful she had changed her mind. “Your tee shirt’s very comfortable, Zack, but I think it’s time to give it back.” She reached for the edge of it and as she pulled it up Zack realized she wore nothing beneath it. He drew in a quick breath then helped relieve her of the shirt. Like a river breaking through a dam he flooded with emotion that went beyond desire. He was on her, hands and lips and manhood. Mo reached for him and felt the pulse of his longing. He moaned as she lightly stroked. He took her hand away and raised both her hands above her head and kissed her hard. His tongue seemed to be gently probing for the path to her very soul. Then keeping his hands locked on her wrists he caressed her with his lips. Her face. Her neck. He ran his tongue lightly on her collarbone then kissed the top of her breasts, one and then the other.

  When he took in a nipple with the lightest grasp of his teeth she arched into him. He played teasingly at hardened tips. Mo struggled to free her hands and wrapped a leg around him begging with her body for all. “Zack!” she whispered throatily. She could feel him throb against her thigh. The torture of not touching him took her to the edge of desperation. Zack let her hands go and used his to caress while he ran his tongue down her hard stomach then detoured to an exploratory journey of a hip. He caressed her thighs as Mo, feeling as if she would combust, soothed the hair of the beast that had claimed her. Her head reared back as Zack parted her thighs. His tongue was the key that opened her. His fingers prodded her further. He tasted the moist center of her desire. His nose brushed soft jet hair. She screamed in little bursts with each touch of his tongue and cried out a long cry when he pulled her hard into his mouth. She rose and reared and shrilled. His finger was enclosed in the soft wetness of her. He felt the pressure of her pulsating each time he encased her with his lips.

  Mo grabbed at him with surprising strength. Her hands clawed his hair and arms and back. She raised her upper body up and trapped him between her thighs then dropped back with a scream as he brought her to the height of sensation. She breathed hard and moaned a fluttering moan. She could not take any more sensation. She could not take another… He reared over her, his mouth wet. Through that undulating haze she saw something like insanity in his eyes. A passion had overtaken him and reduced him to the animal. His looming animal passion surged with new unfettered urges. He wrapped himself around her and pressed himself against her. Her hand found him and he sank in slowly. He built his movements to a rhythm that let her push into his thrusts while his lips found her breasts. As if a raging fever had taken his senses, he moaned and nipped and sucked. He was so mad with the lust he felt for her, the weeks of repressed, concealed desire, he want to consume her.

  She longed to be consumed by him. Each thrust made her shriek and grab and buck against him. His gentle nips drove her to a fury of need for him to breach every vestige of the self discipline she’d lived by. Her heart pounded when he pulled her to him, his hands holding her by the firm soft mounds of her bottom. His lips found her mouth again and he pounded them both toward blinding ecstasy.

  Zack knew he was close. Mo screamed as torrents of sensation rippled out from the locus of her passion. With a will that matched his lust for her he pulled away and she shrieked at the loss of him, clawing out as if trying to grip a crumbling ledge. “Is it okay? I almost…safe…Is it…” He could hardly whisper the words through his panting.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay!” Mo grabbed at him with desperate greed. Zack pulled her up and turned her so they knelt spooned together, her back to his stomach. He rubbed against her ass and thighs with rigid heat. He kissed the side of her face and she twisted to meet his mouth. Her hair flowed down her back and he released her mouth to press his face into it. Mo rolled her head back onto his shoulder with a moan when she felt his hand squeeze her inflamed labia together. She begged for him as he teased and rolled the center of her desire between them. She breathed harder and harder as he vibrated her faster. When he realized she was close he found her and was engulfed in her. A howling keen raked his ears as he plunged into her. His hand never lost its rhythm as she stiffened. Mo lurched back to meet his thrusts trilling madly, her head swinging wildly. His hands on her drove her to mindlessne
ss. Zack pulled her and bent her and wrapped her and filled her until she felt as if every thread of muscle in her body would explode with sensation.

  “Zack! Zack!” She cried his name as her body drew taut like a bow and quivered with release.

  “Mo, you’re so…” he panted as his whole body went rigid. He half growled half cried her name again, driving deep as he held her hard. His face was buried in the silken hair against the back of her neck. Her body shuddered against his as they fell forward swimming in waves of ecstasy. He plowed into her grunting as her body pooled like liquid onto the bed. He collapsed on her. Their quick breaths subsided slowly as the last thrills of passion rolled through them.

  They lay quiet for a while until they could almost breathe normally. Zack rolled off of Mo and pulled her close. He thought he should think of something, something to say, but nothing came to him. He could only feel her still trembling body next to his. Mo slid her arm limply around him. Her brain was not to be found at all. Only her heart spoke to her and it said “Zack”.

  The light of day began to nudge against Zack’s consciousness. His eyes battled to remain firmly shut as the awareness of breathing next to him formed a question in his mind. An answer flooded his memory with images and sounds, sensations and feelings. He managed an eye and turned his head toward the breathing. The lamp was still on. Light shone in around the edges of the blinds. Her long, slender body curved away from him. Her arm was slung over her eyes. Her hair sprawled on and around her in thick strands. Zack opened the other eye and focused them both on the mild rise and fall of her breathing. He studied her back and noticed a small birthmark right below her right shoulder blade. He could see the ridges of her spine. He frowned in ire at the purple bruise near the base of it. Her hip curved down to her long thigh. On the back of her knee there was a small Y shaped scar. Her legs were crossed at the ankle as if even in sleep she would keep her sense of propriety. He turned on his side reaching out a hand to touch, and then pulled it back to let her sleep.

  Mo dreamed she was in the backyard of a ramshackle house her grandmother had rented for a while in Toronto. She walked a wire in slippers holding her hands straight out from her sides. She was seven and an already accomplished gymnast and acrobat. Gram held up the violin and bade her play as she walked the thin line. The strings screeched as she pulled the bow across them. She felt unbalanced holding the instrument between her chin and neck.

  So many places to focus at once. Discipline upon discipline. “Free your mind to find your center. Let go of fear to achieve balance.” The awkward position of her body and the discordant sound made her step unsteady. Mo felt the wire wobble and saw that it was not secured to a platform but held by Trollie the clown. He smiled his strange smile with his red rimmed eyes looking into hers. She felt something poke into her back. Gram was on the wire behind her. She pushed her along with an umbrella tip as Mo tried to control the bow. The violin strings began to pull as if glued to the bow. They stretched as she drew and hung loose when she slid it back, still sticking to the bow. She held the bow out and the strings remained stuck. Trollie whipped the wire he held but she managed to ride it like a wave and suddenly the violin was wrested from her in a violent gust of wind. She turned to find Gram’s umbrella hooked to the wire. Gram had disappeared. She managed to grab the umbrella and was suddenly on the ground by herself, in the back yard. But she was grown up now and rain poured down on her. She looked down at her little girl’s leotard and slippers. A chill went through her. She held the umbrella away from her. “Find your center,” Gram’s voice was a distant echo. She pointed the tip of the umbrella toward her chest and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes and pressed it between her breasts.

  She flew through the air, the sensation of the wind all around her. Her eyes closed, she could only feel the movement. When she opened them she soared over the Ferris wheel at Navy Pier. The lights blinked as she soared and passed the lights on top of the buildings. Higher and higher she went until she felt a shard of fear enter her. She closed her eyes and touched the place the umbrella had left a bruise. She was suddenly on a trapeze and saw Zack waiting on the platform. He held out his hand and the fear was gone.

  Mo slowly opened her eyes and felt an ache over her entire body. She could see the daylight around the edges of the blinds. She closed her eyes and hoped for a return to sleep but the memory of the strange dream intruded. How much of what she remembered was a dream. How much had been real. She turned and looked at the empty place beside her. The indentation on the pillow next to hers was still warm when she put her hand on it. She touched the mattress and felt his warmth there too. Her mind separated the fragments of memory into clear images. The images she pieced together into coherent recollection. Zack. She smelled coffee. Its aroma seemed to soothe even the tormented muscles. She couldn’t remember when she’d last had sore muscles like this but the sensation of them was suddenly delicious. They had loved again in the night. A tender exchange of each other’s caresses. A gentle release yet no less intense than their first coupling. She yawned and smiled as she stretched her body thinking of all the ways they’d touched each other.

  Mo went into the bathroom to freshen up. She felt a sharp ache and stood with her back to the mirror and twisted to see the bruise at the base of her spine. She recalled the jab of the gun. “Oh shit.” She ran her large tooth comb through her hair. She thought she looked a little pale but figured it could be the poor lighting. She remembered her sick stomach and felt a ravenous pang.

  “What’s for breakfast?” she asked as she walked out of the bedroom.

  “I hope you’re hungry. Just so happens I picked up some bagels and lox at the store yesterday. I must be clairvoyant.” It was her favorite breakfast. Zack set a cup of coffee in front of Mo. He slid a quart of milk next to it and kissed her forehead. Then he turned her barstool and pressed deeply against her lips. “You need to start off with some food today.” He went back around the island.

  “There you go, telling me what I need again.” Mo smiled and poured some milk into her coffee. She wondered if he had gotten the lox with other company in mind.

  Zack pulled the bagels out of the toaster. “You didn’t seem to disagree with me about what you needed last night.”

  “Was that last night? I feel like I’ve been asleep for days.” She took a sip. He made good coffee and she didn’t know why that surprised her.

  “Just last night.” He looked at her with a knowing little smile.

  “Now you think you know all about what I need?” Her shy smile belied the confident tone. She did feel shy. She’d never responded sexually to someone like she had him. She even felt a little embarrassment thinking of the complete abandonment he’d inspired.

  He pushed a whole grain bagel at her. “Food. For one thing. I know you can eat so don’t be shy about it now.” The lox and cream cheese looked yummy and she took a big bite. Zack ate his mentally smiling at her childlike enjoyment. He hated to infuse a bleak reality in to their first morning as lovers. “We have to go over to the precinct this morning. You’ll have to make your statement. There were plenty of witnesses to corroborate. It shouldn’t take long. Are you feeling up to it?” Zack set down his coffee. He looked at her as if unsure he could trust her protestations of being perfectly able to make her statement.

  “Funny just some random guy. Needed a fix? What drives people to do something like that? I want to get it over with and forget about it.” She spun on the chair looking around his apartment.

  “Mo, it may not be so easy to forget. On top of…well, everything else. There’s no shame in seeing someone. Someone who can help.”

  “Help? Help with what? I’m fine. I’ll be fine as soon as this statement thing is over.” She seemed to pull into herself a little and Zack hoped her resistance to the idea of some counseling didn’t mean she’d try to push him away and deal with everything alone. He figured that had been her mode of coping for a long time. Clamp down and put everything into work. In that mo
ment he saw how close that was to his own coping mechanism. He decided to lighten up.

  “So are you heading up to Montreal? I can take you to the airport after the statement. You probably want to stop at the hotel.” Zack watched her brow furrow ever so slightly. Her face seemed to go blank.

  “I think I’ll just stick around and practice. I’m afraid I pissed the security people off yesterday by walking out of the airport. Roddy’s going to ream me out too.” But that’s not what was really on her mind. They had had their fun and back on earth none of her options felt very enticing. Greendale. Montreal. Her hotel room. Yeah, being the good guy he was he’d see she got to where she needed to go. But the fact was he had quit and wasn’t going back with her.

  “I wish you hadn’t run out on those guys. They can’t do their job if you don’t cooperate.” He cleared her plate and put the dishes in the sink. “And look at what happened. I’m not saying it’s your fault, about the robbery. I called Roddy. You know he’d gone to meet his wife in New York. I was able to catch him before he got on a plane back to Chicago. He was almost hysterical not knowing where you were. The security people got your bag off the plane. It’s in your room. You shouldn’t just blow them off like that. They have a job to do. No one knew where you were.”

  And she wouldn’t be here. “I called them. I owe them an apology,” she said with contrition. There would have been no them last night, she thought. Mo felt her defenses tighten. “Please don’t lecture me. Not right now.” Her voice was still hoarse. She sounded a little cranky. She’d let herself go with a man for the first time in her life. Really let herself go. Now here she was circling the wagons because she knew it was just a night. She suddenly felt so unhappy and didn’t understand why. Couldn’t she just be grateful for the phenomenal sex and move on? What did she need from him? Nothing he could give her. Nothing she could return. They might as well be from different planets. Like that book said.