Forfeiting Decency

by Rachel Schneider

  “Being a good mom?” I nod when he finally looks at me. “I was still really young when my dad died, but I’d say it was right around then. She gradually fell into depression, quit trying so hard to get up every day, started drinking.”

  I ask the question I’ve been aiming for. “When did she stop being a parent and you started?”

  He smiles contemptuously. “What’s with the questions?”

  “I want to know more about you,” I answer truthfully. “We’ve known each other for a long time, but we don’t really know each other.”

  I can feel more than see his resignation.

  “When I was in third grade, I came home from school and found Lilly crying on the kitchen table. She was four, maybe five at the time, and the minute she saw me come through the door she leapt into my arms.” He breathes out through his nose before continuing. “She was hungry, so I fixed her a Hot Pocket. I remember yelling down the hall toward my mom’s room, asking why Lilly wasn’t in school…if something was wrong.”

  This conversation seems too formal, like he’s on a therapist’s couch and I’m the doctor, taking notes and dissecting it, so I lie back on the log so he’s doesn’t feel pressured to look at me as he talks.

  “I found her passed out on the bathroom floor, still in her sleep clothes from the night before. I remember being so mad, I yelled at her for leaving Lilly alone all day. She promised it wouldn’t happen again.” He waves a hand in the air with his words. “It progressively got worse from there.”

  “And by fifteen, you were stealing cars, working for a chop-shop to take care of your sister,” I finish the story for him.

  He smiles. “Basically.”

  “You’re kind of a badass, you know that, right?”

  He scoffs at my absurdity. “Duh.”

  We’re smiling at each other, but we both really know Kip doesn’t want anyone to think of him as a hero.

  “Loving someone isn’t a sacrifice, Kaley. It’s a reward.”

  Something about the way he’s looking at me makes me itchy.

  “What about your parents,” Kip says.

  “What about them?”

  “Were you close with them?”

  I snort. “No. I always wanted a pony growing up, and they refused to get me one. And we were rich; they could afford a fucking pony.”

  “Why do you do that,” he says, a tinge of anger lacing his voice.

  I look at him out of the side of my eye, not wanting to raise my hackles quite yet. “Do what?”

  “Turn everything into a joke.”

  I smile, but it feels forced. “Life is better laughing.”

  He makes a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, turning his attention back to the scenery. “You’re not funny.”

  “I think I’m hilarious.”

  Most of the hikers have left and it’s just the two of us. We stay until the sky starts to lose the last few remnants of light. The ride back is much quicker than the ride up, but it’s dark by the time we make it back to the truck. The crickets are the loudest I’ve ever heard them, canceling out the sound of the engine as Kip starts the truck.

  Kip rotates his shoulder as he pulls out of the parking lot. “I’m out of shape,” he says, picking up his water bottle.

  “Or you just need to get laid,” I say offhandedly.

  He coughs through a swallow, arm braced against the steering wheel as he drives. “Normally I’d contest that, but you’re probably right.”

  Shocked by his admission, I pretend like what I’m about to say isn’t as monumental as it feels. “We should do it then.”

  He looks at me, slowly replacing the plastic lid on the water bottle. “Do what?”

  I give him a look. “Don’t play dumb, Kip.”

  “Me and you,” he clarifies, using a spare finger to point between us, the water in the bottle sloshing in the process.

  “Yeah.”

  Gaining his bearings, he pulls the bandana off of his forehead and lets it rest around his neck. “Not going to happen.”

  His easy dismissal perturbs me. “Why not?”

  “It’s not a good idea.”

  “We’re two consenting adults. We can have sex if we want to.”

  “That’s the thing. I don’t want to.”

  I carefully observe the way he refuses to make eye contact. “Kip, you’re pretty, but you’re a bad liar.”

  He laughs, but it’s quickly replaced with a deep breath.

  God, even the way he breathes elicits a pounding desire within me.

  He glances at me. “How would this work?”

  “Well…” Confused by his question, I lift my hands to demonstrate. “I have a vagina, and presumably, you have a penis—”

  “What I mean is…would this be a onetime deal?”

  “Oh. It depends, I suppose.”

  “On?”

  I smile. “How good it is.”

  His grip on the steering wheel is so tight, the worn leather beneath his fingers squeaks from the pressure. It’s the only noise in the cab except for the rumble of the engine the entire way back to my apartment.

  And it’s a long freaking drive.

  I spend the entire time trying to calm my racing heart. My teeth are clenched so tight they hurt, but I’m too afraid I’ll fill the silence with mindless chatter if I let up. The last thing I need to do right now is push buttons. When we finally do park in front of my building, Kip is out of the truck, retrieving my bike before I can undo my seatbelt.

  He says my name, eyes shifting from the bike and up to my face. “You’re arguably the most beautiful woman most men would dream of being with.”

  I immediately know what his answer will be. “Kip, you don’t have to sugar coat it.”

  He lets out a loud exhale, a small smile shining through. “You couldn’t just let me do it my way, could you?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  We smile, but if this is going to be a closed deal, there’s something I need to do first.

  When I take a step forward, his eyes follow the movement, holding perfectly still as I wrap my arms around his neck. I place my lips against his and he barely hesitates, if at all, and returns my kiss full force, humming a deep sound when my tongue meets his. He wraps his arm around my lower back, lifting me to my toes, pressing our bodies closer. The warmth from our overheated skin collides, and it’s like falling into a bath, chills spreading across my skin. Maybe I’m not the only one who’s been dazed since that kiss in the park.

  And then it’s over so quickly I’m sure I have whiplash.

  He huffs. “God damn it, Kaley.” He covers his mouth like a barrier.

  “Sorry.” But we both know I’m not in the least, and I can’t hide my shit-eating grin.

  He’s angry, glaring, hands positioned low on his hips. I’ve seen this stance many times before, so I already know a lecture is coming.

  I speak before he can start berating me. “Go home, jerk one out, and try not to think of me while you’re doing it.”

  He blinks against my brashness and I smirk as I grab my bike and carry it up the stairs. I proved my point. I refuse to look down in his direction as I struggle with my lock, starting to rethink bringing the issue up to Tanya after all. Leaning the bike against the wall as I walk in, I let the door shut behind me, feeling the small, proud smile on my lips slowly dissolve when I’m alone in the apartment.

  After a moment, I realize I never heard the latch of the door click in place. Turning around, I beg my heart to slow at the sight of Kip straddling the threshold. His facial expression mirrors his stance. He still isn’t quite sure if he should stay or go.

  “Why do you have to be so goddamn tempting?”

  Where I was confident thirty seconds ago, I’m now wary. His confliction over whether or not he wants to be with me is almost enough to dismiss the entire idea. Almost.

  “You make it sound like an insult.”

  Wavering for a moment, he finally makes a decision to step forward
, letting the door close behind him. “You can’t tell Lilly.”

  My heart jumps. This might happen. “She wouldn’t care.” My voice is already raspy at the thought.

  “I care,” he says. “She’s my sister and you’re her friend and it’s weird to think she’ll have inside information on my sex life.”

  “Any other stipulations?”

  He runs a hand over his mouth, clearly stressed.

  I close the remaining feet between us, looking up as I stand before him to meet his eyes. “You’re seriously overthinking this.”

  He looks down at our hands and how I’ve intertwined our fingers. He releases them, trailing the back of his fingers up my forearm, up the underside of my bicep, barely grazing the side of my boob. The sensation fires through me as I watch. His touch is tentative, like he’s forgotten what another person’s skin feels like.

  “I haven’t done this…been with someone, in a long time.”

  That’s stating the obvious. Unless he went through an experimental phase in prison, which I just don’t see happening.

  His hand reaches my neck, fingers trailing across my pulse points, and I fight the desire to touch him back. This needs to be his decision. “Even before prison, it had been a while.”

  Now I’m nervous. “How long?”

  His lips thin before he answers. “Almost a year.”

  I breathe out. Okay. We’re working with about five and a half years of celibacy. “That is a lot of pressure,” I say, voicing my thoughts.

  He cracks a small smile, finally looking up from his touch to my eyes. “I guarantee I’m the one under pressure.”

  I swallow, relishing the feel of his fingers over my throat. His eyes fixate on the movement, dilating at the same time.

  “How so?”

  His lips twist, a show of worry and humor. “Our kiss outside probably lasted longer than I’m going to.”

  I laugh. “Are you worried about the onetime-only deal?”

  “I need at least two,” he says, serious. I open my mouth to reply when he runs a thumb over my bottom lip, halting anything I was going to say. “Do you have protection?”

  Walking backwards to my bedroom, I tow him along. “You should know me better than that.”

  I turn on a bedside lamp, pulling two condoms out of the nightstand and tossing them on the bed. Kip steps closer to me, but not close enough to touch. The air is thick as his breathing becomes audible in the small space.

  His face is unreadable, almost a passive look in place. And I don’t like it.

  Reaching for the hem of my shirt, I pull the material over my head, letting it hit the floor. The air he sucks in is a telling breath. I unbutton my cut-offs and let them fall, stepping out of them without breaking eye contact. Finally, his eyes divert from mine as he follows my movements, reaching my feet and back up. When his eyes connect with mine again, there’s no mistaking the blatant desire there as he gives in.

  Cupping both sides of my jaw, he tilts my head back as he runs his hands to the nape of my neck, slowly pulling the rubber band from my hair. He wraps the strands around his wrist and pulls the hair over my shoulder. It’s long, the length hitting his elbow from the lack of maintenance I’ve put into it. The tug forces my head back. It’s domineering, slightly erotic, and the blood flowing through my limbs kicks into high gear.

  Pulling his arm through the winding hair, he catches the last portion before watching it fall through his fingers.

  I can feel the fan of his breath when he speaks. “You’re so beautiful it hurts.”

  Those words are so beautiful it hurts.

  I grasp the handkerchief still hanging around his neck. “Put your mouth on me,” I say, diverting his mouth for better uses.

  He doesn’t delay, latching his mouth onto mine, delving into the kiss with everything inside him. At least, that’s what it feels like as he pulls me against the pressure in his hiking shorts. Pulling the straps of my bra down, he follows the path with his lips until his head is bent at the perfect angle to pull my breast into his mouth.

  This…

  This is what I want.

  I arch into him, finding the gap between his shirt and the waistband of his shorts, needing to feel something of him I haven’t touched yet. His stomach tightens as I run my hand higher, bunching up the fabric with the movement.

  He pulls away and I tilt forward, my body involuntarily trying to follow. We both are panting as he toes off his shoes and socks, reaching a hand across his back to remove his shirt. He picks one of the condoms up and locks it between his teeth, leaving it there as he unbuttons his shorts and pushes the material to the ground, ripping it open once his hands are free.

  “We need to do this, like, right now.”

  I put my hands on his hips, trailing them inside his boxers, smiling when I feel him in my hand. “There’s always round two.”

  Groaning, he wraps both of his arms around me, lifting me from the floor and placing me on my back. He rocks his hips into mine once, quickly, and his entire body jerks involuntarily at the sensation. He glides the condom on as I remove my underwear and he’s between my legs within seconds. Pausing, we take a moment, breathing heavily. The way he’s looking down at me is making me self-conscious.

  I don’t do self-conscious. I grip one of his hands and guide it between my legs.

  He lets out a breath. “Kaley.” Unsteady, he runs his fingers over me, exploring more for his benefit than for mine.

  After a moment, I smile and tell him to quit teasing me. But it’s gone the instant he pushes a finger in. Like his kisses, he gives, but takes away at the same time. I’m an instant gratification type of person, but there’s something amazing about the way he draws it out. I push against his hand, and Kip responds, pushing back with the weight of his hips. An immediate buzzing sensation overflows within me and I find myself gripping his arm to the point of injury, chasing the in and out of his finger with my hips tilted up to meet the pressure of his hand.

  “I can’t remember the last time someone made me come with their hands.” My chest rises and falls heavy between us as I catch my breath.

  With a smug look, he glides himself inside me, dropping his weight onto his forearms once he’s there. I lean up and kiss him, open to how good he feels. I can feel the slight tremble of the bed from his body shaking. Needing more, I rock my hips.

  “Don’t.”

  “I’ve got to,” I say truthfully, arching into him.

  He places a strong hand on my hip, holding me still. “Kaley,” he reprimands. But it’s a desperate, weak plea.

  I dig deeper into the mattress, gaining leverage, and he groans at the sensation. “Move or so help me—”

  My words cut off when he releases my hip, moving the grip of his hand to my thigh as he finally relents. And then he’s really moving. And it’s phenomenal. This isn’t like his kisses or his fingers where there’s give and take. And with every push in, rough sounds escape his lips. He sucks the hollow of my throat, my breasts, and back to my lips. His hands move just as quickly as his mouth, restless, finding new places to discover.

  I’m not sure I’m breathing. I’m barely existing.

  We’ve barely gotten started when he starts to lose coordination of his movements, and I feel the contraction of his body over mine. He locks onto my mouth, groaning around our labored breaths, body stilling as he finishes. But it doesn’t relax him like I expect it to. Instead, he kisses me harder, putting more of his weight on me. He’s on a mission, and I don’t object. When he pulls out, it’s only to reach for the other condom, resituating himself over me.

  “There’s no way you can go again.”

  “Trust me; I’m way more surprised than you are.” A playful smile spreads on his lips, a hypnotic look in his eyes.

  He kisses over my chest and down my stomach. I already know where he wants to go as he descends, lips grazing my belly button. I don’t want him there, and I flip over onto my stomach.

  He leans back on h
is knees. “Jesus Christ,” he cusses. “You’re beautiful in every way.”

  Wrapping an arm under my waist, he lifts my hips. This time he eases in slowly, completely at ease in this position.

  “I can’t believe I almost said no to this,” he says, pushing in.

  “Let this be a reminder.”

  He pulls out. “Of what?”

  Looking over my shoulder, I watch him as he concentrates on where we’re connected, a look of reverence.

  “That I’m always right.”

  He looks up, meeting my eyes, and a smirk falls on his lips. “I’ll give you this one time.” Leaning over, he places my back against his front, pushing in deeper. “This time only.”

  His weight suddenly creates a lack of space and I curl my fingers into the bedding. Other than tiny adjustments, there’s not any wiggle room in this position. I concentrate on feeling him, listening to his breathing, trying to keep up with my own. The smell of my sheets reminds me of where I am—in my bed, in my home, my comfort zone.

  Abruptly, everything ceases, and I open my eyes to find that Kip’s stopped moving. He pulls out, heaving my body onto his chest, positioning me over him as he lies back.

  Placing his hands on top of mine, he says, “Look at me.”

  I hold on to the bandanna around his neck as I sink onto him, trying to ignore the way his eyes refuse to release mine. I grind down and palm my breasts, and he groans, eyes falling shut with the sensation.

  This…

  This is what I need.

  “IF YOU TOUCH THE radio one more time, I’m going to make you walk.”

  “My ears are bleeding, Kip. They’re bleeding. It’s so painful.”

  Slapping the radio dial with the palm of his hand, he turns the radio off altogether. “You are the most dramatic person I’ve ever met.”

  “And you’re so stuck in your ways, you can’t see past your own dick. It’s called compromising. I know, a totally foreign concept to you.”

  “It’s my truck,” he says, indignant.

  “Maybe if I explain it, you’ll have a better grasp of the idea. It’s when two people both offer to make sacrifices to find a happy medium. For example, if we listen to my music on the way to our destination, you get to listen to your music on the way back.”