Coffee, Sex and Law

by Avril Rose

  I have no desire to drink a coffee at this time of night, but I couldn't think of anything better to say.

  “Okay... I ruined your suit, it’s the least I could do,” she agrees with a welcoming smile.

  She stops for a second and presses her thumb to her teeth before continuing.

  “I... I just have a couple of things to do first. Is that alright?”

  I don’t answer, staring at her with a predatory attitude. Her innocence is almost touching, but I don’t forget why I’m there. I want to clarify this situation with her and move on to something else. She’s just another conquest. It’s out of the question that I continue to think about her tomorrow like I’ve been doing the past few days. I need to escape the hold she has on me, even if she’s unaware of it. Now. To protect myself.

  I loosen my tie and watch her go about her work. She takes off her apron and goes to the door to turn the sign so it reads “Closed,” then locks the door and lowers the shutters that hide the shop from the busy street.

  “If I don’t close up,” she explains, turning off the main lights, “I'll be here all night. You want the usual?”

  The café is now dimly and almost romantically lit. If she only knew... This atmosphere is perfect to get what I came here for. The real Liam is back, there’s no doubt.

  “Yes, please,” I confirm.

  “Coming right up!”

  I want to laugh as she says what she always says. It’s almost 8 o’clock at night and she’s as chipper as she is at 8 a.m.

  I observe her every movement, which she most likely performs all day long at the same intense speed. Leaning on the counter, my chin resting in my hand, I watch her perfectly orchestrated choreography. She's beautiful. Her beauty is different than that of the women I usually date. She’s natural, fresh, insanely charming. In her work uniform: jeans, shirt, and sneakers. Her tight pants reveal sensual curves, and her slightly unbuttoned shirt hints to a deliciously rounded chest. She stands up on her tiptoes to reach a coffee cup on the shelf and flits from one spot to the next. She's so... alive. I let myself become entranced by the tempting vision of her. All of my five senses are awakened by her: I can smell her perfume, burned in my memory... I can watch her body accomplish aerial moves... and I can listen to her hum. But the two essentials are missing from this moment: to taste her, touch her.

  I stand up, unable to wait any longer. I didn’t come here for coffee, as good as it is. I came here for her. To have her. To prove to myself that she wasn’t worth the trouble. Like all the others.

  She fills the percolator with ground beans that she tamps down confidently, places it on the machine, and presses one of the many buttons. My espresso begins to drip.

  I'm now standing behind her, but she hasn’t noticed. The noise of the machine has covered up the sound of my footsteps.

  When I wrap my arms around her waist, her breathing suddenly stops and mine accelerates imperceptibly. She doesn’t push me away.

  I lean in toward her bare neck, breathing in her delicate scent, nourished by her aroma. I would recognize it anywhere. How is it possible? I place my greedy lips on her burning skin. I feel her body contract.

  “Wha... What are you doing?” she mutters without turning around.

  Instead of answering her question, encouraged by the fact that she hasn’t pulled away from me, I place my mouth on her again, tasting her skin with my tongue this time. She’s delicious. I feed off her sweet scent.

  "No, no, I can't."

  “You can’t ‘what’?” I say, pushing her to explain herself, brushing my fingertips across her neck.

  I’m playing with her because I can tell she’s caught up in contradictions right now: she’s saying no, but her body is saying the opposite. The way she's leaning into me, allowing me to hold her tighter, betrays her. I’m convinced, at this exact moment, that our kiss didn't leave her indifferent either. Every inch of her seems to be magnetically attracted to me. The chemistry is there, invisible but real.

  “Why didn’t you come back for three days?” she says suddenly, quiet.

  So that’s it. She’s mad that I didn’t follow up after the kiss.

  “Did you think about me?” I ask in an inviting voice.

  I ask the question, though the answer seems obvious. I feel the need to hear her say it out loud.

  She’s quiet for a minute, probably weighing the pros and cons of answering my question. Seeing her grab the counter in front of her puts all kinds of ideas in my head about what we could do in this room. My desire for her is starting to heighten fast.

  Keep a cool head, Liam.

  Well, try at least!

  “Yes,” she finally admits.

  I thought of you too, Zoe. Way more than I wanted to. I need to get you out of my head.

  After this admission, her breathing suddenly becomes shallower, making me want her even more. I loosen my grip on her to explore her body. My hands slowly caress her thighs, hips, torso. She leans into me more and more, slightly tilting her head back so I can freely access her neck. I continue tasting her. Her skin is soft and delicious. My erection begins to press into her lower back.

  “And you, did you think about me?” she asks, surprising me.

  My hands continue their exploration, moving down toward the edge of her intimacy before working back up to her breasts. I touch her with more insistence, encouraged by her heavy breathing. She presses into me again, lifting her arms to grab my hair. I love that.

  I undo the snaps of her red and black plaid shirt in a single gesture, revealing full breasts inside a delicate black lace bra. I trace the contour of her breasts with my index finger, continuing to kiss every inch of her bare throat.

  “Yes.”

  I can tell she’s smiling.

  “Turn around.”

  She immediately obeys. When her eyes meet mine, burning with desire, my cock grows even harder, almost painful. I take her face in my hands and ravenously embrace her lips. She enters my mouth with passion, moaning and trembling. Our tongues dance. This kiss is even more incredible than the first. The heat she gives off is bewitching. I’m overcome, despite myself. Drawn into a whirlwind of senses I didn’t even know existed.

  I'm terrified. It feels wrong to feel so good.

  I need to put an end to this before it’s too late. But all I can think about is making it last.

  She stops kissing me suddenly, and with her breathing as chopped as mine, she stares at me like she could devour me, almost savage.

  Don't stop, Zoe...

  My prayers are answered. She is back on me, running her hands through my hair, her tongue swirling around mine. I’m about to lose it. I want her, completely. Now.

  “I want you. Now.”

  She avoids making eye contact for a second. I’m guessing she’s not used to such direct communication. I watch her as her internal struggle plays out, choosing between her obvious desire to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh and her reason. When she gives me an incredibly determined look, I understand she has made her choice.

  “I want you, too. Now.”

  I smile at her surprising nerve.

  She takes off my jacket and loosens my tie, throwing it behind her as she begins unbuttoning my shirt urgently. She pulls it off.

  She examines my torso for a few seconds. A quiet smile illuminates her face. She explores my body, her delicate fingers tracing my ab muscles before she presses her palms into my smooth skin. I watch her, trying to keep myself under control. She looks up into my eyes.

  My impulses take over when she nibbles on her lower lip.

  I lift her by the waist to set her down on the counter, knocking off a few cups in the process. They shatter onto the floor.

  She wraps her legs around my waist and grabs my neck to bring my mouth back to hers. I’m encouraged by her moaning and her skin, hot with desire. I unbutton her jeans, still kissing her. She lifts herse
lf up to help me pull them off.

  I stop kissing her for a second to admire her. She’s gorgeous in her fine lingerie, exposing her desire for me without shame.

  I put my lips on hers again. I want to possess her. I want her to remember me as the best lover she’s ever had, and will ever have.

  And then I’ll go back to my normal life. I’ll stop thinking about her.

  My hands follow the contours of her face, her neck, and then her breasts. I free them from her bra. My forehead is pressed against hers, our hot breathing united. I gently pinch her erect nipples, rolling them between my fingers, pressing harder and harder.

  When I can’t wait any longer, I move to taste them with my tongue. As I take one of her nipples in my mouth, a moan of pleasure escapes her lips. I tease it with my tongue, taking my time. I caress the other breast with one hand while the other ventures lower, between her thighs. She leans back slightly, her shoulders now against the wall as her hands grip my hair. I brush my hand against her skin through her wet panties. I pull the fabric aside to caress her. She's so warm and wet. She arches back as I slide one finger then another inside her, still sucking the tips of her breasts. I want to pleasure her. As if, for once, her enjoyment were more important than my own.

  “Come here. I want to feel you inside me,” she declares in a distant voice.

  I pull away and grab a condom from my inside jacket pocket. The one I had been planning to use with her tonight.

  She surveys me hungrily, still sitting on the counter looking so goddam hot, as I remove the rest of my clothes and move back to her. The intensity in her eyes is almost unsettling; I don't feel as sure of myself as I usually do. I hand her the foil packet and watch her every move as she unrolls the protection over my hard cock. Her hesitation reveals her lack of experience. She’s obviously not used to one-night stands. Is she going to regret breaking her own rules once tomorrow rolls around? And what about me? How will I feel tomorrow?

  This woman is awakening a new desire in me. More violently intense than anything I’ve ever experienced. Am I breaking my own rules, too?

  My cock throbs against her. She has me so turned on. I don’t know how long I’ll last once I’m inside her.

  "I want you.”

  She opens her eyes when she hears my confession. The look she gives me lets me know she can't wait to feel me deep inside of her.

  Too excited to wait any longer, I pull her soaking panties to the side and slowly enter her. A warm wave washes over me immediately. We both moan in unison as I thrust, gaining speed. Our tongues dance passionately, our bodies quaking with desire, pressed against one another.

  “Yes!... Faster...”

  I accelerate as she whispers her demands.

  She arches back suddenly, digging her short fingernails into my back, exploding in ecstasy on my cock. I have my own incredible orgasm.

  It takes us a few minutes to come back to reality.

  “That was...” she starts to say.

  "That was what?”

  She searches for the right qualifier for a second.

  “That was... completely divine.”

  I kiss her all over. We both smile, satisfied and delighted.

  Yes, it was intense. Incredibly intense. And real. So real.

  So now what do I do?

  I was supposed to bang her and then move on. I was convinced that it would stop her from haunting me like she has since that first kiss.

  And instead, I made love to her. In every sense of the term. A first for me. And to top it off, all I want right now, this very moment, is to stay with her...

  Goddammit, Liam! Do something!

  I struggle with myself, coming down off the high, remembering all the reasons why I should not want to stay with her and why I have to stop thinking about her.

  I get dressed without saying a word, like a real bastard, as planned. I feel her eyes on me. She must be asking herself a thousand questions. She doesn’t even know my name.

  With my jacket in hand, I finally look up at her. She's put her shirt back on without buttoning it up and her arms are crossed to hide her nakedness. She rubs her arms to warm her cool skin.

  She knows what I’m doing: I got what I came here for and now I’m going to leave, without giving her any hope of seeing me again. Worse yet, I’m leaving her with the idea that I'm a total asshole. It’s what has to be done.

  “I need to go,” I state simply. “You were perfect. Delicious.”

  She stiffens when she hears my words.

  “Okay...” she says in a tight voice.

  She stands up and gives me an insolent smile.

  “Thank you. That was very... entertaining!”

  Her reaction leaves me speechless. She’s not even trying to make me stay. She hasn’t asked when I’m going to call her!

  I walk toward the exit, not sure what to say or do.

  You can't just leave like this!

  I turn around suddenly and I freeze. The room is deserted. A dim light lets me know that she's gone to the back of the shop.

  This ending is leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

  Go to work, Liam. And don’t think about her anymore. Mission accomplished. Moving on!

  6

  Zoe

  It’s been almost a week since I last saw 00S.

  S for Sadistic, Stone-Hearted Swine.

  It’s been almost a week since I ate, slept, or thought of anything besides him.

  I’ve tried everything to get him out of my head: I’ve worked my butt off, partied, swum, jogged, shopped, meditated, and hated him. Nothing has worked. Dyeing my hair blue was my last resort on the “list of ways to forget an amazing lover.” But I gave up on that idea.

  I’ve been through all the stages since that fateful night: deepest disappointment at seeing him leave so suddenly (”I need to go.” Ha, right!); anger at myself for being so naive; a feeling of true nostalgia for the passionate, unforgettable connection we shared; and undeniable carnal desire to see him again.

  In the end, it was just sex. Nothing more. So why is he haunting my thoughts?

  Lisa and I have switched places. She immediately understood something was up when I called her to tell her about my one-night stand, without revealing the juicy details, which I prefer to keep to myself. Like the good friend that she is, she decided to momentarily suspend her post-separation/pre-divorce grieving to support me. In vain. But it doesn’t matter. Knowing that she’s there for me is already a good start to pulling myself back together.

  “I brought croissants,” she declares as she walks into my little one-bedroom apartment.

  “Thanks, Lisapoozzle. Sit down, the coffee's been waiting for you,” I say with as much cheer as I can muster.

  “So, did you see him or not?”

  “No, still nothing.” I say, shrugging my shoulders.

  This morning, disappointment finally gave way to anger. Not toward him. Toward myself.

  “See, I was right about him. Men are all the same, Lisa. They all think with their dicks. All of them, no exceptions!”

  I tear the innocent croissant into shreds, stressed at saying the words aloud.

  “I’m so mad at myself, you wouldn't believe it!”

  “Why are you mad at yourself? For sleeping with him?”

  “Yes. Well, no. Because it was... Um, it was pleasant,” I say, in the understatement of the century, certain that it will remain the best sex I’ll ever have until the end of time.

  “So why are you mad at yourself? You had a good time with a gorgeous, sexy guy. Seriously, there’s nothing to be upset about.”

  "Yeah, you're right...”

  I pause for a moment.

  “What I’m mad about is how upset I am by the way he acted. He didn't promise me anything, after all.”

  I think for a few seconds before going on:

  “I hate myself for p
utting myself through such hell over a perfect stranger. I don’t even know his name, can you imagine?” I say, laughing sardonically.

  “Come on, Zoe. It’s normal to react this way. You wanted it to be a fairy-tale, just like everyone else. Don’t deny it. Women today are so proud of their independence and declare from the rooftops that they don’t need a man to be happy... pshht... Nonsense. We’re still primitive beings. We all dream of Prince Charming and I think we’d waste less time if we just admitted it to ourselves!”

  “Hmm, I don't know. I’ve never been a big Disney princess fan, myself.”

  "Yeah, right, Rapunzel.”

  Lisa is her own best audience. As I watch her laugh at her own joke, I smile.

  “What’s wrong with me, Lisa?”

  “Nothing is wrong with you, sweetie. I don’t know what went on in Mister 00S’s head to make him show up like that and jump your bones, but I promise you, nothing is wrong with you,” she says, squeezing my forearm to comfort me.

  “When I think that since Gaspard, I hadn't slept with anyone. And I always told myself I wouldn't jump into bed with the first guy that came along. Well, look what I’ve done! I slept with the first one that came along! And where has it gotten me?”

  “Oh, no... Don’t start with that. Are you seriously going to bring this back around to Gaspard?"

  “We were together for eight years and he threw me aside like a piece of garbage, just like that, after fucking some girl he met at a club. So yeah, we are bringing this back to him!”

  “Cool it, Hothead!”

  “Don’t call me that!” I say, bursting out laughing.

  But it's true that my aggressive side fully justifies the nickname my friends chose to get back at me.

  “You can't move forward if you’re always thinking about what that bastard did to you. Not all men are like him. At least... I hope not.”

  “I loved him so much. And I trusted him...”

  Lisa leaves me alone with my thoughts for a few seconds before continuing the conversation.

  “So, what is different about 00S, why has this affected you so much?”

  “I have no fucking clue,” I admit, biting into the remaining shreds of my croissant.