by Laura Leone
He gritted his teeth and lifted the aching foot he had just smashed into something lying on the floor. Why the hell couldn't Sara put things away once in a while?
He turned on a light to see what had attacked him. It was a laser printer. He remembered that a writer who didn't need it anymore had given it to Sara the other day as a back-up machine, since her own printer was so old.
"And the middle of the living room floor is such a good place to leave it, Sara," he muttered.
"Who is that?" she called anxiously from the bedroom.
"Who do you think?" he snapped at her.
As he made his way past the front door and down the hall, he saw a light go on in her bedroom. He paused when he reached the doorway. She was sitting up in bed and putting on her glasses. Her hair was in a pony tail and she wore crimson pajamas made out of some silky material.
"Ryan." She looked groggy and a little confused.
"Well, at least one of us didn't have any trouble getting to sleep," he grumbled, coming forward.
"I did." She put a hand on her forehead. "So I took something."
He paused. "What did you take?"
She waved away his question. "Just some homeopathic thing that Delia gave me a while ago. You remember my friend, Delia? From the party?"
"Yeah, I remember."
"Homeopathic," Sara repeated. "I didn't really think it would do anything." She shook her head as if trying to clear it.
"Oh, don't bother trying to wake up." Tired and annoyed, he put a knee on her bed. "Just move over."
"What?"
"Move over." He scowled at her.
"What are you doing here?"
"For fuck's sake, Sara, would you just make some room in the bed for me?"
"But... um..." She looked around in confusion. "Do you think we should..."
"Should what?" When she just looked at him, he challenged, "Should do what? Sleep together?"
"Can you get me a glass of water?"
He closed his eyes for a moment. "Okay."
When he came back from the kitchen, he sat down on the edge of the bed and waited while she drank her water. Then she scrubbed her hands over her face, adjusted her glasses, and gave herself a brief shake.
So much for the dramatic quarrel he'd been planning.
She looked at him, clearly feeling more like herself now, and said, "Okay. We have to talk."
"Yes. We do." He looked at the floor and let his shoulders slump. "You can't do this to me, Sara."
"I don't want to—"
"I'm not just a hired boy you can fuck and forget."
"Ryan."
"I'm your lover, goddamn it. You don't get to count your orgasms and then just go home."
"That's not what happened!"
"That's exactly what happened."
"No, what happened is that your pimp called—"
"You knew what I was."
"—and five minutes after you'd been on top of me—"
"You knew everything about me."
"—you were answering her tug on your leash—"
"And you wanted me, anyhow."
"—to go have sex with another woman!"
He raised his voice. "But now that you've had enough sex to keep you happy for while—"
"Don't you dare—"
"—you're back to thinking—"
"—accuse me of using you sexually!"
"—that I'm not good enough to touch you!"
She gaped at him. "I have never— You know I don't... What are you..." Her dark brows swooped into a furious frown, and she looked as if she wanted to slug him.
So when she lunged for him, he flinched in surprise and tried to get out of the way. She flung herself against him and used all her weight to shove him onto his back. Startled, he sprawled across the bed, then struggled to sit up again. "Sara—"
She kissed him, and he went very still.
Her mouth was warm and generous, and her breath was soft on his cheek. Her legs slid against his as she sought a less awkward position. After a moment of stunned immobility, he started kissing her back, snared by her passion and drawn into the flame. He forgot about the additional furious accusations he'd been so eager to hurl at her.
She made an impatient sound and stopped kissing him just long enough to take off her glasses and toss them aside, and then she was all over him again. Her hands stroked his shoulders and his arms, then slid under his T-shirt to caress his stomach and his chest. Her tongue sought his, gentle and sweet, and her legs squeezed him affectionately as they bracketed his hips.
He wrapped his arms around her, his eyes closed, his head spinning. He could drown in her. He could go under forever, just like this, and die happy, without a fight. He shifted his hips, snuggling against her, trying to get even closer to her as they continued kissing, their clinging lips making up for the angry words they had uttered moments ago.
She sought his hands with her own, laced her fingers with his, and raised their joined fists to rest on either side of his head. Then she pulled away from his kisses to look at him. They gazed into each other's eyes for a long moment, both of them breathing fast now.
Finally Sara said, "Okay. Are you done now?"
He nodded.
"You're sure?"
He nodded again.
"So we can actually talk now? Instead of you just flinging your insecurities around the room?"
He was startled into a puff of laughter. "Yes. We can talk now. I'm done."
"Good."
"Sorry."
"That's okay. I guess you were pretty wound up."
"Uh-huh."
"You were spoiling for a fight."
"I sure was." He squeezed her hands gently. "I was hurt when you just left like that."
"I know. I'm sorry. But I had to leave. I was so angry, I couldn't even speak. I needed a little space. Time to clear my head. I had to think. Because this is too important for me to—"
"But you knew, Sara. You knew when you went to bed with me—"
"I love you," she said. "You know that, don't you?"
He nodded, still holding her gaze.
"I will never think that you aren't good enough to touch me." When he didn't say anything, she asked, "Do you believe me?" He just looked at her uncertainly, and she sighed. "You don't believe me, do you?"
"I don't think you're lying," he hedged.
She tried to pull her hands away from his. "Can I let go of you now?"
"No." He held her fast.
"You said you were ready to talk sensibly."
"I'm not ready for you to stop touching me."
"I don't want to stop, but, uh..." She nudged her hips against his. "I can feel what's happening down there—again—and it's distracting me. Man, you really are well under thirty."
He loosed his grip on her hands. "Okay, yeah, if I'm going to concentrate on talking, I guess you should get off me."
She rolled off his body, found her glasses, and put them back on as she arranged herself to sit cross-legged next to him. He stayed lying on his back and stared at the ceiling.
She began, "I don't think I can ever really understand your attitude about sex, your attitude about what you do. But I trust you when you say you feel differently about me—"
"I love you."
"—than you do about the other women you have sex with."
He turned his head to look at her. "Don't bring them in here. Not into your... our bed, Sara."
"I believed you when you said that sex with me would mean something to you—"
"It does!"
"—and that it would be different with me than it is with anyone else."
"It is." He rolled towards her and rested his arm on her leg. "Jesus, Sara, how can you not know that? Do you think I ever give myself up the way I did with you tonight?"
"I just want to be clear about this. I want you to know, it's not that I doubt you. If you tell me that what you do with other women means something totally different to you than what you do wit
h me, I believe you."
"What I do with Catherine's clients doesn't mean anything to me." He hauled himself upright and sat opposite her, his legs touching hers. "Hell, it didn't mean anything to me the last dozen times I did it with Catherine, either. By then it was just..." He shrugged. "...habit."
"So even if it looks the same, I believe you when—"
"It doesn't, Sara. I thought it would, but that's because I didn't know any better." He held her gaze. "Do you think that with anybody else—with a paying customer, for chrissake—I ask for what I want in bed, and say when I'm too tired to do it again, and just lie there in a sweaty, panting heap on top of a woman because I know she loves me and will overlook the lack of finesse?"
"You didn't lack finesse."
"Well, then, that's where you don't know any better." He took her hand in his. "Do you think I ever tremble and get clumsy, beg and lose my head during sex with anyone but you? I don't. When I was seventeen, Catherine started making sex my job. Ever since then, even when I've done it for fun, that's been my way. I stay in control, I keep my head, I'm slick. Exactly the way she taught me." He held her hand against his cheek. "But I don't do that with you. I don't want to. When I'm with you, I just want the free-fall that any other guy in love wants. I just get lost in you the way... the way you get lost in me." They gazed at each other in tender silence for a moment, and then he leaned forward, longing to kiss her.
But she put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "I believe you, Ryan. But, even so, I can't share you. Not with Catherine, not with clients, not with anyone. Not like that."
He let his breath out and lowered his head. "You're talking about me quitting."
"Yes." When he didn't respond, she said, "Why did she call you so late?"
"Oh. One of the escorts got arrested. Drugs." He added, "He wasn't on the job. He was just in some club. On his own time. Being a jerk. He did some property damage, too."
"Was it that guy who set you up for an arrest and then fought with you?"
"Derrick? No. He's an idiot, but he doesn't do drugs. No, this was a new guy. Trevor. I don't really know him. He's only been around a few months." Ryan tilted his head. "Long enough, though."
"For what?"
"He's trying to get the D.A. to let him off by telling the cops everything he knows about Catherine's business."
"Will that get her in trouble?"
"Maybe. It's drawing attention to her, anyhow, and attention is bad for someone like her."
"Will this get you into trouble?"
"It depends."
"Is that why she was calling you?"
"Oh. No." He knew how Sara would react, but he wouldn't lie to her. "She was calling to tell me I have to take over a job that Trevor was supposed to do."
"Oh, good grief!"
He said nothing.
Sara's eyes narrowed. "Tomorrow?" When he didn't immediately answer, she said, "Of course. Why else would she call so late at night?"
"Yeah. Starting tomorrow. I have to go meet someone at the airport."
"Don't go."
"Sara..."
"Ryan, I can't stand you doing this to me. I can't stand you doing this to us."
"It's not about us."
"It is now, Ryan. There's not just you, anymore. There's me, too, and I can't stand this."
"I understand, but—"
"But what I can't stand most of all is what you're doing to yourself. I cannot bear to see you treating the person I love most in the world—"
"Sara." He tried to touch her cheek, but she evaded him.
"—like a commodity, like a thing, like a— a—"
"Whore?"
"Yes!" They stared at each other for a moment, then she said, "Kevin is an expensive whore with a police record. But you're the bravest, strongest, most wonderful man I've ever known."
His heart started thudding heavily against his ribcage, as if trying to escape his body and go to her.
"I want to spend the rest of my life with you," she said. "If you want that, too..."
"The rest of our lives together?" He felt a little dizzy.
"Yes."
"Is that really what you want?"
She nodded. "More than I want anything. Even more than I want to sell another book. Even more than I want to write another book. I want to wake up every day with you."
He just stared at her and listened to his heartbeat. He felt a bit like he was floating. Then, finally, he realized the she was waiting for him to say something.
"You have to let me put my arms around you," he whispered, reaching for her.
He dragged her onto his lap and she came willingly. He kissed her, hard at first, then more gently. Then he buried his face in her neck and asked, "Are we really going to do that? Spend our lives together?"
She stroked his hair. "Only if you quit. That's what I needed time alone to think about after I left tonight. Whether it was worth it to me. To give you an ultimatum. To draw the line and honor it."
He lifted his head and looked into her dark eyes.
She said, "I love you, I believe in you, and I will give you the rest of my life. But you have to quit. If you don't, what kind of life can we have together? 'Hi, honey! I'm home from my trip to the island, where I did a three-way with two other women.'" He closed his eyes. She continued, "Will you have to skip dinner with me because you've got a date with another woman? When you come home to me, will you have to shower off the smell of sex with someone else before you touch me?"
"Shh." He opened his eyes. "Don't keep talking about it."
She nodded. "We can't go forward if you don't quit. And since we can't go back..."
"Yes?"
"If you don't quit..." She paused and made an obvious effort to control her voice. "Then one of us moves out of this building, as soon as possible, and we agree not to see each other anymore."
"What? Sara! No! What are you talking about?"
"We tried being just friends. It wasn't enough. After tonight, it'll never be enough for me." She put her hand on his cheek. "I want you to be my lover. My partner. I guess I want you to be my husband."
"Husband?" She would marry him? Knowing what she knew?
"But whatever we decide, I can't keep sleeping alone while you keep sleeping right next door. I can't bear that anymore. Not after tonight."
"No, I can't, either."
"So you either sleep with me from now on, or else I don't even want to know where your bed is anymore." She took a breath. "Which means, either you decide that I'm the only woman you'll ever have sex with again, or else you decide that you'll never have sex with me again."
He just stared at her, his blood roaring in his ears as he realized she meant it. He had to leave the life or else give her up completely.
He tightened his hold on her, clinging to her solid form as he felt the world shifting around him. "I can't give you up. I tried. I couldn't do it before. And I sure as hell can't do it after tonight."
"Then you have to break with Catherine," she said quietly.
He lowered his head to rest his forehead against her shoulder. "She saved my life."
"You've given her ten years of it, Ryan. That's enough. More than she should have taken."
"I'd have gone to prison two years ago if it weren't for her."
"But you'd probably be out of prison by now, free to live your own life. So she's gotten her time out of you."
His stomach churned as he held onto her and considered her words. After a while, he said, "This is it, isn't it? The rest of my life. I'm standing at the crossroads, and everything that comes after this will be because of which way I turn now."
"Well, I wasn't going to spring this on you in the middle of the night," she said. "I thought we'd talk tomorrow. That's why I was trying to get some sleep. So my head would be clear when I saw you." She added wryly, "But then you came bursting in here in at three o'clock in the morning, looking for a fight."
"Sorry about that."
She kissed his hair. "Lo
ok, think it over for a day or—"
"No." He felt her stiffen in his arms, and he lifted his head. "I mean, no, I don't need a day or two." It was suddenly so clear to him, he couldn't understand why it had seemed like such an impenetrable maze until this moment. "Choosing a life with you, or else giving you up so I can keep whoring for Catherine?" He took her face between his hands. "I don't need more time to think. I know what I want."
Her eyes started to get misty. "Are you sure?"
"Yes." They kissed, and then he hugged her, rocking her in his arms as they laughed together, giddy with relief and new-born excitement. "I'm sure. I'm so sure, I've already forgotten why this seemed like such a big decision."
She tightened her arms around him as he pressed his face into the silky fabric covering her breasts. "Big decisions are always like that," she said. "I can't remember why it was so hard to decide to sleep with you. But I know I agonized about it over and over."
"My God, I'm quitting." He was amazed at the prospect.
"And becoming monogamous," she said pointedly.
"Monogamous, yes. But not celibate." He pulled her silky top over her head and then lowered her into the pillows.
"You'll tell her right away?"
He took off his T-shirt. "Yes. I will."
"First thing tomorrow?" Her breath caught as he bent to kiss both her breasts.
"No." He started peeling her pajamas down her hips and over her legs. "First thing tomorrow, woman, I get all the sex I want, any way I want it."
"Well, I suppose just this once..." She laughed when he pinched her.
He tossed her pajamas aside. "After that, we're having a really big breakfast." He shouldered his way between her thighs and pressed an open-mouthed kiss on her stomach. "And then I'll go quit my job."
"Sounds like..." She gasped when he licked the crease of her thigh. "...like a plan."
He turned his head, nuzzled the dark curls he found there, and decided he wasn't interested in further conversation right now.
"Ryan?"
"Hmmm?" He pressed a quick kiss between her legs.
"I don't have..." She gasped when he kissed her there again, much less chastely this time.
"Have what?" He blew softly on her sensitive flesh and ignored the restless shifting of her legs.
"Um..."
"What don't you have?" he asked.
"C... Oh. Con... Condoms."