Finding Nora

by Ripley Proserpina

  “No.” He shook his head, bringing her face closer and closer until he could capture her lips. Moving quickly, he grabbed her, dragging her so she straddled him.

  “I’m very much awake right now. His hips flexed, erection rubbing between her legs.

  Head falling back, she rose and fell with each push of his hips into hers. His hands went to her sides, skating her t-shirt up and over her head.

  “I love the way you feel under my hands.”

  She loved having his hands on her. His palms were rough, fingers calloused, but when they moved along her skin, they created a delicious friction that went right to her core. “Don’t stop.”

  He pressed a little harder into her back, raking his fingers along her spine. “Don’t stop this, nae sereang?”

  She melted a little at Seok’s endearment. “Yes.”

  His fingers stopped, the beautiful pressure halting. “Stop?”

  Amusement laced his voice. But she could play the game, too. She reached between their bodies, fingertips delving beneath the loose elastic band of his boxer shorts until her palm cupped the smooth head of his erection. She didn’t grasp him, merely ran her hand back and forth across the tip. Slowly, her fingers curled beneath the mushroomed head, tracing and curling, rubbing and teasing.

  All the time, she kept her eyes open, watching his face. She noticed the way his pupils dilated when her finger pressed against the damp slit, and the way he bit his lip when she finally wrapped her hand around his length and smoothed it down his shaft.

  His body moved against hers. She couldn’t get the friction she needed, but for some reason, watching his face turned her on almost as much as having his hand, or his mouth, on her body. She twisted, firm but gentle, as she pumped him. He made a noise then, and his teeth sunk harder into his lip. Tugging it free, she licked it with the tip of her tongue.

  When he dove for her mouth, she pulled back. “I want to see your face…”

  He groaned, and minutely, she tightened her grip, thumb sweeping over his tip, scooping up some of the dampness to help her hand glide along his sensitive skin. Two spots of red appeared on his cheekbones, blooming outward. Head falling back, his strong throat moved as he swallowed and groaned.

  Leaning forward, she kissed the base of his throat, all the while maintaining her rhythm. “Come on, Seok,” she whispered, smiling against his skin. She didn’t know where her confidence came from.

  Early in their acquaintance, he flashed hot and cold. The same reaction, from one day to the next, could annoy him or amuse him.

  But here, now, watching every unguarded emotion flash across his face, she was fearless. Any touch, any pressure which pleasured him she committed to her memory. She wanted to remember how he gasped when she smoothed her palm over his tip, and groaned when she pumped and twisted her hand.

  Yanking her face to his, he devoured her mouth. She increased her speed, loving the way his tongue tripped over hers, and how he mashed their lips together.

  She did this to him.

  She made him lose sense of everything except feeling good.

  She pushed down on him, at the same time lifting herself onto her knees and pressing her bare breasts against his chest. He groaned again, this time jerking and thrusting into her hand. Slowly, she loosened her grip, barely making contact with his skin as he came down from his orgasm. When he did, he took control of their kiss again. His hands going to her neck, tilting her head. His tongue dipped into her mouth while one hand dropped to her back. With a move that left her dizzy, he spun them both until he could settle over her.

  Drawing his nose along her neck and back up to her ear, he chuckled. “My turn.”

  fourteen

  Interview

  “I’M SO GLAD you changed your mind, Nora.” Dr. Murray smiled at her, clicking the top of his pen and leaning his elbows on his knees.

  He is the definition of interested. With his head canted to one side, his glasses in one hand, the pen in the other, he made the picture of a sensitive doctor.

  “Thank you for your assignment.” He leaned back, waving the paper she’d handed him when she first arrived. “I’ll look at it later and formulate questions for our next session. Today, we’ll be completing two tests. For the first, I’ll be reading you a series of statements. I would ask you answer: agree, disagree, strongly agree, strongly disagree, or are neutral.”

  Interlacing her fingers tightly, she nodded.

  “Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  “It is more important to get along with others than to be right,” he began.

  “Agree.”

  He made a notation, and went on. The questions were varied. They went from how she felt in social situations, “You do not usually initiate conversations,” to her work ethic, “You respond to emails immediately. You cannot stand a messy inbox.”

  She answered honestly, at times saying, “Neutral,” if none of the statements struck her as something she cared about.

  “You rarely do something out of sheer curiosity.”

  “Strongly agree,” she answered, lifting her thumb to her lips.

  “You feel superior to other people.”

  “Strongly disagree.” She nibbled away the tiny hangnail.

  It didn’t take him long to finish. “You’re decisive,” he remarked, putting aside the test and folding his hands together.

  “I suppose so. What did it tell you?”

  “I have to score it. It will give me a description of your personality. Sort of a summary of traits. Extrovert/introvert. Intuitive/observant. Thinking/feeling, etc.”

  “You mean, am I an introvert or an extrovert? Do I make a decision based on my feelings or my observations?”

  “Essentially,” he answered.

  “Will you tell me?”

  “If you’d like.” He stood, crossing over to his desk.

  Today, they were in the basement of Converse Hall. The walls were bright white, and his voice echoed off the cinderblocks. It hurt her eyes to look around, so she tried to look only at Dr. Murray or her hands. Behind him was a two-way mirror, where she suspected his teammates, Nils, Jessica, and Grant, were watching.

  “Is your team watching?”

  “Some.” He took a stack of cards off his desk, glancing quickly over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow. “Does it bother you?”

  “Would it matter if it did?”

  “Of course it matters, Nora. For this session, I could make a video tape for them to view later if you objected strongly to their presence.” He stared for a moment. “Do you?”

  Eventually, she shook her head. “No. It doesn’t bother me when they observe.”

  “But it will bother you when they participate.”

  “I don’t know yet. I don’t…” She stopped herself.

  He sat, tapping the collection of cards on his leg. “Don’t trust us?”

  Blushing, she examined the room rather than answer. She wanted to lie, or paint herself unaffected by his team, but they did bother her, and she didn’t trust them. She didn’t know the reasons they did the things they did, every move they made was suspicious.

  “What’s the next test?” she finally asked.

  “Nice deflection,” he laughed, and held up his cards. “An IQ test.”

  “Oh!” she said, interested despite herself.

  What she thought were cards, were actually a series of pictures he propped on the table. Taking out his phone, he set it up where he could see it. “The first portion of this test is a verbal section, sort of like the SAT. I expect you’ll do well on it. Let’s begin.”

  Hours passed. She answered analogies, informative questions, comprehension questions. Eventually, she completed a timed mathematics test. Someone brought them water, and gum. She was given a bathroom break, and a stretching break, but then it was right back to work.

  Finally, he closed the test and put his pen on top of the form. “You’re finished.”


  Sitting back in the chair, she rubbed her eyes and stretched her neck. There was a soft knock on the door, and Jessica walked in.

  “Hello, Nora.”

  Sitting up straighter, she unconsciously glanced at Dr. Murray before back to Jessica.

  “It’s good to see you again.”

  “Hello,” she answered.

  “I need to take your pulse and blood pressure, please.” She held up a small black case.

  Nodding, she reached for her sleeve and pulled it up over her elbow. Jessica knelt in front of her, placing her fingers on her wrist and examining her watch.

  “40,” she called to Dr. Murray.

  He wrote it down on the paper, his raised eyebrows his only response.

  Next, she wrapped a cuff around Nora’s arm, inflating it so it squeezed her tightly before releasing the pressure with a hiss of air. “110 over 70.”

  “Thank you,” he answered, writing it down as well and leaning back in his chair. Flinging his glasses onto the table between them, he sighed. “I think we’re done, Nora.”

  “Yeah? Okay.” She stood, collecting her bag from the floor and her coat from the back of a chair. “Will you tell me the results?”

  “Of both?” he asked. “Are you worried about the results?”

  She shook her head. The results would have no impact on her life. “I’m just curious.”

  “If you’d like,” he repeated the same answer from earlier. “How do you think you did?”

  “I think I did better on the verbal portion of the test than the performance portion.” She smiled. “But I’m sure it’ll show I’m solidly average.”

  “Most of us are.”

  “Have you signed up for classes?” Jessica asked, standing and putting the pressure cuff away.

  She owed nearly ten thousand dollars to Brownington right now, or at least she did until Dr. Murray called the business office and had a few of those fees removed.

  Still, she’d end up owing the school money, and she didn’t want to be more in debt to them, or to Dr. Murray, than she already was. So she decided to hold off signing up for classes.

  She’d also agreed to live with the guys, a concession she made considering how much they didn’t want her to do the study at all. It made them happy for her to stay with them. Perhaps she should be embracing her independence and fighting harder to maintain it, but the truth was she wanted to stay with them. She reveled in the idea of waking up each morning with them, carpooling, eating dinner, grocery shopping. All the normal, boring relationship things people did when they lived together. She wanted them to get on her nerves, annoy her when they left the toilet seat up and she sat in cold water in the middle of the night.

  Her imagination had run away with her, and she still hadn’t answered the question. “No.”

  “Why not?” Jessica watched her with interest.

  Cynically, she wondered if Jessica cultivated her look of innocence, like she’d wondered earlier about Dr. Murray’s kind face. There was no proof for her suspicions. Yes, they had taken her on a real-life Fast and Furious ride, but they explained to her its purpose. And yes, the study seemed to be designed to keep people in it, loading them down with debt if they quit early, but was any of it mercenary? Maybe Dr. Murray was being smart. He had a study to run. It needed long-term participants, and it wouldn’t work if they abandoned ship willy-nilly.

  The stick and the carrot. He employed both.

  “I couldn’t take them for college credit,” she answered. “And I would owe you too much money should I decide to quit.”

  “You’re not planning on quitting, are you?” Dr. Murray ran his hands through his hair. “Again.”

  Shaking her head, she answered, “But I also don’t plan on owing Brownington ten thousand dollars for nothing.”

  He waved aside her concern. “I’ll call them later. I’m sure I can get them to delete most of the fees. Probably not the room and board though, you may be stuck with that one. Are you sure you don’t want to stay on campus?”

  “I have a place to stay now.”

  He glanced at his watch and she recognized the signs of dismissal. “When do you need me again?”

  “I’m going to score your tests. It may be a week, may be less. Here. I want you to have this.” He handed her a phone.

  “I can’t accept this.”

  “I need to be able to reach you, Nora. It’s a prepaid tracfone. All the participants have one.”

  “I can’t afford it. I have a landline. You can reach me there.”

  “Nora.” he sighed, exchanging a glance with Jessica. “Remember when you agreed to this I told you this study would take precedence over everything. If I need you in here, I need you here. I have to be able to reach you at all times.”

  “Will this be added to my bill?” she asked shortly.

  Dr. Murray took out a notebook, and began scribbling roughly. He ripped out the sheet of paper and handed it to her. Nora Leslie will not incur any debt as a result of accepting this tracfone from Daniel Murray.

  “Okay.” She folded the paper slowly and put it in her jacket pocket before reaching for the phone. “This probably won’t even hold up in court.”

  “Not very trusting,” Jessica remarked.

  “What was it called in your personality test? Thinking? Observant?”

  Dr. Murray laughed and Jessica grimaced. “She’s got you there, Jess.”

  She gave a good-natured shrug. “All right. All right. So we’ll reach you on that phone for your next interview.” She reached for Nora’s hand as if to shake it, but when she gave it to her, Jessica turned it over, placing two fingers against her wrist. “We’ll be discussing relationships and your past,” she informed her.

  Tensing, she tried to pull her arm back, but Jessica wouldn't let her. Rather than play tug of war, she left her hand in the other woman’s. “Wait.” Her eyes got a far-off look in them as she took her pulse.

  “Did it spike?” she asked through clenched teeth when Jessica let her go.

  “A bit.” She smiled. “Something to look forward to. I’d like to be in the interview for those questions. That okay, Daniel?”

  The way Jessica bypassed her so completely set her on edge. “That would be fine,” she said, before Dr. Murray could answer.

  “If it’s all right with Nora, it’s fine with me. Now, I hate to rush you, but I have someone coming in, and I try not to have participants overlap. Confidentiality. Though Tyler has made that moot.” He was annoyed, but not angry. Knowing Tyler, the gregarious, over-zealous teenager, she understood how he inspired both love and irritation.

  “Okay.” She slid the phone into her pocket. “See you.”

  As she walked along the quiet hallway and into the stairwell, exhaustion overtook her. While she hadn’t physically exerted herself, bantering with Jessica and sitting through hours of tests, sapped her energy. Pushing open the door to the main floor, she caught sight of Cai. He was reading the announcements on the cork board, back to her.

  Without planning to, she ran to him, throwing her arms around him, and kissing him noisily on the lips. “What are you doing here?” Seeing him gave her a sudden burst.

  “I asked Tyler how long these interviews take, did some mental math, and walked over. Thought maybe I could take you out to dinner.”

  “Like a date?” Her lips split into a grin.

  “Sort of.” He returned her smile, his eyes crinkling at the sides. “It’ll be you and me, and a bunch of strangers, having dinner.”

  She swept the back of her fingers over the lines near his eyes, amazed he was hers. Threading her fingers through his hair, she drew him down to his mouth, giving him a small kiss. She wanted to go full-on lip devour, but she wasn’t sure how he would respond to such a public display.

  Her unspoken question was answered when he gently sucked her lip into his mouth. His lips covered hers, pulling and pressing until her entire face tingle
d. When his mouth left hers, she tripped, off-balance.

  “It’s sort of a working date.” He tugged her toward the doors. Still in the clouds, she tried to remember what they’d been talking about before he kissed her stupid. She walked a little faster, trying to keep pace with his long-legged strides.

  “Youth center?” she asked, looking forward to returning to his work, a safe place for kids to go when school was over. The one time he’d brought her there, she’d met Tyler.

  A muscle twitched in his jaw. “No,” he said, tightly.

  She stopped him. “Is everything alright?”

  “Kind of,” he said with clenched teeth. “Sort of.”

  “Did you lose your job?”

  “No,” he answered quickly. “It’s not that. Just… other work stuff. It’s not important. Come on.” Clearly, he didn’t want to talk, so she didn't push. He led her to the parking lot, opening the car door for her, and helping her in.

  “You’re such a gentleman, Cai," she observed, purposefully changing the subject. “You have these old-world manners. Makes me feel like a lady.” She rarely felt ladylike.

  He reached for her hand, driving out of the lot. “You are a lady.”

  She snorted, and he chuckled, low and deep. There was something about his voice. God, she loved it.

  “I never noticed before, Cai. You have an accent. It’s a little like Matisse’s. A southern twang, but not as smooth. It’s barely there, and I only heard it in that one word: are. You’re not from Vermont, are you?”

  “Not originally, no.” He shook his head. “My family started out west, but my father moved us to Vermont when I was around ten. To Burton Pond.”

  “In Northern Vermont?” She turned in the seat. “I spent some time there, too! I was right near the Canadian border. I was placed back in Brownington when I was thirteen, but we could have gone to middle school together! How old are you?”

  The air around them seemed to thicken, and the muscle in his jaw jumped. His hand tightened in hers, the knuckles white against his golden skin. She covered his hand with hers, lifting it quickly to her mouth and kissing it lightly.