i can have her now

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
some sketches brought together into a short story.

Submitted: August 29, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 29, 2016



Warm August nights dragged long. I particularly enjoyed nights at that time. When thoughts become melancholic, the moon is perhaps the best audience. She was waiting to hear me speak, turning her full yellow face right at me, yet she wasn’t the listener I needed.

I could see the light seeping through the slit under Claire’s bedroom door. She was probably taking a shower. No, the water wasn’t running. Maybe putting a face mask on, girls do that. I’ve seen her in several of her pajamas. Some were regular tops and pants, as if she never stopped being in college, others were long gowns with elaborate flower patterns, almost taken from cheap Chinese ceramics, and some were so short and light they hardly seemed appropriate in front of her temporary housemate. I wondered which ones she had on now. Did she wear underwear to bed?

The door slit went completely dark. I shouldn’t wait any longer. It’s hard to say to someone what you feel only the first time. My back wasn’t shivering, like with my previous lover, my hands were not trembling.

“Claire, can I talk to you?” I typed into my phone. My heart was hammering so hard I was afraid others would hear it. The streets were completely desolate and only distant cracking shouts of geese on the lake were disturbing otherwise inaudible air. I pressed to send. The clock in the living room was very loud. Tick, tock, tick, tock… It had never been so deafening. Tick, tock. The clock’s impatient repetitive knocking drummed even through the closed hallway door. Tick. The moon was playing hide and seek behind thick cloud patches. The geese must have flown away or went to sleep. Strange, their wings didn’t make any sound as they rose up from the water surface. Tock. It wasn’t common for the sky to be so densely covered. It didn’t look like it would rain. It never rained.

Yes. Meet me downstairs”. I jumped when the phone buzzed.

Claire descended to the ground floor in a floaty white silk gown. Her hair was undone. From her brisk motions it didn’t seem she had been sleeping. She took my hand and led me to the garage.

— No one can hear us here.—she whispered.—So what do you want to say?

 I… Claire, listen.—words grudgingly extruded out.—From the moment I first met you in the office, I was thinking… ahem… I think you are…

She turned with her head skewed, looking at me from under her forehead. The garage door was open and cold kitchen light shined into the otherwise pitch black space. The gown slipped off of one of Claire’s shoulders revealing more of her skin. Soft dark shadows enveloped her body and emphasized her every curve. She put her hands together below her stomach and slowly stepped towards me, her eyes fixated on mine, her apple-red lips full, teeth slightly exposed. The air must have lost some oxygen, it was hard to breathe. Just a moment ago I could see Claire’s full figure bathing in the lights, and now she was already right in front of me. Her arms like branches wrapping around my shoulders. She pushed her hips against mine and leaned backwards, me barely catching her waist. Like a graceful bird she bent. I couldn’t resist her pull and leaned closer. Closer, closer, and my lips pressed against hers. We curled and spun in a passionate waltz until her back reached the wall. My hands on the cold concrete, I pushed my whole body onto hers and my leg between her legs. She shrieked and caught her voice abruptly.

— I want you—she was blunt.

— Me too.—I mumbled barely comprehensible sounds, kissing her neck.—Where?—It didn’t matter where, my hand was already under her gown.

— Wait. Here.—she jumped off and bounced into the living room, grabbed a pillow and some thin throw from the sofa and flew back.

From the bright light behind her I could only see her silhouette. Black figure on the white backdrop, lamp rays piercing through her tumbled hair in a cold halo. She stepped down from the ridge between the kitchen and the garage and shut the door closed. All of her features gone as we dissolved into darkness.

The blanket fell on the dirty floor, and the pillow landed right next to the car’s wheels. Claire pulled me down to the ground. My eyes did not distinguish a single thing, but I could smell her fragrant skin, I felt her body, heated from excitement. My tongue met hers somewhere in the air, so soft and so, so sweet. I tasted her every part. She twitched from my touches, pulling my pants down with her feet. Such cold feet, sliding down my legs. I fondled her gently with my fingers. They went from her neck, down to her chest, and over her gown, down and down, sneaked under, and to her belly up again, reaching her breasts. She moaned slightly, sensing my grasp. Entangled we turned together, snaking around each other, caressing, blind in the void. She moaned more and more, “Adam” she would whisper, as I would bump her up. Losing control her body bent and twisted under my grip. Her breath got heavy and irregular, she shouted. Loud. She jerked her hand to cover her mouth. I grabbed her harder, squeezed her in my arms. Faster. She groaned, almost biting her palm. Could not make noise. Harder. Her pupils slid under her eyelids. I couldn’t see. She gave off a relieving breath, and we sank on the ground in a steaming embrace.

The air smelled of gasoline and tires. The blanket didn’t protect at all from the hard floor and cold concrete was cooling my back. Claire crawled on top of me, avoiding the freezing ground. I was staring into the darkness but couldn’t find her. Her head was resting on my chest and I could feel her uneven breath on my arm. My eyes would tell me she wasn’t there.

— You are good at this.—her voice was soft. I let it stray around for a bit.

— Thank you, Claire.—She giggled. Why do you thank for intimacy, Daniel? I haven’t been with a woman for a long time.

Time drifted slowly. The floor wasn’t really making it more comfortable. It was time to separate. Speechless we got up and put our clothes back on. Holding her hand, I managed to get to the door and uncovered the bright kitchen. Blinded by the lights, we stumbled inside.

— I need to go.—her hand slipped out from mine, she didn’t look at me and stepped to the stairs. Suddenly turned around, grabbed me again and put us both on the sofa.

— I need to cool off.—she announced.

Her hair was like a bowl of noodles all over her head. Forehead sweating and cheeks still blushing red. I bet I wasn’t looking any better, but to me she seemed the most beautiful this moment. We sat there staring at each other. She didn’t have any particular expression. A bit tired I would say, and maybe sad, a bit lost. What was she thinking? I couldn’t tell. The clock was loud again.

 I don’t want to leave.—Claire said.—but Adam is waiting.

She pushed herself out of the sofa and slowly wandered to the stairs and up, disappeared in her bedroom, and shut the door. Her smell still lingered in the warm air. Did she really wear perfume to sleep? Adam had been waiting for two hours. The thought was both funny and unnerving. He can have her now, until tomorrow.

© Copyright 2018 Darren Buck. All rights reserved.

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