The Sex Education of M.E. (18 page)

“I’m sorry. That was kind of heavy. Forget I said all that,” I said, with a dismissive wave.

“I’m glad you told me. It explains a lot.” He shifted back in his seat as the waitress approached, and we ordered burgers, as if I hadn’t said a thing. The direction of our conversation shifted to more casual conversation, like my work and the girls. Nerves made me talk too much. Merek wasn’t interrupting me, but he wasn’t offering anything about himself, either. While it seemed the natural course of conversation would allow for Merek to speak next, he didn’t. In fact, he was very vague about his work, saying he worked for the city, which could be any number of jobs. He never talked of old loves or even current flings, and it left me wondering again about his kissing denial. He didn’t mention children.

When we finished our lunch, he reached for my hand and we walked toward Lincoln Park Zoo. Stopping inside the gates, he sheepishly asked if I’d like to walk around the zoo, not just through it.

“Like a date?” I blurted out, startling myself.

“I…”

“Oh my gosh, forget I said that,” I laughed. Of course, it wasn’t a date. It was a bike ride that turned into lunch, and now a walk through the zoo. It wasn’t a date. We weren’t even friends. We were fuck buddies, but I was suddenly confused. My eyebrows pinched in question, and then I shook my head.

“I’d love to walk around the zoo,” I said, attempting to brush off my awkward reaction. “I haven’t been here in years.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I smiled and Merek placed his hand on the small of my back, leading me through the landmark city zoo. We watched the lion yawn, the tigers pace, and the gorillas scratch one another. We circled the llamas and the zebras, doubling back to see the seals and find the polar bear. It wasn’t a terribly large zoo, but I remembered days of visiting with the girls, nights of summer concerts, and even a Zoolights visit one Christmas. That was all a distant memory.

Merek was attentive as we walked, alternating between holding my hand or rubbing my back. In fact, he was in constant contact with my body, and I enjoyed each touch. Subtle and tender, it was a slow burn to greater possibilities with him, and I treasured the day. I also prayed I’d get another night with him.

The girls wouldn’t be home until four, but Merek said he had a thing that evening. It was almost three, and it didn’t appear there was time to head to his place. In broad daylight, we couldn’t use the van, and I was too shy to suggest such a thing, regardless of my growing sexual bravado. Last night I’d certainly taken what I wanted, and Merek let me. The thought warmed me. I suddenly wanted him. Like immediately.

“Do you need to be home when the girls get home?” I asked, brushing back a stray hair, like I’d done all day. A soft gasp would escape her, similar to when we were joined together, letting me know she liked the tender touches. I liked how she leaned into each caress, like she didn’t want it to end, or didn’t want me to let her go.

“I could text Mitzi and say I’d be home a little later, but I thought you had something to do?”

I had work, but I was willing to be late. The need for her had been growing all day and when she told me about her husband, whose ass I wanted to kick despite his death, I wasn’t ready to let her go. When she discussed feeling lost, like pieces of her were missing, it sparked a flame long extinguished inside me. My heart flickered. I understood what she meant.

“I do have something, but I could be a little late, too.” I stroked down her neck as we stood in the late afternoon sunlight. “Emme, can I ask you to come to the apartment?”

Her breath hitched in that way she had, and it was the ignition to my dick, which had been standing at attention on and off all day. Watching her ass while she pedaled her bike, then hearing her sad story, and finally, touching her throughout the walk in the zoo, sent me into all kinds of overdrive. I wasn’t going to be able to wait a few nights to be inside her again. I wanted her. Now.

She nodded slowly, letting my hand continue to caress the nape of her neck, and my thumb rub up her throat.

“I’d love for us to ride together,” I said. “But it’s best that you follow me, okay?”

She nodded again, breathless, and I felt her swallow under my fingers. My mouth wanted to take hers, but it didn’t seem right. I’d held off for so long. I wasn’t giving in, even though I wanted her. She’d been hurt, and I didn’t want to lead her in a direction I couldn’t go. We couldn’t be any more than we were, and yet, we were becoming friends. It frightened me. It would make things all the harder if we got too close, and I decided right then and there that I’d take one more afternoon. Then I’d end things. Her confession about her husband was a cry for something more, and I didn’t have it in me to give.

She followed my directions, and pulled up behind the garage in the alley instead of trying to find a space on the street out front. We walked through the backyard and up the back porch stairs to the second floor. Entering the apartment, I was ready to take her against the wall like I had wanted the other night, but I stalled when I noticed the suitcase just inside the door.

“Marshall,” I called out, dropping Emme’s hand.

“Dude, clean up after your…” Marshall stopped in his tracks as he entered the kitchen where Emme and I stood just inside the backdoor. Marshall held Emme’s light blue panties in his hand.

“I thought you’d be gone,” I said, pissed that he was still home, and I’d been caught bringing Emme here. I snatched her undies from his twirling finger.

“I’m leaving now, but hellllloooo….” Marshall’s eyes rolled up and down the length of Emme. This pissed me off more and I stepped in front of her.

“Is this…” Marshall paused, raising his eyebrow in recognition.

“Mary Elizabeth Peters.” I introduced her. Marshall leaned forward, reaching out his hand while Emme stepped around me. “Emme,” she offered as they shook. Of course, Marshall lingered a bit too long.

“Okay, Casanova, let her go.”

“How can you?” he responded, insinuating what I’d already planned to do. I couldn’t be committed to someone. I’d already tried before. Marshall’s appreciative smile continued to fuel my growing anger. He was such a flirt, and with obvious intention. He would steal Emme from me, if he thought he could. As I watched her blush sweetly, I realized she would fall for someone like Marshall, suave, ridiculously rich, and unable to commit to a woman. Hello, pot calling the kettle black.

“Here for a little afternoon delight?” Marshall asked, crudely, lifting his eyebrows up and down suggestively.

“Don’t you have a cab waiting for you?”

Marshall glanced at his expensive watch, and clapped his hands once before reaching for his suitcase.

“Too bad, I do. I’d love a three-way.”

That was all it took. I stepped forward ready to clock my brother, like I had so many times when we were punk kids.

“Fuck off, Marshall.”

“That’s enough,” Emme said, reaching for my elbow, attempting to drag me back. Marshall smirked.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, smug, his brow rising in a knowing fashion. I don’t know what he thought he knew, but I wanted him to leave. His demeanor changed and he straightened up with his suitcase in hand. “I apologize, Emme. It was a pleasure to meet you.” He nodded in my direction, but I didn’t miss the twist of his lip, like he knew a secret.

“Oh, and Merek, I’ll take front row bleacher seats. September will be the perfect month. Go Cubbies.” He winked at me, and again, the temptation to deck him rippled through me.

After I heard the soft click of the front door, I turned to Emme, whose eyes were wide.

“You’re going to a Cubs game?” Her eyes alight with surprise. Ignoring her question and my brother’s implication of our bet, I changed the subject.

“I’m sorry about that. He just killed it, didn’t he?”

“Killed what?” she said, smiling softly, and I reached for her. My hands cupped her cheek and my mouth came close to hers.

“Kiss me,” she demanded sweetly.

“Make love to me,” I countered. Her soft gasp was all the answer I needed before I dragged her to the bedroom. Our clothes were removed in haste, but once I laid her down, I took my time to draw over her skin, which smelled of sunshine and sweat. She was salty from our bike ride and walk in the heat of the zoo, but I savored each lick of her. From neck to clit, I sucked her clean, then entered her slowly. I worshipped her like I thought she deserved, dragging out the lazy pleasure of sex. It wasn’t fast or frantic, and her sweet sighs encouraged me to linger. I pulled to the entrance of her, then pressed forward, one ridge at a time. Her wet channel welcomed me, as her thighs spread wide and her ankles wrapped around my lower back. Her hands stretched above her head like a sluggish cat and she gripped the head board, holding tight. She let me glide in and out of her. Preventing herself from touching me intensified the longing, and she opened enough that I filled her to the hilt. Taking it slow, she held me tight and her inner muscles clenched around me, drawing me deeper.

“Emme,” I strained. She felt so amazing wrapped around me, delaying the release. “Emme, I can’t last.” I warned. She removed one hand from the head board and dragged it down her body. My eyes watched the path she drew. She paused at the mound of dark hair, her fingers hesitantly twirling through it.

“Touch yourself,” I whispered, willing her to take the risk. I sucked in a breath as her fingers glossed over herself while I entered her.

“That’s…so hot,” I gasped, watching her touch herself while I slipped inside her. I was so fucking hard, I needed to burst, but I wasn’t going until she went, especially when she was doing what I asked her to do.

“Merek,” her voice hitched. “Merek,” she cried out again. “Merek!” she screamed, and I slammed into her, feeling my release the instant she squeezed around me. Despite the daylight, I saw stars, and I collapsed on top of her, trapping her arm between us.

“Emme, I…” I didn’t know what to say. Marshall’s words haunted me.
How could I let her go?

“I know,” she said. “You need to go, don’t you?” I did, but it wasn’t what she thought. I suddenly wanted to tell her everything like she’d been open with me this afternoon, but there wasn’t time. I pulled out of her, and saw her shut down before me. It was a reminder that I needed to walk away, when I didn’t know how.

It had been over a week since my day with Merek. I couldn’t call it a date. It can’t be considered a date when he doesn’t call, right? I didn’t have the heart to tell Gia that I’d failed. I’d failed at up-keeping the relationship of not having a relationship. I told him too much, and I scared him away. It was that simple. I hadn’t dated in twenty plus years and I still recognized when too much was shared.

“Gia, he isn’t going to call,” I told her on the phone. “It’s fine.” I lied.
Fine
, a word he didn’t allow to describe how things were between us. It hadn’t ever been fine, it had been amazing, eye-opening, enlightening. I’d never experienced anything like it, especially the last time we were together. The way he took his time. The way he dragged it out. It was lazy and raw, and on some deeper level, I thought we connected. It wasn’t how much he filled me, as much as I thought he
felt
me. He felt my insides: the beat of my heart, the warmth of me holding him, the oxygen I breathed. But that was me, reading too many books about romance, which didn’t exist in real life.

“I said too many things,” I added.

Her breath caught. “Oh my God, did you tell him you loved him?” I could picture her covering her mouth in horror.

“What? No,” I gasped. “No, of course not.”

“Okay,” her voice lowered then hitched again. “You told him he had a small penis.” The horror again.

“No,” I laughed despite not feeling jovial. “No, nothing like that, either.”

“He has a huge one, doesn’t he?” she teased.

“Gia…” I warned, not wishing to share my intelligence about the size of his private parts.

“Okay, okay. Don’t worry. He’s going to call. Maybe … maybe he just has something going on,” she stuttered, recognizing the truth. She’d been with enough men to know the signs. A week without contact was too long.