Saturday, 12:31am
Tabitha's door didn't so much open as it exploded off of its hinges.
The doorstop mounted on her wall caught it and sent it bouncing back to hit a leather-jacket-clad shoulder. The owner of that shoulder let out a muffled growl in response. He roughly repositioned the woman in his arms and swung the door behind them, only just managing to kick it shut with the toe of his boot before she dragged him further into the apartment. Tabitha's hands groped blindly for the walls as they staggered forward in a sort of drunken waltz, and after some time, they finally found the light switch that illuminated her dark hallway. James's fingers scrabbled against the buttons of her jeans. Tabitha wrenched his jacket down his arms. She located another switch—this one lit up the floor lamp near her dresser—just as James began to roll the denim down over her thighs. His leather jacket hit the carpet with the chime of metal buttons and zipper pulls.
The back of her legs hit the mattress, and then James was hauling her up into his arms and reclining her into the comforter. Her jeans were tossed onto the floor behind him without a second thought. One of his hands braced itself on the mattress, and the other one delved beneath her sweater to seek out the fastenings on her bra. Tabitha loosened her hold on his shoulders just long enough to wriggle helpfully out of her sweater, and she felt him smile over her lips in return. Her bra went next, dragged over her arms and dropped over the edge of the bed, but as she reached for the hem of his black thermal shirt, long fingers encircled her wrists and tugged them back above her head.
"Mmmmnf,"
she protested against his mouth, and he raised himself up to fix her with a disoriented stare. He shook his head and dipped back down to consume her in another violent kiss. Tabitha jerked her head to the side to argue, but then his lips were trailing up the side of her neck, and she felt the words dissolve in her throat. His fingers trembled as they tugged her panties down, and she clutched at his shoulders as he inhaled richly against her throat. When he let that breath out, it was with a low groan—a heady note that made Tabitha quiver in her sheets. With an air of reluctance, he detached himself from her neck and made his way slowly down the length of her body.
He took his time. His hands cupped her jaw and slithered lower to toy with her breasts. His lips traveled down her her torso in a trail of maddeningly insubstantial kisses, then slowly enveloped one of her nipples. The other one was captured by his left hand, rolled and tugged until it went stiff between his fingers. He followed the curve of her waist with his palm and kissed down the ladder of her ribcage, pressed his mouth hard into the valley just above her hip bone. When he nipped the skin of her belly, Tabitha uttered a hoarse yelp and pressed her shaking knees together.
He parted her thighs with his hands, and she squirmed with relief when his tongue began to probe curiously; soft and warm and perfectly wet. She felt her calves shudder. His grip tightened on her legs as they began to squeeze shut, keeping her opened for his hungry, eager mouth. She clapped her hands to her mouth to stifle the soft little noises that were escaping her lips, and he opened his mouth fluidly against her, then drew his lips back together to suck slowly at her clit. His eyes were half-shut from languor and those dark irises seemed to roll back into his head as he tasted her. His tongue slid up the length of her lips and lashed her torturously, and a soft moan tore from her chest.
"Oh, God," she practically wailed, her voice muffled pitifully beneath her hands. James wormed two fingers inside of her, and she thrashed as he began to curl them back and forth; steady, but insistent. The sensation sent sparks loose in her stomach, and her hips began to buck with his movements. He drew the sensitive nub in between his lips again, and he slowed the motion of his fingers as she lurched forward and sucked in a shuddering, jerking gasp. Her fingers seized frantic handfuls of his hair, and his eyes seemed to slit with delight as he felt her tighten and throb around his fingers.
"James," she exhaled as a wave of tranquility unwound her muscles. She lolled her head back and loosened her fingers from their vicegrip on his hair. "Oh, James..." He withdrew his hand and sucked lazily at his fingertips. The gesture was terribly reminiscent of their first encounter, and she tore her eyes from him briefly as visions of flashing eyes and blood-smeared lips assaulted her brain.
"Baby girl," he purred. He kissed her thigh and she blinked slowly, a small, dazed smile playing at her lips. As he rolled off of her, she thought she saw his hands twitch on the comforter, but then he was back on her carpet and treading into her hallway.
"Where—" she began as she squirmed back into her underwear, but he held up an impatient hand and vanished behind her door. Beyond it, she heard the faint squeak and click of her bathroom door swinging shut.
When he returned, his shirt was smooth and unwrinkled, his hair was unmussed and a bit sleeker than it had been, and his face bore the clear sheen of skin that had recently been splashed with water. He slumped back into bed next to her and she scooted over to give him room. Tabitha let herself bask in the dreamy, post-orgasmic silence for a few moments before she spoke.
"Sometimes," she said, "I wonder if we're doing this a little too much."
James gave her a sideways glance. "Doing what?"
"You know. Screwing."
"Screwing," he echoed, his face composed save for a slight jerk of his lips. Still, she could see the mirth in his eyes. "Why would you think that?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "I've just never been this comfortable with someone. Before this, I don't even think anyone had seen me topless. And then you come along, and I'm prancing around our apartments naked every other day or so without a second thought."
James's mouth twitched again. "Prancing."
"You know what I mean."
"Mm."
Tabitha swallowed. She knew what she wanted to ask, but wasn't entirely sure how to ask it. "Did...did you want—" she began, but he paused her with a shake of his head.
"Don't worry about me. I enjoyed myself plenty."
"You still don't look so great," she said after a pause. It was true. The shadows under his eyes had deepened in color, and her hand seemed positively Baywatch-tan next to his. She stretched out her index finger to touch one of his knuckles and he flinched a bit. "Haven't you been sleeping at all?"
"It's a new place. I'm still adjusting," he said, closing his eyes and giving her a better view of the bruised hue of his eyelids. She studied them worriedly, and a little frown tugged at her lips. The question that had set up residence in the attic of her brain was on her tongue again, and this time, she knew she needed to know the answer.
"Will you...be moving again anytime soon?" she asked, and those eyelids eased back open, just a little.
"Not soon. But eventually, yes."
Those words drove a swarm of icy needles into her ribcage. "Where are you going next?"
"I was thinking about somewhere north. Maybe Maine. It's supposed to be beautiful in the spring."
Tabitha looked back down at the comforter and swallowed. "Maine," she said. A cool palm enveloped her hand, and when she glanced back up at him, he was smiling.
"Come with me," he said.
She blinked at him. "What?"
"We don't have to plan anything. We'd just save up money—not too much of it, but enough—and hop the next plane. It's easy, if you pack light enough."
"It sounds like we'd be running away," Tabitha said hesitantly.
"We wouldn't be," said James. "We'd just be looking for something new."
"But I'm comfortable here. I have a...a
life
here," she said. That's what it was, wasn't it? A life. She had a roof over her head, a job that she liked, a friend that dragged her out of the apartment on weekends. "Besides," she continued, crossing her arms tightly over her chest, "I've never been there. I don't even know if I'll like it."
James skimmed comforting fingertips over the length of her shoulder, his eyes scrutinizing her thinned lips, the new tension in her spine. Despite the chill of his touch, her skin seared beneath his fingers. "You don't. That's what makes it so exciting."
"Aren't you happy here?"
"Of course I am. But change is good. I need it—everyone does."
"But that's such an extreme length to go to for change," Tabitha stuttered. "Can't you just buy a new wardrobe, or pick up a new hobby, or...or dye your hair?"
This time, his smile showed teeth. "Are you just throwing out ideas, or do you have a color in mind?"
"Stop it."
James chuckled and rooted through his jeans pockets for his phone, but his smile waned when he toggled on the screen. "It's nearly one in the morning. I should go," he said, and Tabitha gave him an exasperated look.
