Page 11 of Before You Say Goodbye

What was happening to her? She was ashamed to admit she would typically be irritated by dramatics like these, but she felt concerned for Bowie and didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable around her.

“Get into bed with me?” he asked.

She nodded, thought about taking her clothes off, remembered she didn’t want to pressure him, then slipped beneath her flowery bedspread fully clothed, shuffling as close to him as she could get. They lay side by side, wrapped in her floral duvet, staring at each other.

“Everything you do is so sexy,” he said. It didn’t seem like the kind of thing he would normally say, but she could tell he was being sincere. She smiled shyly.

“I don’t do it on purpose.”

“Yes, you do.” He called her out. She giggled, then blushed. Despite her confidence, she wasn’t used to people looking her in the face for so long.

“I like your freckles,” he said.

“I like your eyes,” she replied.

“I like your nose,” he said.

“I like your mouth,” she replied.

“I like your hair,” he said.

“I likeyourhair,” she replied.

They were silent for a minute or so, his fingertips drifting seductively over the bare skin of her neck.

“This is so stupid,” he whispered. He was staring at her as though she was the best thing he’d ever seen.

“I know,” she said. She wasn’t quite sure which bit of ‘this’ he was referring to: his shyness, the intensity of what they werefeeling, or a familiarity neither could explain. To her, all of it was stupid. They should be having sex by now.

He shuffled closer and kissed her with a level of tenderness she was not expecting. She resisted the urge to press her mouth more firmly into his. Autumn had never desired a man like this before. She knew she needed to move slowly. Bowie was nervous and needed to lead this. Her patience paid off as a few moments later, he moved himself on top of her and back between her legs, but he didn’t try to take her clothes off. Instead he wrapped his arms around her back, so that every part of him was touching every part of her, and kissed her mouth for the longest time, then her neck, then her collarbone, so gently she wasn’t sure if it was his lips or his breath she was feeling against her skin. For someone who did not do this very often, Bowie knew what he was doing. She shuddered in anticipation and felt him smile in response.

“Tease,” she said. He laughed and it broke the ice. Until then she’d been frozen rigid, afraid anything she did might scare him away. Now, she let her hands wander across his chest and torso. When he did not object, she pushed him up onto his knees and pulled his T-shirt up over his head. His arms moved across his torso to protect her gaze from the scar he was so obviously self-conscious about, a scar she had forgotten existed until now. It was large. She didn’t know anything about operations, but she knew a scar like that didn’t come from insignificant situations. She guessed there had been an accident. Perhaps even a transplant. She could see now why it made him feel self-conscious. She bet there’d been women who’d lost interest in him because of it. She was ashamed to admit to herself that, had Bowie been any other man, she might have been one of them.

Pained by his uncertainty, she sat up.

“Don’t do that, Bowie,” she whispered, touching her fingertips to his cheek. “You’re beautiful.”

When he didn’t move, she took hold of his wrists and pulled them gently away from his stomach. He resisted at first, then relaxed. She pulled him back on top of her and ran her hands to the button on his jeans, gently rocking herself against the weight of him and moaning when his erection hit her knickers.

There was no stopping him then. He ripped the rest of their clothes off, with no further hint of shame. She was about to stop him charging into her body to talk about protection when he took it upon himself.

“Tell me you have a condom,” he said.

“In the drawer beside the bed.”

He nodded, moving to retrieve one. Whilst he did what he needed to do, Autumn found herself inexplicably reassured by the fact he clearly didn’t have one himself. Perhaps he was telling her the truth, maybe he really didn’t do this very often. That felt important to her not because she would ever judge anyone for having sex often, but because it suddenly felt really important to her he hadn’t lied about it. She wasn’t sure why.

She was so busy ruminating that she missed him putting it on, and he was suddenly inside her. He was big and it took her by surprise. Autumn whimpered with pleasure. He lifted his head from the pillow beside her head.

“Are you OK?” he whispered. He sounded alarmed by her reaction. “I mean . . . I’m sorry, is this OK?”

She was breathless in her reply.

“Yes.”

This first time was quick and ugly. They bit and scratched one another, until she came and he followed. The second time was sweeter and gentler. He stroked her hair and kissed her, no teeth this time. By the third time, they were sleepy and satisfied, but thoroughly relaxed with one another. The sex was slow and punctuated with conversation. It ended with her orgasm butwithout his when he said he could no longer keep his eyes open. He held her to him and quickly fell asleep.

Autumn lay beside him, staring at his sleeping face with an earnestness that might alarm him if he caught her. She felt like she might be in trouble.

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