Page 14 of Going Down

Dash puts the condom on. “Have you ever gotten yourself off so that you don’t come on too strong. Kat?” He leans over me. The latex rubs against my inner thigh and I become aware of how swollen my clit is. “Do you touch yourself in the shower, Sugar, trying to ease the ache? I do.” He nuzzles his favorite spot behind my ear. “Sometimes it works, imagining your pretty little mouth around me. Other times, it feeds into a new fantasy. Ideas of how I can convince you to keep giving me a shot. Ways I can make you want me inside of you.”

This is movie sex. This is soft porn. Guys don’t actually say the shit Dash is saying to push me over the edge. They grunt, blow their load, and pull out without bothering to ask the proverbial “was it as good for you as it was for me?” question. In my experience, most men stumble through thinking they’re doing it right. Rubbing and fingering, and getting your urethra confused with your vagina. Being bruised and sore have more to do with lack of finesse than hours of untamed passion.

Dash moves again and I miss the warmth of his body over mine. The woodstove keeps the small cabin warm, but cool air seeps over my stomach and breasts.

“Do you want me, Kat?” he asks, pulling my lower half closer to his. I watch with rapt attention as he gently brushes the mushroom tip against my clit, making me ache.

“Please.” I squeak, not yet finding a voice able to explain without self-consciousness. Dash has a way of drawing that woman out of me.

“Maybe I’ll reward you with a little.” He pushes inside, stretching me and then pulls out. My slickness coats his tip and he slides it against me. I thrash, trying to get the sensation back, trying to get off on the way his dick rubs near the apex of my sex.

“I could give you everything. If you let me.”

“I want it all.”

“No, you don’t. Not yet anyway. But I’ll give you this.”

He slams home. I scream, coming right away after the anticipation of the invasion of his hard length. Dash grasps my hip with one hand and covers one of mine—still attached to the spindles—with the other to keep them it place.

“Just like that, Kat.” He repeats the phrase like I have the power to snap and have the whole world at my fingertips.

Our bodies move together. Fast and then slow, finding a rhythm that reminds me of the pitter-pat on the trailer’s roof when it storms outside. I’m safe wrapped in Dash’s arms. He wants things for me that I used to want for myself. Experiences I’d be out making sure I got if it weren’t so focused on losing my ideal life and instead of understanding perfection is a series of endlessly flawed minutes stitched together in time that gets woven into something magical.

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7

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Could I get directions to your heart?

We lie in the kind of darkness that only allows you to see in monotone blues. Dash holds me. His breath passes across my ear as he drifts in and out of sleep.

At some point, I fall asleep too and wake staring at the ceiling a few feet above. There is enough light to make out patterns in the knotty wood. I reach up, but can’t quite touch the deeper imperfections. I turn to look for the boards whose cuts may match. There’s only one. The groove doesn’t go as far into the grain.

Dash catches my hand as it falls back to the mattress, bringing it to his lips.

“Thank you for staying. I wasn’t sure you’d be here this morning.” He kisses my temple and moves a braid over my heart like a rope holding the sheet toga to my body.

I sigh. With my car next to Dash’s truck outside, the thought had crossed my mind. There’s no sense lying about it.

“Tell me why you’re so skittish, Kat. It’s obvious you don’t want to be who you are anymore, but that woman’s rooted in you and she’s not going down without a fight. We don’t have a ton of time together and I’d like to make the most of it, stop guessing, and know why.”

I roll to face him, skimming the ravine between his pecs. “Are you like this toward all the girls?”

“Only the ones I like.”

A swift breath leaves me. A lot of women are charmed by Dash’s nature.

He lifts my chin and we make eye contact. “I don’t take all the girls I like to bed.”

“What makes me so darn special?” I imitate his light accent.

“I could ask the same of you. Why are you giving me a chance? Deciding we should sleep together after such a short introduction?”

“Because there’s more to you. You’re not this goofy guy with no direction. You care about the skiers we pull off the mountain. In the beginning, I didn’t think you were out for more than a good time.”

“In general or do you mean fucking, Kat?”

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