First to Die

Chapter

I DON'T KNOW HOW we got all the way to my apartment in the Potrero. I don't know how Chris and I talked and drove and ignored what was tearing at us inside. Once we got through my door, there was no stopping it. I was all over Chris; he was all over me. We only got as far as the rug in the foyer, kissing, touching, fumbling for buttons and zippers, breathing loudly. I had forgotten how good it was to be held, to be desired by somebody I wanted, too. Once we touched, we knew enough to take our time. We both wanted it to last. Chris had what I needed more than anything else, soft hands. I loved kissing him, loved his touch, his gentleness, then his roughness, the simple fact that he was concerned about my pleasure as much as his own. You never know until you try it out- but I loved being with Chris. I absolutely loved it. I know it's a cliche, but that night I made love as if it might never happen again. I felt Chris's current, warming me, electrifying- from my womb to my thighs to the tips of my fingers and my toes. His grasp was all that held me together, kept me from breaking apart. I felt a trust for him that was unquestioning. I held nothing back. I gave myself to Chris in a way I never had to anyone before. Not only with my body and my heart; these were things I could pull back. I gave him my hope that I could still live. When I cried out, tremors exploding inside me, my fingers and toes stiff with joy, a voice inside me whispered what I knew was true. I gave him everything. He gave it back. Finally, Chris pulled off me. We were both tingling, still on fire. "What?" I gasped for breath. "Now what?" He looked at me and smiled. "I want to see the bedroom."