A Reason to Say No
“Is there any reason we shouldn’t be doing this?” she asked.
“Would you prefer if there was?”
She didn’t need to say anything for me to know the answer. I pulled her to me–an arm around the small of her back–and I kissed her with forceful hesitation.
“What is it?” She sounded nervous and hopeful at the same time. I stepped back and returned the strap to her shoulder so the fabric of her shirt once again covered her breasts. She looked down as I held the zipper of her jeans between my fingers. It was half open with just a hint of pink showing beneath. I slid it up until it clicked.
“I’m not sure if…”
“Please,” she said, cutting me off before I could finish. I turned my back to her, and I could hear longing pour from her joints and muscles.
“Close your eyes,” I told her as I stared at the torn poster on her wall.
I eventually turned back to see her hands crossed in front of her, and her lashes so tightly closed they let in no light.
“Maybe like this. Maybe if you can keep them closed it will be ok. Can you promise?”
“I can try,” she whispered, as my fingers once again played with the strap on her shoulder. I slid it down until the fabric caught her nipple, unwilling to uncover more.
“Promise.”
Her lip quivered but she said nothing. She was honest if not obedient.
I picked up my coat from the chair and placed my hat back on my head. She watched in trembling silence, determined to say nothing. When I reached the door I heard it: a soft voice full of spite and need, mixed into a perfect cocktail.
“I promise.”