God & Sinner

12. Intimate Strangers

We were hot and heavy, lips pressed together and consumed in the fire. James' back was laid flush against the door, having had barely enough time to push it closed before I pinned him there. He clearly didn't mind, and his hands traveled almost everywhere they could on my body to pull me closer. There were so many wonderful things about him, and every time we said goodnight I was left feeling a little lonelier than I did before. That was why I hoped we wouldn't say goodbye tonight. We were off to a good start already, and I was sure that he could feel my excitement pressed up against him as we continued.

I had loved getting to spend the evening with him, just as I did most days lately, but I would've been lying if I'd said it wasn't a little disappointing each time he turned me away—especially when we were so close. For a second he pulled back, panting and laughing as if he wanted to say something, but I kissed him again before he had time to elaborate. Maybe I was a bit of a bully in that way, so what, I knew he liked it. That was the spark in our relationship, the dangerous line we walked on either side of. I played his game and he played mine, two worlds colliding to divide somewhere down the middle.

"We should stop, these walls are paper thin," he gave an excuse as he escaped once more, touting one of many he'd tried before. It was his way of indirectly shutting me down, of telling me our time had concluded for now. But I really was a bully, and I let my hands slide down his back and into his jeans, watching his face turn an alluring shade of red as he failed to react. Well, he did react, but it wasn't to tell me no. He wanted to, badly, but overall he was still just a man, like me, and he had needs. Desires. I would fill them.

"Then let's give them a show." My brazen response made his complexion darken, and without another word I picked him up, catching him beneath the legs as our lips locked again. This was good; he was the kind of guy who was quiet, who liked to hide. I was the fair haired devil that wouldn't let him, and he hated how much he liked it. It intoxicated him, and even though he could never catch up, he craved the rush. Our relationship was young in so many ways, but there was something that seemed to fit, that just felt right. That was how I knew he could never go back to standing still.

"It's late, I have to get up early for work tomorrow," he tried again to divert me. It might've worked, had I actually believed what he was saying. Yet his body betrayed what his tongue didn't, and he still grabbed at me, brought me in close, and I could feel his own excitement against me. If I hadn't known any better I would've said that he was afraid, but I'd learned that he was a surprisingly bold person, which made me wonder why he was so resistant. Our relatively short time together had already been filled with more than any other relationship I'd had in the past.

"Well that is a problem, because I plan to take my time." Now my words caused his breath to hitch, and I laid him down on the bed as I popped the first button off his shirt. His eyes told me everything, and I knew that he hadn't connected with anybody as much as he had with me. I thought about all the ways that I'd changed already. I hadn't gotten high in a while because I knew he didn't like it. I also hadn't gotten laid since we'd met, but I was hoping to change that. It seemed weird, why did I let him have that kind of control over me? Why did he let me have it over him?

"Things are moving a little too fast, maybe, I think." James tried hard to be coherent, to produce more intellectual thought and rationale for why we should stop. But it became harder with every second, and it turned me on to see how I was affecting him. It hadn't seemed like enough time had passed for me to care about him like I did, but already I'd told him more about my life than I had ever told anyone. I would've made fun of anybody else who talked about the kind of connection I felt to him, and even though I didn't say it out loud I kind of thought that maybe I loved him.