Chapter 20: The Chair

"I want to kiss you," Sullivan said.

He said it quietly, with his hand still on the collar of the jacket on my shoulders.

The garage light flickered once over his face.

"That's one."

"That's the one I can say."

I took a step, and the concrete was cold under my stockings.

I had not been kissed by anyone but Calvin since I was twenty-three.

It occurred to me that I should be afraid, and I was not.

"Then do it," I said.

He bent his head slowly, giving me every second to turn away.

I did not.

His mouth was warm, and careful for exactly one breath.

Then I took the front of his shirt in my fist and pulled, and the care went out of him all at once.

He kissed me hard.

He backed me against the car door.

The metal was cold through my dress, and his body was hot against the front of it.

His hand went into my hair and tipped my head back.

His tongue found mine, and I heard the sound I made and did not stop it.

I slid my hands up the back of his shirt and felt the muscle under it.

He groaned against my mouth.

"Sonya."

"Don't stop."

"I'm not stopping." His forehead came down against mine. His breath was ragged. "I'm trying to remember I'm in a parking garage."

"I don't care."

"I know." He kissed my jaw, once, below the ear, and I gripped his shoulders to stay on my feet. "I do."

My phone rang in the clutch on the car roof.

We both froze.

It was a number I knew from my mother's street.

I answered with my heart still pounding.

"Sonya, it's your mother's neighbor from across the street." The voice was thin and indignant.