Chapter 10: The Loft

The loft was one room under a slanted ceiling, with a double bed, a lamp and a window that looked onto the street.

Malcolm set me on my feet beside the bed and turned the lamp on low.

His hands were not steady, and I put mine over them.

"I want to see you," I said.

He pulled his flannel shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor.

His chest was broad and covered in dark hair, and there was another scar low on his ribs.

I put my mouth on it.

He made a rough sound and tangled his fingers in my hair.

"Bridget."

"I know."

I pushed him backward until the backs of his knees hit the mattress, and he sat down.

I stood between his thighs and pulled my sweatshirt up over my head.

His eyes went over me, slowly, from my face down to my bra and my stomach and the waistband of my jeans.

"You're beautiful," he said, and it did not sound like something he had practiced.

"Then touch me."

He put his hands on my hips and pressed his mouth to the soft skin below my navel.

His beard scraped me, and my knees went loose.

He undid my jeans and drew them down my legs, and I stepped out of them.

I unhooked my bra and let it fall.

He looked at my breasts for a long second and then cupped one in his rough palm, and his thumb dragged across the nipple.

I gasped and arched into him.

"Again," I said.

He did it again, and then he took the nipple into his mouth and sucked, and I held his head against me with both hands.

I had never been touched slowly before.

Zack had always been in a hurry.

Malcolm was not in a hurry at all.

He moved to the other breast, then back to the first, until I was breathing in short, hard pulls and my thighs were shaking.

"Lie back," I said. "I want to see the rest of you."

He lay back on the bed, and I unbuckled his belt myself.

His cock was thick and hard against his stomach when I freed it, and I wrapped my hand around it.

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