Chapter 17: March Second

At nine o'clock on the second of March I walked into 2B without knocking.

The door was open, as he had promised, and the lamp was on in the bedroom.

Perry stood by the bed in his socks and his good flannel shirt, with his hands hanging at his sides.

He looked like a man at the edge of a diving board.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi."

"You shaved."

"I didn't know what you'd want," he said. "I did it twice."

I laughed and shut the door behind me with my heel.

"Take off your shirt," I said.

He undid the buttons slowly, because his fingers wouldn't go any faster.

I watched each inch of his chest come out of the cloth, and the white scar along his rib.

The pulse went hard at the base of his throat.

When he dropped the shirt on the chair, I put my palm flat on his sternum.

His heart was running.

"Sit on the bed," I said. "Against the headboard."

He sat and leaned back against the iron rails.

"Put your hands up," I said. "Hold the bars."

His eyes flared.

"Dara."

"I'm not tying you," I said. "You hold on because you want to."

"I won't let go."

"Show me."

He reached up and wrapped both hands around the cold iron, and his arms drew taut.

His whole body went still, the way it had in the panel room.

It was the stillness that did it, again.

I stood at the foot of the bed and took off my sweater.

Then my boots, then my jeans, one slow piece at a time, with the lamp throwing my shadow up the wall.

He watched me, his knuckles white.

"You look at me like I'm something you found," I said.

"You are."

"I'm something you're allowed to touch. Later."

"Please."

"Not yet."

I climbed onto the bed and knelt over his thighs, and I kissed him until his head tipped back against the bars.

He made a low, helpless sound against my mouth.

I kissed his jaw, his throat, the hollow below it, the line of his collarbone.

I took my time over his chest.

When I reached the scar along his rib I stayed there with my lips and tongue until he shook.

"Say something," I said.

"I can't."

"Try."

"You're so..." He lost the rest in a gasp.

I smiled against his skin and went lower, shoving his jeans and briefs down his legs and off the bed.

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