Chapter 11: Not This One

His apartment was on the fifth floor of a brick building, and he opened the door before I knocked.

He had been listening for the elevator.

"I brought the ledger," I said.

"Of course you did."

"It's staying in my bag."

"Of course it is."

He took my bag off my shoulder and set it on the chair by the door, and then he stood there with his hands open.

I had decided on the whole ride over what I would say.

I walked up to him, took hold of his shirt, and said, "Term three."

"Nothing personal goes on the books."

"Right. This isn't going on the books."

"Althea, there's something I have to tell you first."

"Off the books," I said. "Tell me tomorrow."

I kissed him before he could say anything else.

He kissed back hard, and the door shut behind us with my back against it.

I pushed his jacket off his shoulders.

He pulled my blazer down my arms and dropped it, and then he stopped and looked at me with the hall light on his face.

"Tell me what you want," he said.

"Your bed."

"That's it?"

"And you naked. And me in charge."

He laughed, low in his throat, and picked me up.

He carried me into the bedroom with my mouth pressed to his neck.

He set me down on the edge of the mattress and stood in front of me, and I undid his belt myself.

"Put it on the ledger," he said, a little breathless, and I could tell he had been saving it.

"That's a taunt."

"Rule three."

"Not this one," I said, and pulled the zipper down.

He made a sound I wanted to hear again.

I got my hand around him through the cotton, and he was hard and hot and heavy, and I took my time.