Chapter 20: Both Kinds of Signed

The young architects were at lunch, and the studio was empty and full of noon.

Inés locked the glass door behind us and turned the sign to CLOSED.

She did not turn the lamp on.

She did not need to, because the light fell in long gold bars across the scarred table and the back sofa.

"Take your coat off," she said.

I took it off.

"Now come here."

I went, and she put both hands in the front of my shirt and walked me backward until my knees met the sofa.

"Six weeks," she said. "You've slept on this thing for six weeks, ten feet from me, with your shirt off."

"I slept in a T-shirt."

"It was a thin T-shirt."

Then her mouth was on mine, hot and slow, and she was undoing my buttons one at a time.

I had thought I would be gentle.

That lasted until her tongue touched mine.

I pulled her shirt over her head, and she unhooked her bra and let it drop, and my hands closed over her breasts.

She arched into them with a low sound.

"I love you," I said into her neck. "I love you."

"I know." Her breath hitched. "Say it again, but lower."

I put my mouth on her nipple and said it against the skin, and she gripped my hair with both hands.

We went down onto the sofa together.

She got my belt open and my trousers down, and wrapped her fingers around my cock.

It was already hard enough to hurt.

"Look at you," she said. "Five years I thought about this."

"Show me."

She stripped off her jeans and her underwear, and knelt over me with one knee on each side.

She was wet, and she was shaking a little, and I put my hand between her legs and felt how wet.

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