Chapter Six #3
And she melted right then and there. Somehow on the way to her bed, she ended up pulling them against her closet doors, and
the wood groaned on its hinges. Then she felt him reaching for the hem of her dress. When he paused, she said, “Take it off,”
and she put her hands in the air. She felt his fingertips against her bare skin as he pulled the dress over her head.
Helen reached for the top button on Tyler’s shirt and started working her way down. “Why did you wear a shirt with so many
buttons?” she asked.
“To torture you.”
“So mean.” She dropped his shirt to the floor and stepped back to admire him. She was still wearing heels on her feet, and
a matching black lace bra and panty set, and it made her feel like a pinup girl as his eyes took her in.
“You look so amazing,” he said. “Absolutely amazing.” He said it as if it was a statement of fact that she shouldn’t try to
refute because he was unquestionably correct.
Helen put her hands on his chest and trailed her fingers across his skin as she said, “So do you,” then shoved him backward
onto the bed. She stepped out of her heels and climbed on top, sitting astride him. Tyler sat up to kiss her, and as she lowered
all her weight onto her knees, she felt the heat of him against her.
His hands trailed from the skin of her bare waist down, and he said, “Your legs are cold.”
“Because I walked four blocks in the cold with bare legs.”
“It’s March,” he said in between kisses. “That’s crazy.”
“It was for you!” she said against his mouth. “I wanted you to see my legs when I walked into the restaurant.”
Tyler chuckled and tilted his head back so he could see her face. “I definitely saw your legs when you walked into the restaurant.
And I saw your legs in the elevator yesterday morning too.”
“You never looked at my legs in the elevator.”
“I did.” He smiled. “I was very quick and very stealthy.”
Then they divested each other of the rest of their clothes, and he looked at not just her legs but all of her, this time not
so quick and not so stealthy.
Eventually, Tyler said, “I have a condom in my jacket,” and he looked all the way over to the chair where he had left his
jacket. And Helen said, “I have a condom in my dresser,” and she looked at the drawer right next to her bed. And Tyler said,
“You win.”
After that, the whole world faded away. It was hands in hair and urgent kissing, and it was their eyes poring over each other.
When they flipped over so Helen was beneath him, she accidentally caught her elbow in his ribs and said, “Sorry,” and he quickly
whispered, “It’s okay.”
And then Tyler showed her how it was better than okay with the way he gripped her hips and slid inside her.
“I like that sound you’re making,” he said, and she hadn’t even realized she was making a sound.
Usually the first time Helen had sex with someone new, she pretended to come because she was too hyperaware of herself to let go.
The second time, the third time, she would have no problem finding release, but the first time felt like performance art.
She always viewed her body through the man’s eyes, as if she were outside herself.
So she was surprised when she felt the sensations between her legs growing and then growing even more.
So much of it was the way Tyler was looking at her, holding her in such an intense gaze that she had a hard time staying stuck inside her brain.
His gaze tethered her heart to his and made her fall in small increments.
She became vaguely aware of the noises she was making again, and he must have seen how she was responding because he maintained the same rhythm, just moved into her a little deeper, and then she came.
No performance art. A real wave that crashed over her so hard that she buried her face in his shoulder so he wouldn’t be able to fully see and hear how much it affected her.
When Helen opened her eyes and lay her head back, Tyler was looking down at her. Their eyes locked together and he tipped
over the edge. He, too, buried his face in her shoulder and muffled his sounds there. The way they were hiding from each other
accentuated to her how new all of this was.
Afterward, she rested her head on his chest and listened to how fast his heart was beating.
Later that night, when Tyler kissed his way down her stomach, Helen put her hands in his hair and warned him that oral sex
wasn’t really her thing. He paused and peered up at her. “What do you mean?”
Her past boyfriends had been impatient or uninterested or both, and so the whole act made her feel self-conscious. She told
him, “I don’t mind it. I’m just not sure I’m that into it, I guess.”
He just smiled at her and resumed kissing his way southbound. Then he showed her how wrong she was.
The next morning, their third time, was perfect.
Because by that time, she was completely lost to him.
When Tyler left Helen’s apartment the next morning, he said, “I’ll call you later today.”
She nodded and smiled. There was no doubt in her mind that she would hear from him.
But her phone never rang.