Rebound (11 page)

He fiddled with the touch screen on
the dash, pulling up the navigation, and punching in numbers and
letters. I realized that he punched in my address in Charlestown.
He knows my address? Did he commit it to memory?

“
Well, it sure would fit a
gaggle of kids.” I said looking behind me to the second row. When I
turned back around, he looked at me seriously.

“
A gaggle of kids?” His
eyebrow lifting with the question he left hanging in the air. I
thought through a reasonable response.

“
I just meant that it’s a
nice, safe vehicle for the driver and its passengers . . . big and
small.” I offered, and slowly let out an exhalation, hoping I
didn’t just embarrass myself with my incoherent
rambling.

He slowly peeled out of the driveway,
moving around the vehicle of the family that rode the elevator with
us. “Do you drive?” He inquired, making polite
conversation.

“
I do, but I don’t own a
car right now. It’s too expensive to park in the city, so I take
public transportation everywhere.” He was silent as he listened to
me speak. I continued, “I also like having the time to be with my
thoughts, read, or just observe people; it makes the commute go
faster.”

“
You said you have to be
at work to open the gym at 6 a.m. How do you get from Charlestown
to the gym in the city?”

“
I take a bus over the
bridge and then the green line toward the gym. It takes about forty
minutes once I’m on the bus. Timing is everything. I’m always on a
tight schedule, which is probably why I hurried you
tonight.”

“
Is that safe? A young
woman walking to the bus stop and waiting for the bus, and then you
have to take a train. You open the gym by yourself?” He asked
without looking at me. His eyes were trained on the road while the
navigation’s voice led the way.

“
I have no choice.
Besides, I’ve lived there for almost two years. I know a lot of
people in the neighborhood. I know the bus drivers and most of the
riders who happen to keep on the same schedule. It may be hard for
you to understand because it doesn’t appear that commuting by
public transportation is a necessity. I haven’t had any problems.
Do you have a problem with that?” I asked with a bit of annoyance
in my voice.

“
Yeah. I don’t want you
walking alone early in the morning. I’m concerned that you’ll be
assaulted or murdered.”

“
Seriously?” I turned my
body to him. “We’ve only known each other for less than a week and
until last night it was just on a professional level.” I took a
breath and continued, “Life is too short to worry about being
assaulted or murdered every time I walk out of my home. I’m
vigilant. I’m street smart. I can handle myself pretty well. And
what business is it of yours?”

“
It really isn’t my
business, but you should be concerned for your safety.” He said
through clenched teeth.

“
Who says I’m not?” I
interjected. “I’m careful and very capable of taking care of
myself. After years of answering to my ex, I’ve depended on myself
for two years and in that time, I’ve come to realize that I’m most
comfortable not having to answer to anyone.” I stared out of the
passenger window. We were both quiet. The only sound was the female
voice of the navigation directing him the way to my home. I looked
at his hand on the gear shift knob. He clutched it tightly. I
looked up at his flexed jaw, keeping his gaze ahead when turning or
changing lanes.

I put my hand over his and rubbed
gently. “I’m sorry for being so defensive.” He didn’t respond. “It
took me a while to reclaim my independence when my marriage
dissolved. I was burned badly by my ex-husband, and I’m just very
protective of myself.” I felt his hand soften under my own. He
parted his fingers and allowed me to squeeze mine within his. I
pulled his hand toward my lap. I reached under his arm and
interlaced my hand and with my free hand I lightly caressed the
back of his hand and wrist. His hand was so warm. His face
softened. He looked at me and smiled.

“
I didn’t mean to sound
possessive or controlling. I’m just concerned. I like you a lot.
I’d like to spend more time with you, and I’m not really good at
articulating my opinion and feelings.”

“
I’m not the best with
male-female dynamics, so I apologize for flying off the handle.
You’ve been really great.” I brought his hand up to my face and
kissed the back of his hand. I then gave a kiss to each finger. He
shifted in his seat, but never pulled away.

“
You’re distracting me.
This isn’t safe. It’s important to have two hands on the wheel at
all times. Ten and two at all times.” I laughed.

“
So, it wouldn’t be good
to take your hand and put it here?” While not wearing any
underwear, I pulled my dress up to my pelvis, opened my legs, and I
guided his hand to my cut. With my middle finger, I guided his
middle finger inside where he touched my clit. I opened my legs and
inched forward in the seat, taking him in. I sat back and moaned as
he voluntarily massaged me. He reached further down to enter my
void.

“
God, you’re so wet.” He
said. With eyes on the road, he leaned over with his lips puckered,
I leaned in to meet his mouth and gave him a strong kiss. He
continued to rub me. The palm of his hand created a sweet friction
on my clit. I leaned back and panted with pleasure. I kicked off my
heel, lifting my right leg on the edge of the seat to open
wider.

I kept my hand on his, urging him to
continue pleasuring me. With each moan that parted from my lips, he
rubbed me with his palm and flicked his fingers in me faster and
deeper. I was at the brink of climax. I gasped as he moved his
thumb to my clitoris. He stroked and rubbed until I came. I gasped
and moaned as the waves of pleasure shot from my center and coursed
through my body like a pebble rippling through still
waters.

He kept even pressure on my mound
until the sensation ceased. I pulled his hand out, lowered my
dress, and wiped his hand and fingers with my already soiled
dress.

“
This dress has seen a lot
of action in twenty four hours.” I said in hopes of diminishing my
chagrin. He laughed and patted my thigh.

“
Where is your
underwear?”

“
I left it drying on the
towel rack in your bathroom. You might want to put that away before
Glynnis finds it.” I said.

“
I guess putting it under
my pillow is out of the question?” He countered. I smiled. We
laughed.

We crossed the bridge into
Charlestown. I was close to home, close to leaving him. I didn’t
know where this ‘thing’ was headed. Could I even call it a
relationship? At this point, it was just sex. Really, really,
really good sex. I was too bashful to ask. We were both quiet. The
silence was gut wrenching.

I’ve barely dated, and I never
experienced a casual sexual encounter before, so I had no point of
reference on how to talk to him. It’s so much easier to make
conversation with someone that I don’t want to sleep with, even
easier with someone that I’ve concluded would never be interested
in sleeping with me. I gave myself to this man and he just made me
come in his brand new car. All, I can think about is that I really
hope I didn’t ruin his seat.

“
I don’t know how to talk
to you.” I looked at him. Slipping my foot back in my
heel.

“
What? Why?”

“
I don’t know. I can’t
articulate why. I can have conversations with total strangers en
route to work and at work, but with you, I clam up. Even saying
this to you requires an immense amount of courage.”

He looked at me curiously. “It’s not
just you. I get that a lot. My friends say that I’m a quiet
observer. I think medical school taught me that. You listen and
watch the patient, and think of what they could be suffering from.
Once I have an answer, I tell them. I’m always thinking. You’ll
have to bear with me when we’re together.” He said. I hung onto the
words, ‘when we’re together’, which partially answered my question
of whether we’ll see each other again.

“
This is it, right there.”
I said, pointing to my place. As always the narrow street was
filled with parked cars. There would be no option for him to ask to
park and come up. I quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

“
Where’s the best place to
find parking?” He asked.

“
There isn’t any great
place to park. It’s like this all the time in Charlestown. I’ll get
out here and go in. Thank you so much for bringing me
home.”

“
Are you sure you don’t
want me to see you in?” He asked, caressing my leg. His fingers
going up my thigh. I put my hand over his and leaned in.

“
I wouldn’t have time to
give you attention. I’ve got a lot to do before I go to bed. I have
to prep for the week, and I have to get to bed as soon as I’m done
because I must wake up super early.”

“
Okay.” He looked around,
seemingly still looking for an open spot. “When are you free? I’d
like to see you again. Maybe take you out to dinner?” He looked
deeply into my eyes.

“
I’m free Saturdays. It’s
my only day off.”

“
Not Fridays?” He asked
incredulously.

“
No, I took the evening
off for Chelz’ party. I wouldn’t be able to take another day off
for a while.”

“
Where is your evening
job? Maybe we can see each other afterwards?” He offered; his tone
hopeful.

“
I work at The Lighthouse
Inn on the North End. My shift ends at 11 p.m.” He grimaced. It
felt hopeless.

“
I’m going overseas on
Thursday and won’t return until Sunday. I was hoping to see you
before I leave. I’ll check my schedule and I’ll call to see if
you’re available. Okay?” He looked at me. I must have failed at
appearing hopeful, because he touched my chin and pulled me close
and whispered, “I’ll make sure to see you”. We kissed longingly.
Before we got too consumed by each other, a car behind us honked.
The Range Rover was double parked and was taking up a lot of space
in the narrow two-way street.

He stopped kissing me. He let out a
huge exhale. He pressed on the window button to lower his window.
He waved the car to pass. Once the car passed, he exited the
vehicle and walked to my side. He opened my door and offered his
hand. Taking his hand, I exited the car, and smoothed out my trench
and dress.

“
Thank you again for
everything. I hope to see you again.” I reached up and gave him a
quick peck on the lips. I pulled to go, but he held my hand. “Good
night.” I said gently pulling my hand from his grip. I walked to
the small steps and looked for my keys in my clutch. I turned to
see that he was still standing there looking at me, reminding me of
the way he watched me walk away at the club. I unlocked and pushed
the door open, looking back to wave one more time. He waved back
and he walked toward the driver’s side. I closed and locked the
front door, wishing this wasn’t the last time that I’d get to see
him.

I took off my heels to walk the three
flight of stairs. As I walked up the steps to my top floor studio,
I relived the sensual moments that we spent together today. Even if
we never see each other again, I’m comforted by the experience, and
for that I am grateful to Doctor Dashing.

When I entered my dark and quiet
little place, I threw the heels in the corner. I hung up my trench
and shawl, vowing to get them dry cleaned. I walked to my charger
on my nightstand and plugged in my cellphone. I took off my dress
and hugged it to my chest. I laid it on the small round table that
serves as my dining table and office. I wanted to pretreat it
before washing. I looked at the time on the clock on my nightstand.
I figured I had three hours to get all my washing and cleaning done
before I needed to go to bed. All I could do was go to my twin bed
and lay down on my stomach, clutching my pillow tight to my body to
simulate the firmness of his body. It didn’t smell like
him.

I missed him. I found it strange that
I could miss someone that before yesterday never seemed like a
possibility. I got up to take a shower and wash my hair. I found
some waterproof tape to put on the gauze so that the stitches
wouldn’t get wet. Every move I made I thought of him. I wondered
what he was doing. I hoped he was thinking of me and planned on
seeing me as he said he would. Mostly, I wondered what our next
encounter would be like. Was it just sex? If so, could I just be
with him sexually and not give him my heart?

After showering, I put on my
sweatpants and pulled on a white t-shirt, and slipped on my fuzzy
moccasins. I gathered all my dirty clothes, linens, detergent,
grabbed a book, and went down to the basement laundry room to wash
my clothes. After putting a load of wash into each of the two coin
operated washers, I settled into the hard plastic chair to read. As
I tried to read the words, my concentration fizzled and all I
thought about was his touch, the things he did that made my body
quake, the kisses that took my breath away. I tried to memorize the
things that I did to bring him pleasure; if I ever get a chance to
be with him again, I wanted to pull it out of my bag of tricks. Who
am I kidding? The only bag of tricks were from books, not from
personal experience. The books fueled my imagination and I created
my own list of things I wanted to experience, and now I want to
experience it with him.