Page 40 of The Replay

Her sounds change. Memories invade my mind, of all the times I heard this hitch, and the soft gasping sounds in her throat. She's about to come.

Her hands reach for my neck. Her fingertips stab my traps. Her thumbs rub hard on my skin, unknowingly setting the pace I'm bound to follow.

All I have to do is tap her clit with my thumb a few times, and she comes undone in my arms.

She trembles in place, squeezing me tight. I'm about to come myself and I rush through it, because if I don't come soon, she'll have time to think of what we're doing while I'm still inside her. If she decides this is wrong before I do, I won't be able to take it.

I come. My defenses are gone. In the quiet of my mind, only one thing exists.

I missed you.

That was always going to be the case.

And because of it, I do one more thing I shouldn't. Eyes closed, I find her mouth and kiss her. Sweetly. I make it last. I swim in the longing that comes in its wake. She returns it like she missed me too.

Before I can throw myself into the abyss of what all of this means, I retreat.

We catch our breath with me still inside her. I lick my lips, seeking her taste there. She keeps her eyes closed for a second longer, a rare softness on her face. But it ends.

I pull out of her. It's awkward. She gazes down at herself and jumps off the table. She rearranges her clothes as I take off the condom and tie a knot on it.

"Do you have a tissue?" I ask.

With a single hand, I fix my clothes as well.

She searches her purse and gives me one. I wrap the condom tight in it and throw it in the waste basket in the corner.

"That can't happen again," I say.

"It won't."

"I'll take a cab to the Thunderdome."

She clears her throat. "If you want to."

"I think it's best."

"All right."

"Ready?" I ask.

She nods.

I open the door and let her out. "After you."

She leaves without a second glance. I wait for a minute.

We kissed. We had sex. And with no questions asked— all she gave me were demands and declarations— she didn't ask a single thing I could say no to.

I folded like paper. Ended up doing it in a study room, just like the first time we had sex back in college. Only this time, there was nothing joyful or adventurous about it. Only a single moment of surrender.

"Jesus," I mutter, and I let out a dark chuckle.

It was… retaliation, somehow. A protest, because of everything we lost. Another goodbye, if I can convince myself of that. The last one.

I pull the chair up from the floor. Rearrange the room. Two minutes more, and I exit, busy getting a car to come pick me up.

Even now, I know what we did will change things, and I don't know exactly how yet. Still, I may come to regret it.