I stayed in Steven’s lap for I don’t know how long. But the pink wisps of dawn were beginning to curl their way in the departing night sky when we got up from the chair. We shuffled inside. The bed seemed more inviting than ever and I didn’t mind when Steven slipped in with me and put his arms round my waist. I welcomed it. I needed the stability of a body, the physical presence of someone to cling to.
My eyes closed as my arms wrapped around Steven’s neck. A second later, I was floating in sleep.
The next second, my eyes were flickering open to sunset and the bedside clock read 8:59 in the evening. I was alone. But I could hear the television on. With a sigh, I hauled myself out of bed. I opened one of the double doors; saw Steven still in his pajama garb staring at the TV. His chocolate gaze darted to me. A smile kicked up the corners of his mouth as he slapped the space next to him.
“You don’t mind a stinky teenage boy?” I teased as I slumped next to him. A chuckle bubbled to Steven’s lips and he pulled me close. My head rested on his lap, eyes drifting to the wall next to the media cabinet. The wall where Steven had kissed me last night.
“Steven?” I asked.
“Mm?” his hand was starting to weave through my hair.
“That kiss…” I stopped.
“Yeah?”
“I wonder if we could…try it again?” my eyes flickered up to his face as I spoke the last three words.
He was watching me, “Later. Right now, I have a surprise.”
My jaw dropped as I stepped into the dance club. Seeing as I had spotted that half of the people were around Steven’s age, I had thought that any clubs would be packed. But this one was a quarter full. A quarter.
“Steven?” I turned to face him.
He was smiling, “You have to get reservations. I got connections.”
“I bet,” I murmured. A smile spread across my own face as the DJ struck up my favorite tune by 50 Cent.
“Wanna dance?” I asked. Steven took my hand, led me on the dance floor.
As we danced, people walked in—one every half-hour or so. Even at that slow rate, sweaty bodies soon began pushing me and Steven closer. I didn’t try to keep a space, but I did want to respect Steven’s wishes. But after a time, he put his hands on my waist, pulled me closer. I smiled as my hands slid up his sweat-soaked dress shirt. Pretty soon, our bodies were brushing together with every movement.
When that happened, Steven pulled me closer. I was getting confused. He didn’t want to kiss me, but he wanted to get physically close.
It must have shown up on my face, because Steven took my hand and led me off, “What’s the problem?”
“I thought you didn’t want to have a relationship with me!” I accused.
“I do,” Steven assured.
“Well, then…why didn’t you kiss me?”
Steven smirked, “I wanted a warm-up.”
“A warm-up?” I repeated. “Why the hell do I need a warm-up?”
“I think you might faint if you didn’t,” Steven was teasing me.
“Oh?” my tone was icy. “Are you that good?”
“You’ll have to see.”
Steven laughed at my face. His hot, moist hand enclosed mine and we strode out of the club and towards the elevators. I pushed the button and a ding sounded a moment later. Doors opened. We walked in the luxurious, air-conditioned elevator. Steven was the one to push the button to our room. Doors closing…
I aimed a look at the person next to me. He was motionless, hand still holding mine. He sensed my gaze, looked towards me, “Soon.”
The doors opened. We walked down the hall, arrived at our door. A second later, it opened.
We stepped in our suite. I pulled off my shoes. So did Steven. Our socks followed. I was on thin ice, the anxiety burning low in my belly.
Steven’s hands pushed me against the door, his lips crashing on mine. His lips were hot, soft, tasting of sweat and Altoid mints. My hands crept around his back, fingers feeling the cotton of his t-shirt, pulling his body to mine. His lips grinded against mine; I was going to have bruised lips in the morning.
And suddenly I knew what else was going to be sore when I felt Steven’s fingers undo my fly.
