Degrees of Passion (19 page)

Sasha closed her phone. ‘Whew, it’s arranged. I’ve got the equipment and a film major who’ll put it all together.’ She found Kevin standing near the bathroom door, his wet hair tousled around his head and he wore nothing but a blue towel around his waist. ‘Though I did have to sign us up to be extras in a horror film. We get to be victims of the giant killer bugs.’

‘Giant bugs?’ Kevin laughed. ‘Interesting.’

‘It’s some kind of campy old horror film spoof,’ Sasha explained.

‘I’ll have to discuss it with my agent,’ Kevin teased, striking a superior pose. He crossed his arms over his chest. ‘I’ll need my own trailer, naturally, and I don’t do nude scenes.’

Sasha arched a brow. ‘Is that so?’

He nodded. Sasha made a running dash for him. Kevin pretended to be scared as he bolted towards his bedroom. Sasha slid into the wall, laughing hard as she turned the corner. She lunged for his towel, pulling it free from his hips. Clutching the material victoriously, she watched his firm naked ass flex as he leaped onto the bed.

Sasha hooked the towel over her shoulders, gripping both ends as she strolled after him. ‘That was quite a show for someone who doesn’t do nudity.’

‘Private appearances only.’ He winked, standing on his knees on top of the bed. His passionate eyes met hers, unashamed of his nakedness. The stark black of his tattoo drew her gaze to his hip, near where his semi-erect shaft rested. When he moved, muscles shifted erotically beneath the surface of his skin.

Sasha went to him, unable to stop herself. She loved the look, the smell and the taste of him. Everything about what they had was primitive and raw, an animalistic power that took hold inside her body and made her act. She could no more stay away from the bed than she could stop breathing.

Sasha’s hands explored the heated texture of his chest as she leaned in to sprinkle kisses along his collarbone and neck. He made a small sound in the back of his throat and pulled her to him, gently laying her on the bed. Her breath caught as she watched him unbutton her shirt.

Kevin kissed her chest, sucking lightly on each nipple before licking a trail to her navel. Rimming the small divot with his tongue, he touched her thighs, kneading them as he urged them apart. Light shone through the window, harsher from the lateness of the morning. His fingers traveled upwards to her sex, finding the top arch. He ran his thumb down her folds, stroking along the full length of her opening.

Sasha bit her lip to keep from screaming, touching her own breasts as she pinched her nipples. She wanted him again and again, never getting enough. Soon his mouth replaced his hand, kissing her hard. His finger thrust up inside her, teasing and tormenting with its light pressure.

She wanted more.

Sasha seized his arm, forcing it away as she pulled him up her body. Their lips joined, sawing hard against each other. Her heels dug into the bed and she couldn’t keep the moans from escaping her lips with each panting breath. He reached into the nightstand, grabbing a condom, and it felt like an eternity before he was ready and poised to enter her.

She rocked her hips into him. He thrust with an expert grace that left her heart racing and her body unable to resist his pull. She couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t stop, couldn’t think. It was always like this with him. Her nipples brushed across his chest, the stiff buds finding comfort in his warmth. His mouth slid across her chin to her neck, kissing along her jaw to her ear. He gently bit the lobe, sucking it between his teeth.

Sasha rode his deep strokes and it didn’t take long before an orgasm took hold of her entire body. She tensed, quivering uncontrollably. Kevin’s groan of completion joined hers as he too met his release. Her legs fell weakly to the side.

Kevin gave her a quick kiss before rolling to lie next to her. By small degrees, her heart slowed. Sasha stared at the ceiling, content to just be.

Sasha never realized that doing close to nothing could make for a perfect day. As morning melted into late afternoon, they didn’t leave the apartment. Not once did they open a book or talk about Mesoamerican culture. Dr Prichard was never mentioned, neither was graduation, nor declaring majors, or the fact that she needed to take that final plunge and make a decision about her future. Instead they watched movies, did her laundry, discussed literature and debated ice cream flavors.

Conversation flowed easily in aimless directions, punctuated by long bouts of laughter. They even prepared a picnic, spreading it over the comforter as they lounged on his bed in front of the television. Kevin didn’t keep a fully stocked kitchen and the meal was far from fancy, but Sasha thought it wonderful. Ham and Swiss cheese sandwiches were cut into small squares as the main dish. A chipped ceramic plate served as a relish tray, piled high with raw baby carrots and broccoli, with an onion dip they’d made out of powdered soup mix and sour cream.

Dipping a carrot, Sasha bit it in half. ‘This dip is delicious. I don’t think it’s on my diet plan, but right now I don’t care.’

‘Diet plan?’ Kevin gave a small laugh, his eyes roaming over her body. ‘You’re not really on a diet, are you?’

Sasha nodded. ‘Always. I gained a great deal of weight when I first started college. I never want to be there again, so I watch what I eat.’

‘I think your weight is fine,’ he said. ‘But I guess, if you’re doing it to be healthy, that’s all right.’

‘Um.’ Sasha frowned, not liking the sensitive turn the topic had taken. ‘Thanks for the permission?’

‘I just mean, as long as you’re not overdoing it, like taking pills and starving yourself out of some misguided notion that you should lose weight. I remember seeing you a few years ago. I don’t think you were ever fat, at least not that I saw.’

‘Well, maybe that was after I lost the weight again,’ she said, stiffening.

‘Wow. We’ve hit a nerve.’ Kevin pushed up, sitting on the bed. ‘No need to get defensive or overly sensitive. I’m not judging. I agreed healthy is good. All I said was you’re not fat and as long as you’re not popping diet pills—’

‘I’m not defensive,’ she argued, well aware that her tone said just the opposite. Sasha grabbed the plates and began stacking to carry them to the kitchen. How in the world did this conversation start? Now they were fighting? Sasha didn’t know how to change it back around, as she continued, ‘And I’m really tired of you accusing me of being sensitive. You do that all the time. You say it like I’m some kind of irrational, stupid female unable to understand your great, all-knowing intellect.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘You are on diet pills.’

‘No,’ she denied, only to mumble, ‘Not anymore.’ Carrying the plates, she hurried to the door. ‘I’ll do the dishes.’

‘Wait, Sasha, stop.’ His words were almost a command. ‘Don’t you think we should talk about this? If you’re taking pills to lose weight—’

‘No.’ She didn’t stop walking. ‘I don’t think we need to talk about this. Can’t we just leave it? Today was wonderful and light and no pressure.’

‘But, if you have a problem—’

‘Omigod, I don’t have a problem. You’re blowing this way out of proportion. I took some pills I got from a –’ Sasha hesitated ‘– a health store. Supplements. It’s no big deal and, frankly, my diet methods are of no concern to you. I don’t even know why we’re talking about this.’

‘No concern? But, I thought . . .’

Sasha glanced back to see him standing in the living room, frowning at her in confusion. The day had been going so well and now she wanted nothing more than to scream at him and throw something at his head. She hated his commanding tone. ‘One little offhand comment about my diet and suddenly you decide to re-enact the inquisition.’

‘Because I show concern? Don’t you think “inquisition” is an overreaction?’ He crossed his arms over his chest.

Sasha set the plates on the counter. She glanced around, realizing she didn’t know where he kept the storage containers for leftover food. Not wanting to ask him, she said, ‘I have to go to Kat’s to pick up that camera. She’s expecting me.’

‘Regardless of how you take it, I am concerned. I had a friend in school who abused diet pills and ended up starving herself to death.’

‘I’m not abusing anything,’ she tried to make her tone final.

‘Don’t you think we should talk?’ He was behind her now, blocking her only escape. Sasha could see he wanted to say more. She got the sense that this wasn’t just about the pills, but her unwillingness to talk about it with him.

‘You want to talk? How about telling me that little story behind your scar? You think I don’t see how you tense when I touch it? When I look at it? And when I started to ask about it, you turned on the television.’ She put her hands on her hips, lifting her chin. ‘Let’s talk about that, Kevin. Or is that too sensitive of a subject for you? How about we talk about why you’re so emotionally distant and impossible to read?’

He glanced down, touching his chest where the scar lay hidden beneath his shirt. He ran his fingers along his pectoral, tracing it. ‘Like I was saying, when I was a senior in school, a classmate was incredibly depressed and one night at a party she just snapped. I was in the way. A few months after the stabbing, her illness got the better of her and she killed herself by starving herself to death. Her name was Laurie and we’d dated for six months. I should have seen the signs and, because I didn’t, she’s dead. Are you happy? Is that what you wanted to know? So when you tell me you can’t read me and I’m emotionally distant, then yes, I suppose I am but I have my reasons. Don’t expect that to change.’

Sasha’s posture lost some of its stiffness. The sound of his voice, steady and matter-of-fact, warred with the look in his eyes. She’d been trying to turn the tables on him, but suddenly she wished she’d just kept her mouth shut. When she moved past him, out the door, he stood to one side to let her through.

Sasha concentrated on not running from him, but keeping her pace slow and confident. ‘I need to call my sister.’

She made a show of checking her messenger bag, trying to think of the appropriate thing to say about his story. Without being plugged in, her phone had shut itself off automatically to conserve the battery. When she turned it on, the log showed she had eleven missed calls. Sasha scrolled through the numbers – Kat, Kat, Mom, Kat three more times, Mom twice and then . . . She froze, whispering in surprise, ‘Trevor?’ The last three calls had been from Trevor. What did he want? Almost guiltily, she glanced back to where Kevin stood. There was no way she was returning Trevor’s call now. She grabbed her bag and said, ‘I’ll just call her on the way.’

‘Don’t you think you should get your clothes out of the drier before you go running out of here to call your ex?’ All openness in his expression had disappeared, replaced by the cold emotionless mask from when they’d first met. She couldn’t read his features or penetrate the hardened glaze covering his eyes.

‘I’m going to get the camera from Kat for our presentation,’ Sasha said, averting her gaze. It wasn’t a lie. She planned on going to her sister’s house.

‘Don’t lie to me, Sasha. I’m a big boy. If you’re cheating on your boyfriend with me, just tell me.’

She gasped in affront. ‘I am not cheating!’

‘What else am I to think with the way you’re acting?’ He put his hands on his hips.

‘You’re acting like we’re an exclusive couple. I don’t owe you my life story. I don’t owe you an explanation about my diet or my phone calls.’

‘So this is just some affair to you? A way to pass the time?’

Still, she couldn’t read his face. Why did he have to sound so calm about it? Why did everything he said make her physically ill? What was wrong with her? And why didn’t he say what he wanted out of this relationship? Or at least give some sort of hint?

‘No,’ Sasha said, shaking her head. ‘This isn’t just something to pass the time. I do like being with you. I like being here. I . . . It’s just . . .’

‘What?’

I’m scared, she wanted to scream.

‘Affairs like ours burn hot, but they don’t last.’ Sasha’s hands shook as she spoke. What she really wanted to say was, Tell me I’m wrong, Kevin. Tell me this is more than an affair.

His penetrating eyes finally dropped to the floor. ‘Your clothes are in the drier.’

She didn’t need to be told again. The statement was an obvious dismissal and nowhere near the declaration of hope her heart had been begging for.

‘Omigod, Kat, I might pride myself on being smart, but really I’m an idiot. I told him affairs like ours burn hot, but they don’t last and he said nothing.’ Sasha flung herself dramatically onto Kat’s white couch. ‘And that story about getting stabbed. I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing. I should have said something. What should I have said? Sucks to be you? Sorry to hear that?’

‘You should have said, want me to kiss it better?’ Kat offered with a small chuckle.

Sasha groaned by way of an answer, not meeting Kat’s gaze. Her sister’s East Seventy-Eighth apartment was immaculate. The state of the home wasn’t because Kat was a clean freak, but because Vincent could afford to hire maids.

‘I’m sorry, Sash. I don’t mean to make light of this. I only wanted to make you laugh.’ Kat set the coffee mug she’d brought for Sasha down on the low coffee table.

‘I know. I’m just . . .’ Sasha groaned louder, looking around her sister’s home as if she could find the answered hidden within the pristine white walls, polished wood floors and dark floor to ceiling curtains. She didn’t like feeling this way. Indecisiveness was nothing new to her, but the uncertainty she felt with Kevin was too much.

The living room was nearly thirty feet long and eighteen feet wide, with towering ceilings. Large casement windows looked southwards over the city. A wood-burning fireplace dominated one wall, centered between two built-in bookcases. It was more space than any three people could ever need.