Page 26 of Honeyfires

"If you say terrifying, I'm going to be offended on behalf of your motorcycle."

"I was going to say affecting."

"Oh." She released my lapels, smoothing them. "Yes. Affecting. That's the word."

"Vera."

"Petra."

"We're in the parking lot."

"We are," she agreed. "And I've been thinking about my apartment since noon, and I would very much like to not be in the parking lot anymore, and if you could please take me upstairs before I do something entirely undignified in front of our building—"

I took her upstairs.

We made it through her front door.

Barely.

I kicked it shut with my boot and had her against it before the latch caught, her sharp intake of breath swallowed immediately by my mouth on hers. Her hands went into my hair, gripping hard enough to make me hiss against her lips. Mine went to her hips, fingers finding the warm curve of her body through the silky fabric, and when she made that small, desperate sound I was already becoming helplessly, embarrassingly addicted to.

I pulled back. Just enough to see her face.

Her lips were already swollen. Her eyes were already dark, pupils swallowing all that blue. She was breathing like she'd been waiting all afternoon to do exactly this, which, as it turned out, was accurate.

"Before we go any further," I said.

"Petra—"

"Listen, baby girl." I tilted her chin up with two fingers. "If I'm going to be in charge tonight, you need a way to stop me. Any time. For any reason." I held her gaze, making sure she was with me. "A word you'd never say in the middle of this."

She stilled. That focused librarian attention, the one that missed absolutely nothing, came to bear directly on me. Then something delicate moved across her face. "You're setting a safeword."

"I'm setting a safeword."

She considered for exactly one second. "Parachute."

"Parachute?"

"You use it when you're falling and need to be saved." She said it simply, the way she said all the things she believed in. "It only works if you actually pull it."

Something happened in my chest that I didn't have a name for. Not yet. "Parachute," I repeated. "You say that word and everything stops. Immediately. No hesitation, no discussion, no wounded feelings. Yes?"

"Yes." Her eyes hadn't left mine. "You can use it, too."

"I'll use it if I need it." I let my thumb trace her jaw, feeling her pulse skip beneath it. "But tonight is about you."

The corner of her mouth curved up, slow and warm. "Is it?"

"It is." I kept my voice even, which was a significant personal achievement, because she was looking at me like I was something she'd been waiting a long time to find on a shelf. "So tell me right now if you want this. Clearly."

"I want this." No hesitation anywhere. "I have wanted this since you kissed me against the Le Guin section, and I would like you to please stop asking and start—"

I kissed her.

She made a sound of pure satisfaction against my mouth, and her hands went immediately back into my hair, pulling in a way that was more instruction than reflex. I pressed her harder into the door, hands finding her thighs, and lifted her without thinking about it.

She made a completely different sound. "Oh—"