Page 34 of Mr. Match

“Jesus, Oliver,” she says, pulling back.

“Hey,” I say, grabbing her arm. “I deserve the full story. I gave you time. I let you walk out and now you’ve come back. You knew the deal, Kat. You made me a promise.”

“Is that all you want from me?” she says, scowling. “Details?”

I’m guessing from her reaction she thought this might be easy. She thought she might talk her way out of it. Maybe I’d forget. But there’s nothing easy about what tore us apart. Instead of fighting with her, I kiss her again. And then I look her in the eyes and say, “I’m dying, Kat. I’m dying for the details. You have to know that.”

“It won’t change anything.” She bites her lip. “I’ll tell you and nothing will change.”

“I’m betting it will.”

“You want to kill him? Still? After all these years? Maybe he’s already dead?”

“It would be easy enough to find out, Katya. All you gotta do is give me a name.”

“Tomorrow,” she says. “Tonight I’ll tell you what I’ve been doing since I left. But I don’t want to talk about him until tomorrow. Just make me happy for one night, Oliver. Just one night where there’s nothing between us. No agenda, no revenge, no past, no future. Just now. I need to be in the now.”

If I wasn’t so damn horny, I might have more fight in me. Think up some add-on conditions or make her give me one detail right now, just to make sure she knows I’m serious.

But I am dying for this girl. Dying. My dick was hard the second I saw her at the church.

She reaches for the hem of her sweater and pulls it up over her head, dropping the soft cashmere to the floor. Her breasts are round, like ripe melons. And they push against her lacy black bra like they might burst through.

“Do you want to know what I was saying in that video I sent you this morning?”

I have to force my eyes from her breasts to find her face. “There was no talking in that video.”

“I didn’t record it. But I was telling you about my life. I’ll tell you what. I’m gonna throw you a bone tonight, Mr. Shrike.”

I burst out laughing. “Are you now?”

“Yes,” she says. “If you want details then I’ll tell you what I was so excited about in that video. I’m gonna start with today and work backwards.” She reaches around behind her back and unclasps her bra, letting it fall down her arms and join the sweater on the floor.

I stand there, struck by her natural beauty. She has no scarf on, so her scar is clearly visible. It heats me up, and not in the way her hand on my cock does. It enrages me to look at that scar.

Kat knows this. She grabs hold of my hand and places it on her breasts. Rubs it around her nipple.

She has always been erotic, even back when she was still seventeen. She said no a lot that first night. But she said yes a lot too. And by the time the next morning rolled around, it was like we’d known each other our whole lives.

“Tonight I need sex, Oliver. And I need to keep my secrets for another day.”

“Why?” I ask. It’s irritating me. I expected her to be more forthcoming. I didn’t expect I’d have to negotiate my way through this deal again. “Tonight, tomorrow, what’s the difference?”

“Because I want to be happy. Just this once. And if you want promises about when I’ll be willing to tell you everything, then I’ll agree. Because I love you. But it will taint my night. If I have to make promises to you right now, then I’ll worry about it. This night will turn into something stressful instead of the relief I really need. So choose carefully, Mr. Shrike. Do you want happy or do you want satisfied? I’ll give you anything you want, including the name you’re desperate for. But it comes at a cost.”

I scrub my hands down my face and say, “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, Katya. I’m just trying to know you better, that’s all. I want all our secrets on the table. I want them to pour out of us. Like a dam breaking. Water spilling over riverbanks, crashing into trees, and washing things away.”

She sighs. “God, you always did have a way with words.”

“And now you do too,” I say, meaning her art. The art I inspired. The career I gave her so that she could leave the idea of sex work behind her.

Katya leans into my chest again, her face right under my chin as she tips her head back to look me in the eyes. “You have always wanted what’s best for me, Oliver. That has always been your weakness. Because I’m going to use it against you right now.” She kicks off her clogs, unbuttons her jeans and shimmies out of them. She pulls her socks off and flings them in the puddle of clothes. “Do you want me happy? Or do you want my secrets?”

“Bitch,” I say, shaking my head. “You’re such a bitch.”

“A dirty bitch, Oliver. Your dirty bitch. So why not just—” She slips my leather jacket down my arms and lets it drop to the floor with a heavy whoosh of air. Then pulls my shirt up over my head until I help her take it off me. “Why not just go along and pretend with me? Pretend everything is great.”

“It is great,” I say, gently swiping a piece of hair away from her eyes. “I don’t need to pretend. In fact, it’s better than great. It’s perfect. We are the perfect match.”