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On the big screen, the male lead is giving a foot rub to his future lover, and while I would love to slip Tanya’s sneakers off and give her dainty feet a massage here and now, I take her hand in mine and start running my thumbs across her palm.
“What are you doing?” She leans over and whispers, her hand still relaxed in mine.
“Keeping myself entertained. Reenacting the movie,” I reply without looking away from the screen.
“Fine. I’ll allow it,” she says with a huff that sends a jolt straight to my cock.
A few scenes later, the future couple almost get into an accident, and Tanya twines her fingers with mine, squeezing as the car onscreen tumbles down a ditch. A lot of action for a romantic comedy. My thumb brushes hers absentmindedly as the tragedy unfolds. After our characters come out of the smoking vehicle and all is good, she doesn’t let go of my hand. I smile at that, without braving a look her way. I don’t want to prompt her to let me go.
“I didn’t know you could make cars move this way,” Jenya whispers to me, her face appalled. “Seems dangerous.”
“They’re not supposed to,” I reply and she nods, a look of total concentration in her eyes. She reallyistaking this movie as a study resource.
Onscreen, the guy pulls his soul mate into a tight hug, and they get into a taxi. They don’t seem bothered about cracked ribs or bruised muscles, probably too high on their budding love to feel pain. I try not to laugh and choose instead to detach my fingers from Tanya’s and pull her close to me.
“I want to continue reenacting the nonsense on the screen with you, will you let me?” I whisper in her ear.
She rewards my creativity with a breathy chuckle. “Okay, but if I remove your hand or say no, you stop. And if Jenya has questions, she has priority.”
“First, that’s how consent works, baby. And second, I don’t know. You’re much more enticing.” I don’t know where this flirty attitude is coming from. Maybe from the comfortable darkness or the warm colors and cozy topics on the screen, but I roll with it.
“Don’t call me ‘baby,’ baby,” Tanya quips. Underneath her cold surface, I feel her thawing. I wonder if she remembers how she pushed my head between her legs that time in Valerie’s office. What I wouldn’t do to have her order me like that again.
“Fine, if Jenya needs me, I will pause. Now, it seems you’re due a hand on your thigh.”
The movie couple is now having dinner with older people, I’m assuming someone’s parents. With the pace of their relationship, my two-minute chat with Tanya means I’ve missed a few plot points. The guy is fondling the thigh of the woman under the table, lifting her red dress higher and higher.
I put my hand on Tanya’s knee, feeling the texture of her jeans under my fingertips. She shifts, moving her leg closer to me, giving me easier access. I draw twirls on her knee, then move upward, squeezing gently. My eyes are focused on the changing pictures in front of me, but they don’t register. I’m remembering the time I was between these long, beautiful legs, my tongue tasting and teasing Tanya’s pussy.
She came twice before we left Valerie’s office. There was a wet patch on one of the invoices, a mental image that, to this day, gives me endless joy. I wish Tanya and I could be like that again—on one side, entwined, conspiratorial. Anything but the cold distance that’s between us. Jenya may have helped melt some of it, but she’s going to the embassy after we finish fooling around in the mall, and after that, who knows. There will be no buffer to help us connect, and no real reason to see each other. Tanya will go back to Love and Err, and I will go back to the Arcana. It’s all so logical, and natural, and grim.
Tanya’s grasp on my hand brings me back to the cinema. Thinking she will reject me, I tense, but she only moves my hand higher and to the side. My fingertips graze the inside seam of her jeans, and it takes all of my mental power not to turn around and pounce on her, suffocating her with my desire.
The couple onscreen are kissing, and the ravenous audience is about to have a fade-to-black sex scene. So Tanya is still playing the game. Good. I press my fingers to her pussy, and she doesn’t skip a beat as she squeezes her legs and thrusts her pelvis gently. Is she going to get herself off by grinding on my hand? Damn, that’s hot.
I glance at Jenya, who seems to be completely mesmerized by the movie, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. She doesn’t appear to have any burning questions.
So, I lean toward Tanya, pretending I’m going to tell her something. She gives me her trusting ear, and instead of saying anything, I pull her earlobe into my mouth. She gasps, quickly covering her mouth with both hands. I press my fingers harder to her pussy, rubbing in circular motions, while still sucking the soft flesh of her earlobe.
Her eyelids drop halfway and she keeps her hands over her mouth, inviting me to keep going.
My lips let go of her ear with a soft pop and I move down to the sensitive area where her jaw connects with her face, planting a small kiss there. I pull away just for a moment to see her reaction. My fingers are still rubbing her pussy, and she’s still thrusting her pelvis gently back and forth. Soft moans fill the whole cinema and I can’t believe my luck.
The audience has been rewarded for their suspended disbelief at the car crash with a full-length make-out scene. I doubt there will be actual sex shown, as the movie isn’t rated R, but still.
Ignoring the full-on hard-on in my pants, I press my lips to Tanya’s neck. She breaks into goose bumps, small, sexy noises escaping the hand prison of her mouth. It’s good that we’re at the end of the row because I’m about to push her over the edge.
Her neck smells like something floral and expensive, mixed in with her natural scent. It drives me wild and I can no longer hold back the teenage urge to mark her. I pull a little bit of skin between my teeth, nibbling and sucking, while maintaining the pace of my hand on the seam of her jeans. Her breathing quickens and her heartbeat races—I can feel it in the pulse on her neck. She’s close.
Moving my head down, I stop at the spot where her neck meets her shoulder, and without holding back, I bite down, marking her once again.
That day, when I’d made her gush all over Valerie’s documents, she ordered me to bite her thigh. Now, when she stills and then jerks a few times, I know that biting her is that special sprinkling of spice that will make her explode.
The way she trembles, then twitches against me almost makes me come in my pants. I imagine how she will feel when I’m inside her, driving into her and biting down on the same place I just did.
I slow down my fingers and kiss the marks I’ve left on her pale skin. She releases a shuddering breath and lets her arms flop to her sides. I crave to kiss her, but at the same time, I want to keep that moment separate. In many ways, our fight felt like a reset, like an erasure of the good times we shared. When I kiss her next, it will be our first kiss. The kiss that will make us both whole again and will repair the cracks in the ground beneath our feet.
I let her catch her breath, letting my arm stay on the armrest, palm up. If she wants to take it, she can.
