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The way we move in sync. We’re both on the same page. Only after a few times we’re familiar with what we both like. So I dip deeper. Slower, I lift myself over her in rhythmic strokes. She tugs at my hair, my ears, and my shoulders.
“Joaquin!” She yells.
My joints tighten, and the energy only has one way out of my body. I spill myself into her, digging my dick deeper into all corners of her womanhood.
“Nadia…”
Trembling, I release my last pulse and rest my chin on her shoulder.
“You can’t leave this town.”
God, if she only knew she was meant to be here. Call me a romantic, over the top, or needy for love, but there’s a knowing that settles in me more and more when Nadia’s around. A foreverness about her.
I linger in her smell before we doze off like old lovers.
It’s three in the morning when my eyes peel open. Nadia’s not in bed. The sheets are pulled back as if she’s in the restroom. My personal bathroom attached to my bedroom is dark with its door open. I’d be surprised if vanishing after lovemaking was Nadia’s style. I wouldn’t imagine it to be. But, nonetheless, I slip from under the sheets to take a look through my home.
Heading down the stairs, I see the reflection of the kitchen light across the floor. Then I hear rummaging like a wild rodent shuffling through the pantry.
“Nadia?”
“Yes. Sorry, Joaquin.”
Turning into the kitchen, I’m surprised to see Nadia wearing my zip-up sweatsuit top minus any bottoms. But I’m more taken aback watching Nadia rinsing out a saucepan of rice. There are also chopped vegetables and garlic on the side. I double check the time on the microwave display. I hope my old age isn’t showing itself, and I read the clock wrong earlier. But, no. It says ten after three in the morning.
“You can’t stop helping yourself to my kitchen, huh? And, what’s with it being three in the morning?”
Nadia meets my eyes. She appears okay.
“Sorry. Just…thought it’d be good to make you a little something when you wake in the morning…um.”
“Oh, were you trying to make me something to wake up to since the plan is for you to be gone?”
She shrugs.
I approach her, reading a solemness underneath her. Something is or has disturbed her. I’m sure it was something in her thoughts. Has to be a result of her childhood. It almost suggests she needs to leave people in peace or overcompensate for any kind of affection. Perhaps she’s trying to ‘thank me’ again. I’m genuinely confused because it doesn’t come from a space of gratitude as much as it feels like it’s out of duty.
“Nadia?”
“I wanted to make you vegetable rice with steamed chicken. I couldn’t sleep, and I took a peek at your cool little meal plan you have yourself on.” She nudges her elbow at the fridge next to her. Of course, there’s my dietary menu.
“Well, you didn’t have to do that. You could’ve just woken me up for more loving.”
She beams, turning to finish her last rinse off of the rice. Setting it on the stove, I’m surprised to see her moving forward with it. I’m amazed she hasn’t thrown herself back onto me. It wasn’t too long ago she was preaching about her everlasting hunger to fulfill goal after goal. Maybe one of her goals is to set me up for success because she’s doing things for me as if we’re in a committed relationship. It’s overly kind for someone who basically wants a sweet Midwestern fling.
“Come. That’s for me to do in the morning.”
I tug at my sweatsuit’s sleeve that Nadia’s wearing.
“Joaquin. I want to do this for you. Can I do this for you and then return to bed?” She drills her fingernails across my chest.
“But, you don’t have to. And I didn’t ask you to?”
“Well, you don’t have to.”
“But, what if I didn’t want you touching my food? What if there was a particular way I wanted it cooked? Wouldn’t you want to run that by me first?”
She doesn’t like these questions. She purses her lips forward, revealing my questions have good points.
