He watched her, standing against the window. The curtains were drawn but so sheer that the light was a halo around her slender shadow of a body. She was wearing a thin white tank top, the spaghetti straps sliding down over her shoulders. Her jeans were on the floor. Despite her soft, full roundness, her collarbones and shoulder bones stood out. William liked the way the light looked over her gold toned skin. He could hear her breathing, heard how soft it was. She had one arm around herself, self-conscious, her back turned to him. He stripped off his shirt, threw it in a corner, and pulled her backwards into his arms. There was a momentary resistance and then her body softened and turned against him, into him, her face upturned, eyes wide apart and liquid to the point that they were almost black in the semi-dark of the room. He pulled her down on top of him on the bed, burying his nose against her throat, breathing her scent in. The thick, heavy silk of her hair curtained his face, itching his skin for a moment, the friction of it suddenly alive and electric. He gathered it in his fist, roughly pulling her further down against him.

She made a small sound, but didn’t resist. He rolled her under him, gently kneeing her legs apart. He bent his head again, nuzzling her skin and flicking his tongue out over her collarbone. She gasped a little. Her skin smelled warm and sweet. Even in the half dark, he could see how pretty she was. He held himself still for a moment just taking her in, nuzzling her and then kissing her gently under her cheek, feeling her cheekbone against his lips, kissing her temple, and then her closed eyelids. Her eyes fluttered open, questioning.

One of her hands had found its way to his face, fingers spreading into his hair, the other hand pressed on his back. He lifted his head and stared intently at her. He didn’t have to say anything at all. Eyes still holding hers, he slowly trailed his fingers down, pushing away the thin fabric until her breasts were loose. He paused, letting his fingers linger and then he kissed one side and then the other, still watching, seeing her swallow. She arched up slightly, and her breath came in sharply as his hand moved lower.

And then they were just hands, fingers, lips, skin, hair, a tangle of tongues, crushed against each other. He didn’t even need to think about it. When he finally cried out, she held him tightly to her, smothering his startled gasp against her slick wet skin. It was only after his heart had stopped thundering that he realized that he was still gripping her, and too tightly. He loosened his grasp, but he had left red marks on her skin. Worried that he had hurt her, he regarded her somewhat somberly, but she smiled and kissed his jaw reassuringly.

“Mmmmn” he said, blinking. She nestled against his shoulder, and they lay together like that for a long time. 

She was the first to break away, untangling herself from him. He watched her as she slid out of the bed, searching for the shift. He turned on his side and stared at the white light coming from the window, noticing that it was slanted now, skewed away and the room was almost fully dark. Then he was up and hurriedly dressing. If he didn’t leave now, he’d be missed at home. He looked up to find her sitting at the dressing table, staring at herself in the mirror. Her hair was tangled, tendrils sweeping around her face. He came to stand behind her and then kissed her softly on the shoulder, and then casually rearranged her hair so it fell over one shoulder, the way he liked it. It was so long now that when her head was thrown back the ends had flicked rhythmically against the bed. A shuddering aftershock pierced his belly as he remembered it and remembered again what her hair felt like wrapped around his fist. He closed his eyes trying not to smirk, leaning back with a sharp intake of breath. And then he wanted to have her again and she let him right there on the dressing table, cosmetics and bottles scattering everywhere. He groaned ruefully into her hair when he was done.

“Don’t be too pleased with yourself,” she laughed breathlessly, thrusting him away from her, but she was not angry.

He snapped his eyes open, realizing that they had been closed.

He threw his clothes on, not even bothering to do up his shirt. Grinning cheekily, he turned on heel and strode away, leaving her in the darkness. Then he surprised himself by stumbling in the hallway while he was on the way out of her front door. Her small hoot of laughter trailed after him, ringing in his ears, mixing a spurt of shame in with what had been a perfect, gold well of satisfaction still roiling about in his chest.

He slowed himself down, walking unhurriedly down the street. He’d thrown his jacket on over himself, but the nylon interior was cold against his bare skin and the zipper rubbed annoyingly, but he wasn’t going to stop to do up the shirt in the middle of the street. He pulled the hood up, looking about him, but the street was empty.

He could still smell her and his hands closed in fists as he thought about it. He’d have to run upstairs and shower and hopefully, Mei wouldn’t be home to notice.

Although they settled into a comfortable intimacy afterward, they didn’t talk about that day. It was as if it was their secret and they didn’t even dare speak of it themselves. It hung between them, informing a tender caress, a look, sometimes his brief kiss on her ear, but it was as if they both knew that that moment in the semi-dark could only stay that way, a small pocket in each other’s souls, to be drawn out only when they were alone, and lonely. It was only once, a silent promise in the hidden part of their hearts that they kept only for each other.