Page 85 of Here for a Good Time
One boat ride and multiple police interviews later, Zwe and I are finally able to check into a hotel and take long, hot showers. We had very momentarily toyed with the idea of taking a sexy shower together, but decided that it would be better if the first time we had sex with each other didn’t involve streaks of dirt and blood running across the bathroom floor. So, I shower first, nearly crying with joy when the warm water hits my skin.
Stepping out of the bathroom, a damp Zwe pauses when he sees me sitting on the bed in one of the plush white hotel bathrobes. The knowledge that I’m naked underneath hangs in the cool air-conditioned air. Without so much as a nod, he retrieves the other robe from the wardrobe, wraps it around himself, ties the belt, then removes the towel that was covering his lower body out from under.
“Hi,” I say. I’m trying to start some kind of innocuous conversation since I don’t really know what we do now, but there’s an unending siren inside my brain that keeps announcingZwe isnaked under the robe, Zwe is naked under the robe, Zwe is naked under the robe.
“Hi” is all he replies.
I lie down on my stomach, nod at him to join me.
Once he’s beside me, I suck in my cheeks as I consider what to say next. “Wanna… watch TV?” If this were a scene in my book, I’d immediately make a note on the side that saidBetter dialogue.
“Is this how you always seduce men?” His cheeky smile is made all the more cheeky by his dimples. “No wonder you always have suitors kicking down your door.”
I kick his exposed shin, and he laughs, and I don’t remove my foot, and now my calf is on top of his and I’m embarrassed at howscandalousbare calves suddenly feel, like we’re in an Austen novel. “So, no TV? Okay, what wouldyourather do?”
“Don’t make me say it,” he says. His gaze slowly descends down to my chest, where there’s a small gap between my flesh and the robe. I swallow, heat roiling in my stomach.
“What if we’re bad at it?” I ask. I’m half joking, which means I’m also half not.
Judging by his short laugh, that’s a legitimate fear of his too, or at least, it is now that I’ve brought it up. “Then we try again tomorrow when we’re well rested,” he says.
I’m aware that in reality, there are still the occasional footsteps walking in the corridor past our door, and cars still honking away down on the pavement outside our window, but in my mind, there’s just us. Which scares me until it doesn’t, because that’s how it’s always been. Just us.
“I love you,” I say. When I inch closer, the movement widens that gap between my skin and the fabric. Zwe’s jaw muscles flex, and I revel in the knowledge that he’s trying to remain a gentlemanand not look down, even though I wish he would. What an honor it is to be wanted so thoroughly by the best person you know. “Even if you turn out to be the worst sex I ever have.”
“I’d say—” He moves in, too, so that our lips are almost brushing, but not quite, two boats floatingjustout of reach. “That if you telling me I might bethe worst sex you ever havestill isn’t enough to kill my erection, then we’re off to a pretty good start.”
A shiver races down my spine, and I abruptly feel as though I’m about to have sex for the first time. I want to stall with another quip, and I know that Zwe would let me take all the time I need.
Time.
We have spentsomuch time not doing what we wanted, not going for what we wanted—time that we thought we’d have an abundance of until we didn’t. He’s waited, and so have I, and we both nearly died mid-wait.
So—I cup his jaw and kiss him, and he kisses me back, and I set the tempo, except I can’t decide what I want. We start off slow, my tongue teasing his lips, but then the rest of my body wants to move, too. I lower my hand from his face, pushing the robe off of his shoulders, touching the dark hairs on his chest and then his arms and then even lower to the softness of his stomach.
“You are so beautiful,” he tells me, right before he nips my earlobe. “Just… beautiful.”
We undo the loose knots on each other’s bathrobes at almost the same time. “I’m going to see you naked,” I say with a gasp that’s sharper than I intended.
“Poe.” Zwe’s voice is teasing. “You’ve seen me naked.”
“Not since we went through puberty!”
“What, you think I grew a second penis during puberty?”
I bury a snort into his shoulder. “Great, now I’m imaginingyou with two p—” But I don’t finish the sentence, because Zwe has moved his fingers down my waist, and now he’s rubbing me in a way that makes my eyes roll back. “Softer,” I tell him. “It’s very sensitive right now.” He slows down his pace, lightens the pressure, and my back arches with pleasure.
Removing my robe, I climb on top of him. We stare at each other like this is the first time we’re meeting. “Fuck,” he exhales. “So beautiful,” he repeats, as though the rest of the English language has left him.
“I’m on birth control,” I say, knowing that if there’s one person on this planet who finds responsible intercourse sexy, it’s Zwe Aung Win.
“I know,” he says. “You put it on the list the last time I went to the pharmacy.”
I feel my face burst into a grin. “I don’t think I’ve ever slept with someone who knew my exact brand of birth control,” I say, making us both laugh. I have a vision of us seven years down the line, giddy and shy and hopeful as we talk about beginning to try for kids.Are you sure?he’ll ask because he always double-checks, and I’ll want to laugh because I’ll have been sure for a very long time. I’ll tell him I was waiting for him to bring it up, and he’ll tell me he was waiting for the same with me, and then we’ll both end up laughing, just like we are now.
I bend over just enough that I can tangle my fingers in his curls. He looks so gorgeous.Mine,a greedy voice in my mind revels.All mine. “I love you,” I tell him.
“And I love you.”
