Page 34 of Pride and Protest
When Dorsey spread my legs over him in the nap pod, had I been seconds from throwing this man my whole ass?!
They were all rattling around in her brain, popping in her head uninvited when she showered or lotioned or curled her hair. Should she have pushed her nipple in his mouth? And grabbed his length underneath her? Told him to shut up? That didn’t sound very consensual. But she liked the idea of getting a little bit of power back—make him scream her name and beg for her. He deserved it. It was uncomfortable and confusing when her body and mind were running in opposite directions. Shouldn’t she dislike him completely if she disagreed with everything about him? How could his touch still make her heart jump out of her chest? Why would the sound of his morning voice make her grab at her abdomen like she needed to protect her eggs? He was so entitled to female attention that he had scarcely given her another thought. But now that Janae was wrapped up so tightly with David, Liza couldn’t help but feel lonely, and it was hard for her to share her feelings with her family. Chicho also seemed to see her mostly as a whiner.
“Okay,” Liza said to herself, “time to split. Cut your losses.”
She had resigned herself to sitting in the café next door and applying for positions she would never hear back from, when she saw Dorsey through the windows of the municipal building.
Keep your head, child.It was Granny’s voice that popped into her head now.
Granny, I’m trying.
Her head knew all the reasons he was just wrong, but Liza’s body only remembered his cock under her thigh, so thick and throbbing.
For me?
For her.
He seemed to pop up when she was in want of an audience. His shoulders were high, and his brows were creased. He lookedangry.Good, I hope some official finally told him no. I should go before he sees me.It made sense in her head, but her body moved itself into Dorsey’s line of sight.
Dorsey stopped walking mid-stride. He nearly dropped the phone at the sight of Liza outside the government building. She stepped right out of his Instagram feed like he had conjured her out of purely lustful thoughts. He saw her in the thick glass, and she tilted her chin up defiantly.
She sees me.
Dorsey knew she did. He was stuck there momentarily, gazing at her. She walked up to the building and pressed her fist onto the glass. Then she pretended to crank her middle finger until it was straight. Ah, she must have heard about her new sponsor. He stepped out of the revolving door. Once again, he found himself anticipating her reaction.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. His heart was hammering like a son of a bitch.
“This ismycity government. I have a right to be here.” Liza held up her sign. One side readTrans Rights Are Human Rights; the other readVote No on Prop B.
“Where are your comrades?” Dorsey asked.
“Don’t you meanourcomrades, Gold Sponsor? Thank you for joining the fight.” Liza said this like she had won something.
Wait,hadshe won? Dorsey wanted to get a better look at the activism he was funding.
“Let me see that sign.” This had all seemed brilliant a few weeks ago.
“Oh no, you don’t. I know what you do with signs.” She held her sign behind her back. Dorsey thought if he reached for it, hecould feel her pressed against him again. He balled his fist instead.
“No combustibles.” Dorsey held his hands up, then unbuttoned his blazer. “Search me,” he offered. Liza touched the inside of his jacket. For a half second, he thought she would touch his stomach.
“Silk lining... Shit.” She was more impressed with his clothing than with him. “Just checking for vape pens.”
Dorsey laughed, then held out his phone. “ ‘Vote no on Prop B’ is next Wednesday. The trans rally was last Wednesday. You have the rightplace, at least.” He buttoned his jacket.
“Right place wrong time is kind of my brand,” Liza said. It was a criminal offense how easily charmed by her he was. She wore a snug cream turtleneck sweater. Snug made him think of that warm night in the nap pod.
He wanted a redo.
He would be much more efficient with his time. He scanned her black leggings and black fur boots. He needed to find something safe to focus on. Her hair was in long twists down her back, and she wore a black beanie and the biggest pink glasses he’d ever seen. Her lips were two-toned like his—a soft pale brown at the top and a lush full pink at the bottom. Something she was wearing made them look like she’d just licked them. He didn’t want to stop looking at her.
“My friend thinks he knows the best place for drinks in DC. Do you want to prove him wrong?” Dorsey asked. He didn’t knowhowhe knew that this way of asking her out would yield better results, but the proof was in her offended pose.
