Something Blue - Emily Giffin [14]
"Should you be doing that?" he asked, still on top of me, pressing slightly harder.
"Probably not," I said. "But here we are anyway."
I kissed him again, and this time he kissed me back. We made out for a long time with warm rain falling on us and thunder rumbling in the distance. I knew we were both thinking that we couldn't, shouldn't, do more than kiss, but we were both stalling to be sure.
Calling the other's bluff. He said stuff like We gotta stop, and This is nuts, and We can't do this, and What if Claire busts us out here? but neither of us changed course or even braked.
Instead, I took firm hold of his hand and moved it up under my sundress. And he sure knew what to do after that. If there had been any doubt in my mind before as to Marcus's expertise, I had no doubt anymore. He was just one of those guys. Dex might be handsome, I remember thinking, but he can't do this. Not like this. And even if he did, it wouldn't feel like this. And the thought that I'd never have with Dex what Marcus was offering me, made me whisper into his ear, "I wanna be with you."
"We can't go there," Marcus said, his hand still working between my legs.
"Why not?"
"You know why."
"But I want to."
"No, you don't."
"I do. I'm sure I do," I said.
"Hell, no. We can't."
But by then I was wriggling out of my thong and unfastening his jeans, reaching down into the warmth of his boxers, determined to make him breathe as hard as I was. We went through the whole high school charade of inching forward step by step, only delaying the inevitable. But the inevitable finally came. Right there under that tree in the pouring July rain.
I'd like to say that I was thinking big, important thoughts—about what I was doing, what it meant in the scheme of my life, the impact it would have on my engagement, my relationship. But no, it was more like, Am I better than his other girls? Will Dex ever find out? Will Marcus ever go out with Rachel again? Why does this feel so damn good?
We lasted a long time together, perhaps because of all that we had had to drink, but I decided that it had more to do with perfect chemistry and with Marcus's sexual prowess. Afterward, we rolled onto our backs, catching our breath, our eyes mostly closed. The rain came to a sudden stop, but we were both soaking wet.
"Wow," he said, moving a stick from under his back and flinging it several feet away from us. "Fuck."
I could tell I had made an impression, so I smiled to myself.
"We shouldn't have done that," he said.
"Too late," I said, intertwining my fingers with his.
He squeezed my hand. "Way too late… Ffffuck."
"You're not gonna tell Dex, are you?" I asked.
"Are you fuckin' nuts? No way. Nobody. You're not either," he said, looking slightly panicked.
"Of course not. Nobody," I said. Rachel flashed through my mind—her expression changing from shock to hurt to piousness. Especially not Rachel.
Marcus ran his hand over my wet thigh. "We should go in. Shower."
"Together?"
"No." He let out a nervous laugh. "Not together. I think we've done enough damage tonight."
I wanted to ask him what would happen from here. I wanted to know what it had meant to him, how he was feeling, whether it was a one-time thing or whether we'd have a repeat performance. But I was starting to feel groggy, confused, and a little bit worried. We went inside, kissed good night, and took separate showers. I couldn't quite believe what had happened—and although I didn't regret it, I still cried a little under the hot water when I looked at my beautiful diamond engagement ring and thought about Dexter asleep in our bed on the Upper West Side.
After my shower, I tried to rub the grass stains out of my dress with some Woolite that I found under the sink, but it was hopeless, and I knew bleach would only ruin the delicate fabric. So I wrung out the dress, crept down to the kitchen, and stuffed it into the bottom of the plastic trash bag under a banana peel and an empty box of Trix. I wasn't about to crash and burn over