“I know you can understand, because I’m sure people are jealous of you, too.” She moves closer. “You’re just like me, James,” she says, in that sexy, raspy voice. (Is he just like her? Who cares.) “I’m just like you, James,” she says. “We’re like twins.”
Suddenly she’s kissing him. She’s so easy. She’s so great. (Of course she’s not a liar. How could a girl like this be a liar?) Does she know he wants her as much as she wants him? He puts his hand down the front of her shirt, squeezing great soft handfuls of breast. He wants to pull down his pants and give it to her right then (the way he did once when he was seventeen with the ugly, fat girl who would do it with anyone, only he couldn’t get it in and came between the wet, moist crack in her ass). Amber puts her hand on his penis. She moans.
The car pulls up to a shabby walk-up building on the Lower East Side. He follows her up two flights of steps. Is it his imagination, or is she pushing her ass out at him? Or is it the shoes, the clunky platform sandals? He pushes her up against the wall of the landing. Puts his hand under her skirt. (She’s not wearing any underwear, and she’s hairy.) She pulls his hand away and puts her fingers in his mouth.
“I’m a really good fuck,” she says. “You’re not going to be disappointed.”
“I know I’m not,” he says.
It’s like a porno movie. Since when did girls become this easy? Why didn’t anyone tell him? (Why is she so easy?) They go into her apartment. It’s dark and dingy. Small. Messy. (Horribly messy.) There’s a mattress on the floor. She lies down and puts her legs up. “Fuck me, big boy,” she says. He unzips his pants and pulls them down. He crawls towards her. There’s a faint odor of garbage. He can’t tell if it’s coming from her apartment or the street below. He puts two fingers inside her. Then he puts himself inside her. She’s wet, but big. Enormous. It’s like an empty space in there. She’s bigger than Winnie, and Winnie’s had a baby.
What is he doing? What if Winnie finds out?
He comes.
He falls on top of her.
After a minute, he looks at her face. She isn’t looking at him. She’s looking up at the ceiling. Her face is blank. What is she thinking? Did she come?
“I should call my office,” she says.
James sits. He pulls up his pants. “That was great,” he says.
“Yeah. I know,” she says. She crawls off the bed and opens the tiny refrigerator. “I hope you don’t mind. I need a drink.” She pours herself half a glass of straight vodka. “Don’t look so shocked, James. I never judge anyone. Because it’s your problem, not mine. Right? If you have a problem with this, don’t give me a hard time about it. I don’t deserve it.”
“I know,” James says. Suddenly he feels horrible. The drugs have worn off. He’s exhausted. He feels dirty. (He is dirty.) He wishes he were back in his apartment, in his own bed, sleeping. If he
could just go to sleep, maybe when he woke up it would be like none of this ever happened.
“If you’re worried about my telling your wife, don’t,” Amber says. “I’m not that kind of girl. I don’t ever want you to think that I’m that kind of girl, because I’m not.”
“Okay,” James says cautiously.
She moves toward him and puts her hands on either side of his face. She kisses him on the lips. “You’ve never met anyone like me before in your life. You don’t have to worry about me. I’m your best friend.”
“I feel a little . . . anxious,” he says.
“Why didn’t you say so? I’ve got tons of pills. Xanax? Clonopin? Dexedrine?”
Dexedrine?
“Do you really know Winnie?” he says. Trying to sound casual.
“What do you think, James?” she says. “Duh.”
Winnie and Tanner are lying naked in his bed in his suite at Morgans Hotel. Winnie has her eyes closed. She’s smiling.
Tanner leans over and brushes her hair away from her face. He kisses her cheek. “Did you like that?” he asks softly.
“Oh yes,” she says.
(What she really wants to say is, That was the most mind-blowing fuck I’ve ever had in my life thank you very much and now I finally understand what a mind-blowing fuck is, but she isn’t that kind of girl.)
He cups her bottom and pulls her closer. She runs her hand over his back. (She wants to remember his body for the rest of her life. She will remember his body for the rest of her life. It’s perfect. Slightly tanned and hairless. Muscular but not overly built. Whoever said that men’s bodies don’t matter to women was wrong. She never knew that sex could be so clean. And beautiful. Tanner is so clean. She’s never seen such a clean man in her life. James has white skin and nobbly moles. And black pores where the blond hair springs out. Sometimes he has blackheads on his back.)
“Wanna do it again?” Tanner says.
“Can you?”