Robin Wasserman - Lust

“Adam,” Beth began tentatively, “don’t you think maybe you’ve had enough?”

He brushed her off and charged ahead. “No such thing!” he called back, before disappearing into the darkness.

Beth froze in the lobby, not sure what to do. A few tinted paper lanterns hung from the ceiling, casting an eerie, shadowy pall over everything. There was no electricity, and they’d decided against candles (nice ambience but overwhelming likelihood of disaster), so they were stuck with the dim reddish lighting of the battery-powered lanterns and the few shafts of moonlight filtering in through the lobby windows.

She and Adam had been one of the last couples to leave the dance, so all the seniors on the secret invite list had already showed up-the place was packed, but in the darkness, Beth couldn’t pick out any familiar faces. There were only strangers, blank bodies bouncing in time with the music or squeezed in together on one of the couches, ignoring the crowd. She was so tired, and so alone.

And she’d been feeling that way for hours-despite glimpses of sobriety and sweet moments of romance, Adam had spent the end of the night in a vodka haze, laughing it up with his friends while Beth stood awkwardly on the fringes, with only Kaia to talk to. And so, with no one to talk to at all.

Now she was on the fringes again, with Adam nowhere to be seen. She felt invisible, and yet totally exposed. As if everyone in the room was watching her, knowing with certainty that she didn’t belong. And indeed, if it weren’t for the Adam connection, she never would have been there-all of her old friends were probably home in bed, or sitting up in Lara Tanner’s basement eating ice cream and watching old black-and-white movies. Much as she wished she was with them, she just didn’t belong there anymore-too bad she didn’t seem to belong here, either.

She looked around in vain for someone she knew, someone she could talk to-even Kaia, at this point, would have been a relief. But it was as if the moment they’d stepped through the door together, everyone else had been pulled off into some kind of vortex. Vanished. And here she was, alone.

She supposed this wasn’t the kind of party where you made small talk, anyway. It was the kind where you passed out on one of the dusty couches, or threw yourself into a sweaty mass of dancers-or you did what she’d come here to do.

She could always go home, she guessed. Call a taxi, get out of here, escape. Forget this night had ever happened, forget about the supposed fresh start, about what she’d been planning to do. Save it for some other time.

The place was a skanky mess.

Adam had morphed into a drunken idiot.

But Beth had waited long enough to know that perfection wasn’t coming-tonight was just going to have to do.

And maybe finding the keg first wasn’t such a bad idea.

“Think we can go somewhere a bit more… private?” Kaia whispered to Kane, running a hand down the small of his back.

“Say no more.”

They threaded their way through the crowd in the lobby, away from the flickering light and the echoing music. Up the stairs, down a long, dark, narrow hallway, ignoring the shadowy shapes pressed against the walls, the bodies writhing together. Into a small, dark room at the end of the hall, the faded drapes drawn, allowing a slash of moonlight to cut through the room. It lit Kaia’s hands as she slowly unbuttoned Kane’s shirt. Their bodies remained in shadow, figures silhouetted against the night.

“Not quite the penthouse suite,” Kane admitted ruefully, his fingers expertly unhooking her bra as they stumbled together toward the bed.

“Not quite.” Kaia lay back and pulled him down on top of her, pressing herself against his tight body, relishing the heavy weight bearing down on her. “But it’ll do.” And so would Kane. He wasn’t the catch he imagined himself to be-but he was hot, he was cocky, and, most importantly, he was there. Sometimes Kaia needed a challenge-but sometimes she just needed a break.

She pulled him toward her, closed her eyes, and let herself go.

Along with copious amounts of alcohol, Kane had also supplied the party with two wooden barrels filled with condoms, positioned considerately just inside the door.

As Adam blundered off in search of more to drink, Beth had surreptitiously grabbed one and slipped it into her purse-and then, on second thought, she’d grabbed a handful more.

Now, an hour further into the night, her bold act was beginning to seem like a total waste. They were still down in the lobby amidst a group of Adam’s drunken teammates; Beth’s head was throbbing, and as Adam regaled a cluster of admirers with a story of last year’s basketball triumph, he leaned against her heavily, as if without her support he would drop to the ground.

“Adam, let’s take off,” she whispered urgently, when he finally stopped talking.

“You wanna go home?” he slurred. “Party’s just starting. Right, guys?”

The “guys,” whose shunted-aside dates all looked about as nonplussed as Beth felt, let out a hearty cheer of support.

“Not home,” she explained in a low voice. “Upstairs.”

“She wants to go upstairs!” he crowed to the crowd. “Lez go, honey. You want me, you got me.”

Irritated and humiliated-but knowing how hard it had been to prepare herself for this night and determined to finally go through with it-Beth allowed Adam to shepherd her into the dark bowels of the hotel, where they finally found an unoccupied room and slipped inside.

“Beth,” he said, seeming to sober up a bit now that he was away from the noise and the people and the stench of beer, “I feel like shit. Maybe we should just head home.”

“I don’t think you want to go home yet, Adam. This is your lucky day,” she said, trying to sound more brazen than she felt. Beth had never had to make a first move in her life, and she had no idea what to do. But how hard could it be? All guys ever wanted was sex, any time, all the time, right? So she just needed to let him know that a new option had been added to the menu, and hopefully he’d do the rest.

“I want you, Adam,” she said in what she hoped was a sexy voice. “Now.”

She pushed him down on the bed, and he landed with a thud, knocking his head against the wooden headboard.

Oops.

“Jesus, are you trying to kill me?” he shouted, rubbing the back of his head.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She hopped into the bed, kissing the bruise gently. “This isn’t going the way I wanted it to.”

“What isn’t?” he asked in confusion.

“This. Tonight. Right now,” she told him, kissing him again, more urgently.

“What’s right now?”

Why couldn’t he just get it? Why was he making this so hard for her?

“Right now is when-when I tell you that I’m finally ready,” Beth admitted. She bit the inside of her cheek and nervously waited for him to say something. Who knows-maybe he didn’t even want her anymore. Maybe that’s what all this had been about.

He sat up, couldn’t see her face in the darkness, but reached out a hand to touch her cheek, as if trying to read her expression.

“Ready? For…?”

She nodded, and then realized he couldn’t see her. “Yes.”

“Now?”

“Yes.” And she kissed him, and he kissed her back, eagerly, hungrily, and they rolled over on the bed together, drinking each other in, their bodies lost in each other, and then-they stopped.

Beth tensed, her back clenched and her muscles stiffening, as they always did, just before she reached the point of no return. He pulled away, and she lay on her back, breathing quickly, glad it was too dark for him to see the tears that were leaking from her tightly closed eyes.