Dark Moon (6 page)

###

I woke up with a
jolt, confused by the bed that wasn’t mine, trying to remember where I was. It
only took a few seconds for all of it to come back to me. I stretched and
rolled over to look at Michael, but he wasn’t next to me in bed.

There was no clock
and my phone was in my purse in the other room, but I could tell the sun had
set because there wasn’t any light coming in around the edges of the curtains.

Although my
underwear and bra were in his bedroom, my jeans and shirt were somewhere in the
other room. I stood up, pulling the sheet with me, and wrapped it around my
naked body.

Michael wasn’t in
the main room, but I could hear clanging in the kitchen. When I got to the
doorway, he was stirring something in a pot. He was wearing baggy black pants
but hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on. I stared at him, taking in the full
effect of his muscular body.

“Hey,” I finally
said.

Michael turned
around and a smile lit up his face. “Hey, yourself, Sleepyhead,” he said
affectionately, walking over to kiss me.

“Sorry,” he said
apologetically, turning his attention back to the stove. “I don’t want this to
burn.”

“What time is it?”
I asked him.

“Just past seven,”
he replied. “I hated to leave you alone, but I figured I’d better start
dinner.”

“Need any help?” I
offered, walking towards him.

“No, just relax,
babe.”

I sat down in a
seat at the kitchen table. “I’ll just watch you work, then,” I said.

“You should go
grab one of my shirts,” Michael suggested. “I know you have a change of clothes
in your car, but you’ll need those for tomorrow, right? What time is your first
class?”

“Nine,” I said,
“but I have to swing by my dorm room first. I don’t have my books or laptop.” I
groaned. “Don’t mention tomorrow; I don’t want tonight to ever end.”

I walked over to
the stove. “What are you making?”

“Spaghetti and
meatballs with homemade tomato sauce.”

“It smells
delicious,” I said. “And I do want to get one of your shirts. Would you mind if
I took a shower first?”

“Of course not,
but I hope you don’t…regret what happened earlier.”

“No way,” I
assured him. “I just feel a bit sweaty, like I’ve had a long workout at the
gym.”

Michael laughed.
“I wish I could join you,” he said, pulling me in for a kiss.

“Me, too.”

“You can take any
shirt you want,” Michael called as I headed to get a shower. “Top drawer on the
left.”

I turned on the
tap, adjusted the temperature and stepped into the hot shower. I didn’t like
the feeling that I was washing Michael off of me, but I knew I’d get to touch
him again soon. And I really was sweaty.

When I got out, I
wrapped the towel around myself and headed for Michael’s bedroom. I chose a
plain black t-shirt that hung down to my thighs. It felt a little strange not
wearing underwear.
Maybe I can ask Michael to get my backpack out of the
car.

I walked into the
kitchen. Michael was sitting at the square table, sipping a glass of red wine.
The room was dim, and he’d lit the candles that were on a shelf on the wall.  “I’m
disappointed,” he said when he saw me.

“What?” I crossed
my arms in front of my chest self-consciously.

“I was hoping
you’d pick a white shirt,” he said in a flirty voice, “so that I could see your
body through it.”

I laughed and
walked over to where he was sitting. Michael motioned for me to sit on his lap.

“No,” he said.
“The other way around. Straddle me.”

Heart racing, I
spread my legs and planted them on either side of Michael, facing him.

“Now that’s
better.” We were kissing again; I couldn’t get enough of Michael and it was
obvious that he felt the same way about me. He reached around under the
oversized shirt and cupped my butt. Even though we had just had sex a few hours
before, I could feel him getting hard again.

He pulled away.
“I’d better stir this,” he said reluctantly.

“I can watch it.
Would you mind getting my backpack out of my car? I wanted to put on
underwear.”

“You’re sexy
without underwear,” he said, “but okay.”

I walked to the
living room to grab my purse, pulling both my phone and my keys out. I hadn’t
looked at my phone for hours and it showed that I had three missed calls and
four text messages. I would look at them in a minute.

Back in the
kitchen, I handed Michael my keys and started stirring the delicious smelling
sauce while he went to the car. With my free hand, I looked at the text
messages first. All of them were from Maryanne.

How’s it going?
the first one said. The next two had a note of concern.
Please let me
know you’re okay. You’ve only just met this guy.
That one was a little
irritating, but I could see her point. The last one she had sent around five p.m.
said that if she didn’t hear from me she was going to call the hospital to try
to get Michael’s number.

Shit.
I
hope she hasn’t already done that.
Two of the missed calls were from
Maryanne, and the third was from my mom. She had been calling more frequently
over the last few weeks, but I hadn’t called her back yet.

My top priority
was to text Maryanne.
Sorry, everything is fine. I’m having a wonderful
evening. Be back tomorrow morning before class.
I hit send.

Almost immediately
Maryanne replied.
Okay, thanks, have fun!

She was probably
miffed at me for making her worry, but what was the big deal? How well did
she
know the guys she hooked up with?

Michael came back
into the kitchen and set my backpack down on the floor. I pulled out my underwear
and quickly slipped them on, acutely aware that Michael was watching me.

When the food was
ready, Michael clicked a remote and turned on low music in the background. I
started to get up from the chair to help, but Michael held up his hand.

He brought over
the plates of food and topped up our red wine glasses. The dish looked and
smelled incredible, and when I finally got to try it, I wasn’t disappointed.
Michael was an excellent cook.

“This is
delicious,” I said. “Where did you learn to cook like this?”

“I didn’t start
cooking until I was through with school,” Michael admitted. He shrugged. “I watched
shows on TV, looked up recipes online. It wasn’t really that difficult.”

“Well, you’re
definitely a natural,” I told him. “Maryanne and I are terrible. We order
takeout all the time.”

“I did in college,
too,” Michael replied. “Who has time to cook when every day is spent in class,
studying or doing schoolwork?” He paused. “Hey, I’m not keeping you from work,
am I?”

“No,” I said. “I
had been planning to get a jump start on one of my econ projects, but this is
much more fun.”

We chatted
comfortably about our lives, our interests. I found out that Michael was an
avid runner and had completed three marathons. Normally I don’t want to hear
the details of other peoples’ lives, but with Michael, I wanted to hear
everything
.

“I know this is a
weird question,” I said, “but how on earth are you single?”

He laughed. “I’m
hesitant to get involved with a woman. I didn’t used to be so cynical, but I
found that so many women only wanted to date me because I was going to become a
doctor. You know, that clichéd fantasy of marrying a doctor and living happily
ever after?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I
can see that being an issue, but I don’t believe that’s the
only
reason
they wanted to date you.” Michael was gorgeous and the most charming man I’d
ever met.

“I don’t know,” he
said skeptically. “I’ve been burned before.”

“What happened?”

“I had a
girlfriend while I was in med school. I thought she was the real thing, but
later discovered she just liked telling everyone that her boyfriend was a
doctor. Plus, she was cheating on me.”

“What kind of
idiot would cheat on
you
?” I blurted out.

Michael grinned,
raking his hands through his dark hair. “Let’s not talk about exes. All that
matters is this moment.”

He stood up and
walked to the fridge. “Chocolate mousse for dessert,” he said, setting down a
glass between us.

“I’m stuffed!” I
exclaimed. “But I really can’t resist chocolate. Is this homemade?”

“Yes, but don’t be
too impressed. It’s an easy dessert to make,” he said.

Michael fed me a
bite. It was fluffy and delicious. He leaned in to kiss me. “You taste like
chocolate,” he teased.

We were sitting
next to each other at the small table. Michael pulled my chair closer to his. I
fed him a bite of the mousse before we started kissing again. We continued
kissing and eating.

In no time we were
more intent on each other than the dessert. The soft kisses became more
demanding. I slid my hand between Michael’s legs and he groaned. “I love it
when you touch me,” he said.

His hands were
under my shirt, touching every inch of my skin. “Michael, I want you so badly,”
I said softly.

“Are you too sore
from earlier?” he asked me.

“No, I’m fine.”

“Stay here.”
Michael stood up. He went to the bedroom for a condom.

When he got back,
he grabbed my hand to pull me upright and walked over to the sink. Wordlessly,
Michael lifted me up so that I was sitting on the counter.

He leaned in close
to my ear, his husky voice barely above a whisper. “I showed you how to make
love earlier; now I want to show you how to fuck.”

His words sent shivers
up and down my spine. Michael pulled my panties off in one motion. “I don’t
want to hurt you,” he said. “Tell me if it’s too rough.”

I nodded, unable
to speak. Michael easily pushed himself inside me. With one hand behind my head
so that it didn’t bang into the cabinets, he moved in and out of me. It was
fast, aggressive. I liked it. I wrapped my legs around his waist and put my
hands on his hips, pulling him back and forth.

“I’m really
close,” he moaned. Michael stepped back.

“What’s wrong?” I
asked.

He gave me a wicked
grin. “Nothing is wrong. Everything is perfect.” And for the second time that
day, Michael’s head was between my legs. I writhed in pleasure. He reached up,
touching my hard nipples. After I had cum, he kissed my thighs softly.

I was breathing
heavily. “You’re so sexy,” he said, going back inside me, moving forward and
backwards, pounding into me.

“Fuck me,” I heard
myself saying. And then Michael was cumming again, pulling my body against his
and making a sexy grunting sound.

“That was crazy,”
he said, struggling to catch his breath.

I wrapped my arms
around his neck. Michael took me by the waist and lifted me off the counter.

“Sorry if I got a
little carried away.” Michael seemed so vulnerable after we had sex.

“Don’t be silly,”
I told him.

“I guess I’d
better clean up this mess,” he said reluctantly.

“I’ll help,” I
offered.

“No, I’ll do it.
Do you want to watch a movie or something? I have a bunch of DVDs in the
cabinet by the TV.”

“Alright, I’ll
take a look.” I picked my underwear up off the floor. They were soaked. No way
I was putting those back on.

Michael was
staring at me. “You were so wet,” he said. I looked away. “Hey,” he said
softly, “touching my cheek. Nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s a huge turn
on. I just can’t believe I have that effect on you.”

I smiled. “You
drive me absolutely insane,” I said honestly.

I turned to go
check out his DVD selection. He slapped my ass playfully.

Fifteen minutes
later, we were cuddled up on the couch, a big blanket covering us. I was lying
on my side, with my head on Michael’s lap, and he was stroking my hair
affectionately. I had picked
ConAir
, which I had seen a million times.

We watched the
movie in silence, but I wasn’t paying much attention. I closed my eyes,
breathing in his intoxicating scent. I was struggling to stay awake. About
halfway through the movie, Michael shook me lightly.

“Hey, you want to
go to bed?” he asked me. He laughed. “We both keep falling asleep.”

“Sure,” I said,
sitting up. I was exhausted, and practically fell into bed after brushing my
teeth. Michael slept on his back and I nestled into the crook of his arm, going
to sleep almost immediately.

###

The next morning
came all too soon. I had forgotten to set an alarm, but it didn’t look that
light outside yet. I could hear the water running and figured Michael must be
in the shower.

I climbed out of
bed and went to find my phone. I had left it in the kitchen.
Phew. It’s only
just past six.

There was a pot of
coffee on the counter, so I poured a cup and sat down at the kitchen table,
pulling my pocket mirror out of my purse to study my reflection. My hair was
matted, but otherwise I didn’t look too bad. Most of the makeup I’d borrowed
from Maryanne had come off because of sweat or the shower I took.

A few minutes
later, Michael walked into the kitchen. He had a towel around his waist and his
hair was damp and messy. He walked over and kissed me. “Hey, beautiful,” he
said.

I smiled. “I don’t
want to leave. I don’t want this to end.”

“Don’t think about
it like that. This is the beginning, not the end.” He paused. “In case you
haven’t figured it out, I’m crazy about you. But I don’t want anyone at work to
know you’re my girlfriend, not yet at least.”

His girlfriend.
I liked the sound of that. “I agree,” I said, trying to keep the excitement
out of my voice. “It would just cause stupid gossip.”

“I have to leave
in about half an hour,” Michael said apologetically. “I had been hoping you’d
wake up when you heard the shower and come join me.”