A Song for Julia

his lips against my neck.
    I let out a small moan as his lips brushed against my ears, and his right hand cupped my breast. Then his other hand dropped down, between my legs, and I pressed back against him, hard. He pulled me against him, tighter, and I twisted my head to the left and met his lips. His tongue slipped into my mouth, and I closed my eyes, whimpering.
    “Hold still,” he said and broke away from me. The sudden separation was almost painful. But then he was back, and he whispered, “Got to wash that hair,” and he began to rub shampoo into my hair, running his fingers against my scalp, massaging.
    “I love your hair,” he said. “I could do this all day.”
    I could too. My body was slick with the shampoo, sliding against his, as he slowly rinsed my hair, then he began to rub the little bottle of hotel conditioner into my hair. It was all I could do to stay breathing as he nipped at my left ear with his teeth and then began rubbing body wash all over me.
    The tension was killing me. My whole body was tingling, and I was breathing in short, rapid breaths. I had to do something to get control, and I whispered, “Why should I give you what you want after you left me hanging last night?”
    He growled in my ear, “Because neither of us can stop now.”
    Oh, dear God, he was right. He ran his hands over every inch of my body, my breasts, my back, my butt … setting the nerves of my entire body on fire. After he rinsed me, he turned off the water. Immediately, goosebumps popped up, and he reached out of the shower, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around me. Then he stepped out and dried himself quickly while I watched. He was beautiful, not built massively, but muscular everywhere it counted. I held my breath as I watched. Then he looked up and met my eyes. “Bed. Now.”
    He didn’t have to ask twice.

    I have to go (Crank)
    For the hundredth time, I found myself wishing I’d quit smoking a long time ago, as we ran up the terminal for our plane, which was departing in less than twenty minutes. Still I kept up with Julia, who it turns out was a frickin’ athlete. I’d had good sex in my day. But, wow.
    Before you think I’m a complete pig … never mind. I am. I was intentionally running behind her as we tore through the terminal.
    We arrived at the gate with thirty seconds to spare. Bless her for those first class tickets, because that put us in the first row of the plane. Both of us got to our seats, put away our backpacks, buckled up, then leaned against each other gasping for air as the attendants closed the doors of the plane and prepared for takeoff.
    I leaned close and whispered, “You’re gonna need another shower.”
    She whacked me on the shoulder. I grinned, pleased with myself.
    “So … what next?”
    She made a face at me. “You can sleep or whatever. I’ve got a paper to finish.”
    Damn.
    Once we hit altitude, she had her laptop out. I read the in-flight magazine (boring), watched the movie (also boring, some chick flick), and then I read over her shoulder (most boring, she was writing an economics paper).
    On the other hand, when I was reading over her shoulder, I could smell her. And that was nice.
    After a few minutes of her typing and me studying her very close up, she asked in a half-amused voice, “What are you doing ?”
    “Learning about economics,” I replied in the smoothest voice I could muster.
    She snorted. “What exactly have you learned so far?”
    I gave her my best charming smile, and then with a completely straight face, I said, “That some things are incredibly rare and precious. ”
    Okay. I was hamming it up. But screw it. I wanted more than occasional companionship and sex. I wanted her.
    She scrunched up her nose at me and went back to typing. Damn it.
    She finally finished the paper, and the plane landed. Half an hour later, we were in the car, headed back to my place to meet with the band. I’d called this morning and told them all to be there. I didn’t say why. Now, riding in the car with Julia, I could feel the anticipation building. They were going to completely freak. But as crazy as it sounds, my mind wasn’t even on that.
    It was on the fact that Julia was driving back to my place. Now. At night.
    “What do you have going on tomorrow?”
    “Studying,” she answered. “Why?”
    “Why don’t you stay over?”
    Her eyes darted to me, then back to the road. And she was silent. For a really long time. Finally she said, “Crank … I