Shoe Strings

intent on eating, the
earlier threads of their conversation got lost in the jostling of plates and
shoveling of pizza.   When it came to
food, he had a one-track mind.   With
most of the food gone, his mind reeled back to the whole reason they sat alone
in a deserted cabin in the woods.   His unquenchable need for her.   “I’ll probably be hungry again in an
hour.”   Hungry for more than pizza.
“You want some more wine?”   He’d had
to ply her with a second glass.   She’d resisted as if drinking it would make her clothes fall off.  
    “No, I’ve had enough of that too.”   She looked around the cabin.   He itched to touch the ends of her dark
corkscrews as they bounced around her shoulders.   “There’s no TV in here?”
    “Nope.”   He
stretched his arm along the back of the futon.   “Jerry’s too stingy to spring for
cable.”
    “This is Jerry’s cabin?”
    “Yeah.   Would you
believe he’s a professor of English literature at WCU?”
    “You’re kidding.”   She looked around again and the ends of her hair teased his
fingers.   “Where are all his
books?   You’d think an English
professor would read in his spare time.”
    “Don’t know.”   He
opened the drawer of the end table and rooted through coasters and old
receipts.   “He’s got a deck of
cards.   Want to play?”
    She pursed her lips and considered.   “Play what?   I’m not much for cards.”
    “Strip poker” nearly slipped off his tongue, but he’d seen
how irritated she got whenever he’d insinuated a sexual relationship between
them.   He didn’t want to run the
risk of turning her off.   But after
six pieces of pizza and a couple beers, he couldn’t help himself.   “How about strip poker?”
    Fortunately, she took his comment in stride.
    “Very funny.   It’d only take two hands before I’d be naked.”   A very appealing blush crept into her
caramel skin, reminding him of the good girl wrapped in the sex kitten
body.  
    “So that’s a no?”
    She sat up and readjusted herself on the couch.   “Let’s just say if you want to get me
naked, it’s going to take more than just a winning poker hand.”
    That was more than he’d expected.   “What’ll it take, Angelita?”  
    “I didn’t mean it that way,” she said.   But her voice had taken on a husky
quality and the rapid rise and fall of her chest had him thinking no matter how
she meant it, it’d served to reignite their banked desire.
    Jesse lifted his arm and let his fingers twist the ends of
her hair.   “I know you were
kidding.”   But he moved closer and
let his fingertips wind deeper into her hair until they touched her scalp.   “Your hair’s still wet.”
    “A little,” she murmured and closed her eyes.  
    “You look so beautiful in the firelight.”  
    Her eyes sprang open as if she’d heard a gunshot.   She creased her brow and her lips
settled in a downward slant that made them all the more appealing.   “You have all the moves down.”   She angled her head so his fingers fell
to the cushion.   “Why do I feel like
the opening act for a summer full of romance for you?”
    She’d sucker punched him just when he was inching toward
more.   “Angelita, we’ve been through
this.   Getting involved with a woman
isn’t a part of my daily routine.”
    “Just the seasonal routine?”
    “Where is this coming from?   Do you need me to tell you I care?”   He ran a hand through his hair and tried
to calm his frustrations.   “Look, I
don’t know where you got the idea that I feel this way about every woman I
stumble across.   I’ve got an
impressionable son and a business to run.   Those two things keep me pretty busy most of the time.”
    “I’m sorry,” she said.   He’d surprised himself with the heat of his words.   Clearly, he’d surprised her too.   “I don’t indulge in casual affairs.”
    “I want you, Angelita.   There’s nothing casual about it.”   The choice, he understood, had to be hers.   Her eyes softened and, if possible,
became a deeper shade of brown.   He’d say or do anything to keep them that way.  
    “I’m no good with this stuff,” she admitted shyly.   “I can’t tell if you’re feeding me lines
or if you’re sincere.”
    He inched closer, tried not to push.   “What does your heart tell you?”
    “I can’t trust my heart.”   Her voice was only a whisper and her
hands rubbed furiously against her knees.  
    “Then