I turn to face him.
“I’m crashing with some roommates. My room is more of a closet. PETA would go crazy if someone kept a dog in there – a struggling musician, however, is just fine.”
He lets out a deep, two-tone laugh. “That bad, huh?”
I nod a little, then laugh a little.
“Shit. All I seem to do these days is complain,” I say. “I’m getting tired of myself. What about you? I still have no idea who you are, or where you’re from.”
“I hate life stories,” he tells me. “I prefer living in the present.”
I turn to him and see that he’s watching me intently as he says it. Suddenly I feel like a rabbit in the headlights of his piercing brown eyes. He reaches over and strokes my hair lightly away from my face, rough fingers tickling my tense neck slightly. My body – and it’s my body that decides, not me – reacts by pressing my cheek against the back of his hand, nuzzling the tough skin.
The cab seems to rev up to lightspeed when he leans in, the city streets turning into a blur of stars, the feeling of being pinned back into the seat by acceleration hitting my gut. I close my eyes and feel full lips kiss my neck delicately, from the nape to the back of my ear, a trace of desiring tongue. I tilt my head back, inviting him to do more of whatever he’s doing, and melt into the seat. He blows softly against the sweat on my neck, and the butterflies in my stomach go crazy, his cool breath giving me goosebumps. I part my lips, breath short, and wait for what comes next.
“We’re here,” he says. I open my eyes and turn slowly, like I’m waking up from a deep sleep.
The cab smoothly stops and Brando smiles as he puts his hand on the door handle.
I feel like someone just cancelled my birthday.
Brando pays the driver, steps out, and has my door open before I can even find the door handle. All swagger and grace, despite his size. I step out and before I even stumble his hand is pressing against my side, holding me up.
“Careful,” he winks, when I look up at him.
He keeps his hand pressed against my waist all the way through the large entrance of the red-brick apartment block and into the elevator. He pushes the top button, and we look at each other as the doors shut. The second they draw close, it’s like a starting gun. Without a word we leap into each other, Brando pulling my tense body against his hard chest. His hands instinctively go to the back of my thighs, lifting me off the floor with ease and wrapping my legs around him.
Our tongues crash together, and I get a full hit of Brando’s dark, powerful aroma. I put my hands on his cheeks, guiding my lips into his, the tough, sandpaper-stubble scratching at my palms.
The doors open and the next thing I know, he’s carrying me into a gigantic loft apartment. I can tell he’s craving me, I can smell the animal nitrate coming off of him, feel the way his body is starting to take over his mind. For a few seconds it feels like I’m lashed to a boat in the storm, about to be carried away by this beast of a man. My heart starts to race, my breath shortening.
“Wait,” I say, pushing myself away from his lips with what little willpower I have left. He releases me, placing me gently on the floor. I shyly look away. “This is…really new for me.”
Brando’s lips curve into a broad smile. He laughs a little as he wipes my lipgloss from his lips, his stubble sounding like a brush as he wipes his fingers across it.
“Things never stay new for long.”
I smile meekly and fold my arms across my chest.
“Make yourself comfortable,” he says, taking off his coat to reveal a tight-fitting shirt that hugs all the deep grooves of his torso. “I’ll go get us a couple of drinks. Then we can talk more.”
I watch Brando swagger off through a side door. The second he disappears, being here in this huge, strange loft with a guy I barely know feels even more crazy. It’s only when I turn around nervously, scanning my surroundings, that it starts making sense.
One length of the loft is a floor to ceiling window, with a view that seems to pan over the busiest, most picturesque part of LA. A silhouette of glass towers against a star-filled sky. It’s remarkable, and yet I barely give it a second glance. The real focus for me is the rest of the room.