Devil's Work

"I don't really know."

She worked her way up and down his spine. James held his breath as her fingers knitted and kneaded his skin. She was rocking back and forth with little motions of her hips all the while, and now and then he heard her grunt or gasp with exertion. He pictured how her mouth might look while she did and was suddenly glad he was lying facedown. "You have such a sexy back," she said.

"Are you insane?"

"You're not the first to suggest it." The dangling ends of her long hair tickled him. The thick bedspread and overstuffed mattress sank under their combined weight, making him feel like he was floating in a great, lazy ocean. He'd only had a little wine, but it was making him lightheaded even so. Amber leaned over as far as she could and James felt the curve of her breasts. The heat told him that she had pulled her nightgown down. Swallowing, he indicated without speaking that she should sit up a little and let him roll onto his back. She was smiling down him.

"Now was that so hard?" she said.

"Yes."

She leaned in for a kiss. After a few more, he kissed her back; her lips were strange and unfamiliar. Her naked breasts pressed against his chest and he put his arms around her, hands settling rather uncertainly beneath her shoulders. Her hair was everywhere; its scent was familiar and he realized she must use the same shampoo Nakia did. Not surprising really, he thought, it's just the cheap kind that's always on sale at the Walgreens. "This stuff is all the same anyway," Nakia always said, never bothering with the pricy, $40 a bottle stuff with the women on the label who looked like—

His attention swung back to the present as Amber kissed his bare chest. She slithered down the front of him, keeping her eyes on his as she did. The silky fabric of her nightgown slid against his skin; it felt cool. He heard the thunder outside again, louder this time. He imagined the tiny, fake room as a lifeboat in a stormy sea. James fumbled with his belt buckle but and she helped him shimmy out of his trousers. She leaned over again so that her breasts were just a few inches from his face, cupping them for him. "You like?"

He kissed one, just above the nipple. She giggled. He kissed the other, tasting the warm, soft flesh. She pressed his face between them and he tickled the spot there with the tip of his tongue. She shivered in his arms. He let his hands creep down her back; she was smooth all over. The bulge in his underwear pressed up against the space between her thighs, and when she moved she rubbed back and forth over it. A sense of tightness that had long dwelled right in the center of his chest migrated downward and was, he suspected, seeking the most obvious and immediate outlet.

She scooped her head up in her hands, rubbing her naked body over his face, letting his open mouth and tongue wander. The motion of her hips nudged him along, and his hands, explored the curves of her thighs and the sculpted cheeks of her ass. She let out one, honest, genuine moan when he grabbed her there and squeezed, struck with a compulsion that was almost reflexive, and then she was wrapped around him with her mouth on his, her body wriggling in his arms as she pushed into him as hard as she could.

They tumbled over each other, James landing on top, Amber positioned beneath him with her thighs open. "Wait," she said, fumbling for a second with a little tea box by the bedside; it was full of condoms. It had been years since he'd had to use one with Nakia and it felt strange. But once Amber's arms were back around him he forgot all about it.

He hesitated before pushing into her; should he, really? It's too late to back out now, he thought...and then he realized, no, it wasn't. He could if he really wanted to. He could do whatever he wanted. Everything was up to him. Amber gasped as he slid inside; she felt hot. Strange, he thought, to spend so much time trying to escape the heat and now to leap right back into it. But it was a good heat. The curves of her body were soft and inviting. She was open, accepting him in with a gasp and a moan every time he thrust. Slow or fast didn't seem to matter. Grabbing the headboard with one hand he rocked back and forth, in and out of her, letting the bedframe strain underneath them. She half-propped herself up on her elbows to allow him better leverage, and when he slid up further into her she threw he head back and shuddered. His fingers gripped the headboard so tight he worried he might bruise them. But he didn't stop.

The thunder was very loud now. Their faces were only a few inches apart and she was punctuating each moan with a little kiss and breathless words of encouragement. "That's it," she said. "That's it. That's good. More..." She cried out and arched her back again, and James pushed her down underneath him, holding her squirming body tight. Just a little more now...just a little more...just—

And then, outside, they both heard it, very distinctly: the first drops of rain falling on the roof.

Afterwards, she snuggled up against him, stroking his cheek. He didn't catch his breath for quite a while. "I was wrong," she said.

"Huh?"

"It rained after all."

"Oh. Yes." He listened to the sound of the rain in the dark outside. "Everyone's wrong sometimes, I guess."

***

It was almost a year until James saw the Driver again. Passing a park bench in front of St. Peter and Paul Cathedral he noticed that the man sitting on it was smiling at him, but it took him a moment to realize who it was. Startled, he sat down without thinking, and the Driver slapped him on the shoulder once by way of greeting. It was a cool day, with a breeze.

"Where's your cab?" James said.

"Sold it," said the Driver. "I'm going to travel again. See some sights. Thought I'd say goodbye first."

"That was considerate."

The Driver shrugged. "Don't keep me in suspense: How'd things turn out with you and Nakia?"

"Fine," James said. "Actually, not fine. But we worked it out."

"That's great."

"She had an affair."

The Driver choked. "The whole time?"

"Later. A revenge thing. But she couldn't deal with it. Too much guilt."

"Human nature."

James looked at the driver. "Was it your idea?"

"Hey man, I never even met her."

"But still: Did you know? Did you..."

"Make it happen?" The Driver's tone suggested contempt, but James just looked at him, expecting. "Look, I don't make people do bad things, all right?" he said. "I don't have to. You've all got that covered."

"You brought me to see Amber."

"But I didn't make you fuck her. You could have left."

"Yes, I could have. But you know what I realized later? That massage that caused all the problems: The money I used was the fare you wouldn't accept a couple days before."

"How about that?"

James stared at him some more. The Driver took off his sunglasses.

"All I did was take you where you wanted to go. Wasn't that my job?"

James looked down. "I guess."

"But you're right: I was bad for you. I never do good for people even when I try. Been that way since the beginning. But that's life. Gotta take it as it comes."

He held out his hand. After a moment's hesitation, James shook it. "Where will you go now?"

"Not sure yet," the Driver said. "But even when you're as old as I am, there's always someplace new."

James stood. His knees shook. "I wish I understood you. Are you even real? Are we having this conversation?"

"I'm real enough," said the Driver. "And I'll see you down the line. I never forget a friend. Say hi to the Nakia for me. You've got good things coming to you. Don't fuck them up."

And then he was gone.