If You Want It

She looked scared. I tried to do up my pants.

"Was... wasn't that okay?" she said. "You didn't tell me how you want to do it. Did you want to just fuck me instead?"

"No! You don't need to do anything like that. That's not why you're here."

"I want to," she said, but her face and her tone screamed just the opposite.

I scooted around her to get the hotel robe. I turned away while she stood and put it on. Wrapped in the big white robe, she stood with her arms around her, still focused on the floor.

"You thought I brought you here for sex?"

"Of course. What else?"

"What else? What I said! So you could be warm. Safe. So we could look at ways to sell your artwork. So I could help you a little!"

Kayla shrank from me like she expected to be hit.

I was angry. At myself for not making myself clear, at her for not understanding, angry at the entire horrible situation.

"Is this what you do? Have sex for money? Or favors?"

Kayla turned away. "No. Never. This... is the first time."

"So then why? Why now? With me?"

A pause. "I need a place to stay. You said you'd buy me a bus ticket. I figured it wouldn't be so bad with you. You're... kinda nice. And I owe you."

Oh, God, it was awful.

Quietly, I said, "You don't owe me anything, Kayla. And certainly not sex. No one ever owes anyone that."

Silence.

I took a breath. "I'm sorry. I didn't explain properly at the restaurant. I'm bad at that. I thought I was clear. I never thought for a moment that you thought... you know. I've just never dealt with..."

She flicked damp eyes up at me. "Street people?"

"Desperation. Someone who's trapped. Having no money. I don't know. Fuck!"

She tensed up and shied away again.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to yell," I said. "I'm just... mad at myself."

Kayla hurried past me, grabbing her backpack and ran into the bathroom. When she emerged, she was dressed in fresh clothes. She pulled her coat from the closet and reached for the door.

"Wait! Don't leave. Kayla... Please!"

She paused and looked at me.

I said, "Please... you don't have to leave. It was a misunderstanding. It's okay." I gestured to my laptop. "Please... at least let me show you what I found. Places you can sell your artwork."

I sat back down at the desk. Kayla crept over to look over my shoulder as I paged through some works for sale.

"They charge a lot," she said quietly. "And a lot of it is complete crap."

We looked at several sites. She already knew some of them, but I had found others. She said could access the Internet at a library, but when we looked at the terms of service for the sites, how artists got their work to customers and how they got paid, it occurred to me then that the real problem was logistics.

She needed to taking photos of her work to post on line, find a way to mount and shipping her works, a credit card and a bank account. These were tremendous obstacles for someone who didn't have an address. I suddenly began to understand why the poor tended to stay poor, no matter their abilities or how hard they worked.

"It's not going to work until I have a place to stay and some money to get started," she said. "You're right though... I can make a lot more. My work is a better than a lot of that stuff."

I got up so she could sit and look through more of the offerings herself. Eventually, she set down her coat and backpack as she studied how the sites worked and what others had for sale. Soon she forgot about leaving and was engrossed.

It had been a long, difficult day at the client's site and after the drama with Kayla I just needed to veg out. I propped myself up on my bed to watch TV until she was finished.

The drone of the TV and the warmth of the room must have lulled me to sleep. I woke with daylight peeking though a crack in the curtains. I had fallen asleep in my clothes and slept the entire night. I never did that.

The other bed had been slept in, but Kayla was gone. Looking around the room, I discovered that my laptop, watch, phone and the money and credit cards from my wallet were gone too.

Shit.

Without my laptop, I couldn't do my work, and replacing my phone and credit cards would take forever. I didn't want to call the police, but how else could I find her? Could I find her downtown, somehow? I thought through the options. Perhaps I could tell the police some story about being worried about her and needing to find her. Or something. I had no experience with such a situation. I had no good ideas.

I had just picked up the room telephone when there was a sound at the door of the room. I opened it and looked down to find my laptop and a plastic bag with everything else at my feet. Kayla was hurrying down the hallway towards the fire exit.

"Hey, wait!" I shouted and ran after her.

When she turned, it looked like she had been crying. Then I saw the knife held loosely in her shaking hand.

"Don't you fucking touch me," she wailed.

"Whoa," I said, stepping back with palms up. "I'm not going to hurt you. Are you okay? What happened? Why did you leave?"

"You got your stuff back. Now leave me alone!" she cried, then "Wait. Did... did you call the cops?"

"No. I didn't want to do that. And since you've brought everything back, I don't have to. Thank you so much, Kayla. That really saves me."

She blinked away tears and sniffed. "You're not supposed to thank someone who just robbed you, you know."

"Sorry," I said, "it's my first time."

Kayla gaped at me like I was mentally impaired. The knife had vanished.

"Anyway," I said, "what happened to 'beg, borrow but not steal?'"

"I said I TRY not to steal. And I don't. Mostly. But I didn't think you'd buy me a bus ticket after you getting so mad. Your stuff was just laying there when I woke up. I figured you wouldn't miss it. I figured I'd be long gone before you woke up."

"I see. So... what changed your mind?"

She looked down and shrugged. "I dunno. When I got down to the lobby, I felt bad. When I got stuck here... when everything went to hell, I promised myself... no stealing. No booze. No sex for money. You were nothing but nice to me. You trusted me. And I fucking betrayed you."

She started to tear up again.

My phone started ringing from inside the bag by my door. I looked from it back to Kayla. I held up a finger. "I have to get that... just... please, don't leave. Can you come back and talk?" I ran to get my phone.

While I was talking, Kayla slowly crept up back up the hallway, looking wary. I gestured for her to come into the room while I picked everything up and walked inside, holding the door for her as I tried to make sense of what my client was saying on the phone.

"...closed? But it's my last day here. There's a lot left to do. What? No, I haven't. Not yet." I walked to the window and opened the curtains.

It was blinding white. The snow had finally arrived and it must have been coming down all night; everything was deeply blanketed. No cars were on the street, and I saw no plows. My client explained that they were staying closed for the day as was almost everything else in town. I would have to stay one more day.

Kayla was standing in the doorway. I motioned to her to look through the window. Cautiously she stepped inside. She grumbled when she saw the snow.

I hung up and told her I wasn't going anywhere that day.

"And you're really not gonna call the cops?" she said.

"I don't need that. You certainly don't need that. It's my fault, anyway."

"Yeah... for trusting me."

"No, no. I wasn't clear. I yelled at you. And it probably didn't help that I fell asleep on you. I didn't even make sure you had everything you needed. It must have felt like I didn't care, or like I was still mad. Especially after our, uh, misunderstanding."

Kayla looked down. "I'm sorry I did that last night." She started blinking. "I'm sorry I took your stuff. I said I'd never to those things, no matter what." She started to sob.

Tentatively, I reached out to hold her. Kayla gently pressed herself against me as she cried.

"Everything is so fucking hard. I can't get a job. There's nowhere to go. I don't know anyone. People either treat me like garbage or pretend I'm not there. You're the first person to really be nice to me and I turn into a thief and a... a whore!"

I held her. "You did what you thought you needed to do. I'd do the same thing in your situation. Actually, no... I'd be dead behind a dumpster after the first day. I wouldn't be anywhere near as resourceful as you. Look... it'll be okay. We'll get you out on the bus. Get you to your brothers."

She looked up at me and sniffled. "Are you serious? You'd still do that?"

"Of course. I said I would. Do you... do you think I shouldn't?"

She buried her face. "I don't deserve it." "You don't deserve to live on the street. You don't deserve to be trapped in this town. No one does. So let's get on the bus. We can go to the bus station right now. Or would you rather fly? I could get you a plane ticket just from my frequent-flier points alone."

She looked up at me. "Are you kidding? That's too much. Bus is fine. Better... it'll get me right to their door. Besides, I've never been on a plane. I wouldn't know what to do."

"If that's what you really want, Kayla. Let's go." I paused. "Actually, I'm hungry. Are you hungry? You know..."

Kayla sniffled then said, "Oh, don't say it. You're gonna say it, aren't you?"

I grinned. "Breakfast is on me, if you want it."

~~~~

We ate in the little hotel restaurant. I told her that her things would be safe in the room, but she wore her coat and brought her backpack, anyway.

Kayla ate in silence, looking glum.

"Food okay?" I prompted.

She nodded. "I still feel shitty. And you're still being nice to me. Makes me feel even worse." She toyed with a sausage on her plate.

"But you brought everything back," I said. "Except, I think there's one other thing you stole."

"No. You have everything. I made sure."

"That knife you had... it's a steak knife from the restaurant last night, isn't it?"

"Uh, yeah. I've heard bad things about when a guy takes you back to his hotel. I took it just in case."

"I'm flattered that I look so dangerous."

She rolled her eyes.

"I'm amazed, though." I looked around at the other diners and said in a hushed tone, "You really would have had sex with me?"

She looked at me carefully. "Well, I figured maybe I could just blow you and that would be enough. But if you wanted more, I wouldn't have minded that much."

"Really?"

"Is that so amazing? You're a nice guy. And I haven't been with anyone since I before left home. It wouldn't have been like I got nothing out of it."

I tried to process that. "It's still wrong, Kayla."

"Yeah. But you do what you have to, you know? I've never seen anyone so mad about getting a blow job, though. The look on your face..."

"Because I knew you didn't want to. And I was surprised. I've never had a..."

Kayla looked doubtful. "You've never had a blow job?"

"Well, no."

"You're kidding. Next you'll tell me you've never had sex."

"Of course I have. A couple times."

Kayla looked at me in disbelief. "No way. You're like, 24 and only had sex twice?"

I could tell I was blushing. "I'm 27. I know... I look younger. Because I was sick. And I've done it three times. Back in university."

"I don't get it," said Kayla. "You're not so bad looking. You're kind. You're rich."

I grimaced. "Come one... I'm skinny and weird looking. And like I said, I'm not good with... women. I'm fine in a professional setting. You know... with clients. But in person? I'm a wreck. I get nervous. And I keep getting caught stealing glances at their boobs or their ass. I know... it's a terrible habit. I feel like a pig every time. I keep trying not to."

"But you found someone once, right|?"

"Uh, sort of. I had a friend in university who also had never... you know. She was just as ugly and shy as me. So we tried it... just to get it out of the way and see what all the fuss was about. I guess we didn't know what we were doing though. It was awkward. Not fun at all."

"So no one since then?"

"It's not like I have much choice, Kayla. I'm not attractive, I just get so awkward with women. And I can tell when someone is being nice just because I make a little money."

She smiled. "You were home schooled, right?"

"Hah. No, but it was something similar. I was in hospitals a lot growing up. Or in bed at home. My parents were scared to let me play with other kids. Afraid I'd catch something, or exert myself too much."

"But you're okay now?"

"I'm fine. I was just left a little... underdeveloped. Physically. Socially. I'm the stereotypical pencil-necked computer geek."

"Oh no," said Kayla. "I know some computer nerds. There were lots in my high school. And lots at the college. Gamer types, mostly. Lots of them were assholes. You're not an asshole, Martin. You're nice."

"Gee, thanks," I chuckled. "I think they call that 'damning with faint praise.'"

"You know what I mean. You're a good guy. But no girlfriend? How do you stand it?"

"Thankfully, there's the Internet."

"Yuck. Too much information, Martin. You shouldn't have stopped me last night. We could have had some fun."

"No!" I said. "It wouldn't have been real. You weren't doing it because you wanted to. I can get a call-girl any time I want, you know... I even tried it once, but I couldn't go through with it. It's not real, and a person having to sell their body is awful. No one should have to do that. You should never have to do that."

"And I haven't. I was willing to make an exception one time. With you."

She smiled at me. I blushed.

When we finished eating, Kayla asked, "So what now?"

"Well, let's get a cab and get you to the bus station."

Kayla surprised me when she reached across and touched my hand.

"You're either the nicest guy I ever met," she said, "or the biggest sucker."

~~~~

The hotel entrance was full of unhappy travelers. The concierge explained that most roads had not been plowed and cabs were scarce.

The bus terminal phone line just had a recording saying all buses were canceled or delayed until midnight.

"We're stuck," I said to Kayla.

She looked outside. The snow had slowed but everything was still buried.

"Did you pack any casual clothes?" she asked.

"Well, I have a windbreaker, a fleece jacket, sweatpants..."

We went back to the room where she dumped her backpack and I changed. Then she led me down the fire escape to the back of the hotel where the dumpsters were parked.

It seemed warmer than the night before. The wind was still, and it was so quiet. The new fallen snow dampened all sound. The sun was barely visible through the overcast sky.

Kayla started looking inside the dumpsters.

"Uh, shopping for Christmas presents, Kayla?"

She pulled out a two large pieces of clean cardboard.

"C'mon" she said and pulled me up the big hill behind the hotel.

Some kids were already sliding on snow boards and sleds. Kayla bent the cardboard into two a makeshift sleds. She hopped on one and whizzed down the hill. I sat on the other and followed.

The cardboard worked very well, sometimes going faster than the kids on their fancy sleds and snow boards.

Kayla and I laughed and played, sometimes sliding on our own cardboard or sharing one with Kayla sitting behind me, legs wrapped around and holding me from behind.

"It's so you get all the snow in your face," she laughed.

Once I was standing up at the bottom of the hill when I heard "Look out!"

I barely turned before Kayla plowed into me, sending me flying.

"Sorry," she laughed, "I think my cardboard's steering is broken."

I got her back with a snowball to the face.

We forgot everything and became two normal people having fun on a snow day. It felt like the times when I was young and snuck away with a friend from school to go sliding. My parents were livid when found us, and dragged me back to the house, terrified that I'd stressed my heart.

After two hours Kayla and I were tired, wet, and our cardboard was mushy and falling apart. We threw it back into a dumpster and started back up to my room, laughing like school kids.

"How did you know cardboard was good for sliding on, Kayla?"

"Oh, it's in the handbook they give to all certified street people. Right before the section on stealing steak knives for self-defense."

She smirked. I shoulder-checked her into the wall.

"Actually," she said, "one year my brothers both got fancy sleds for Christmas... you know the ones you sit on with a steering wheel? I got Barbie dolls. When they went off sliding, I followed with one of the boxes. They were pissed when my cardboard box went faster than their sleds."

~~~~

When we closed the door to the room, I said, "You're soaked. And you must be freezing. You go have a shower first."

Kayla smiled and shook her head.

"No? Okay, then I'll go first. I'll be quick."

She kept smiling as she shook her head again. Without a word, Kayla pulled me into the bathroom and started the shower. She started taking off her clothes.

"Kayla?" I asked wide-eyed as I watched her strip.

When she was naked, she lifted my shirt over my head and helped me remove the rest of my clothes. she saw the scar that dented the length of my sternum. She traced it gently with her hand, then looked at me sympathetically and pecked my cheek.

Kayla stepped into the shower and, grinning, pulled me in with her.

I just stood there, naked and uncertain as she adjusted the water. Was she trying to pay me back again? Doing what I think I demanded? With her smile and playfulness it didn't seem so.

Kayla hugged me and walked us sideways until we were both under the spray of the shower. She held me loosely as the warm water cascaded down our bodies. She looked at me with a little smile.

She handed me the soap. "Do my back?" she asked, turning around. She bent forward, pushed both hands against the wall and stuck out her ass.

I soaped her shoulders and upper arms, lost in the feel of her skin. When I massaged a shoulder, Kayla moaned.

"Mmmm," she said. "That's so nice."

I continued to soap and massage her back, then worked down to her lovely bum. It was firm, shapely and exquisite. As I massaged the cheeks of her ass,, I studied how her waist flared out to her womanly hips. I wanted to remember the curves and shape of her forever.

Kayla must have figured I would never stop fondling her slick, soapy bum because after a few moments she stood and took my hands, guiding them around her into an embrace. She then moved them up to her marvelous breasts.

Her boobs were slightly too large fit in my hands completely. I instinctively began to massaged and stroked them.

"Oh... now that's really nice," she said and reached behind to stroke the back of my neck.

I asked, "Why are you doing this, Kayla?"

"Doing what?" she asked with a tone of complete innocence. "We're just getting warm. We're just getting clean. Will you help me get clean?"

I ran my soapy hands all over her as she stood enjoying it with a slightly dazed expression and a little smile.

Kayla then took her turn cleaning me, soaping and massaging every inch of my body.

"I'm all warmed up now. Are you all warmed up?"

I had no voice. I nodded.

We rinsed off a final time and stepped out, turning off the water. The bathroom mirrors were completely fogged.

Kayla let me dry every inch of her at least twice. She lifted her arms to give me full access to her breasts, then turned so I could dry her back and spectacular ass, then lifted one foot onto the edge of the tub while I got on my knees to dry her legs and between her legs.

"I know I'm a little shaggy," she said when she saw me examining her. "Would you like to give me a trim?" She gave me an impish smile. "Or would you like to shave me bare?"