Fire Down Below (2 page)

***

I met him right after work and
didn’t even bother going home to change out of my sweaty work clothes or apply
fresh make-up. A date would have me preening in front of a mirror, worrying
about the slightest imperfection. I wore a lot of black clothes back then,
which went well with my dark hair and pale completion. I wasn’t exactly Goth
anymore, but you could say I still had aspirations in that direction. I’d had
my nose pierced when I was nineteen and usually wore a ring in my left nostril.
I adored pointy-toed shoes and since my budget was always screaming for mercy,
I wore a lot of vintage clothes that I’d pick up at second hand stores. Witchy shoes,
black clothes, and red lipstick. This was my dress style at the tender age of
twenty-one.

Ben sat next to me during most of the
movie. I say most, and not the entire movie, because he kept getting up. He got
up at least four times. I thought his bladder was the size of a peanut, but
turns out he got restless sitting in a chair for too long. Afterwards, as we headed
back to his jeep, he asked me if I wanted to come over and check out his new
apartment.

“What do you think?” Ben asked,
after he’d shown me around inside. He lived in an older brick building on Olive
Street that was surprisingly quaint. He didn’t have much furniture, plus his
bedroom was kind of messy with a bunch of mountain climbing gear piled in the
corner, but it was far better than I expected. The whole apartment smelled like
fresh paint with that slight musty smell so many old buildings have.

“It’s great.” I looked around in
approval. “You’re lucky to live alone.” I couldn’t afford to live by myself, so
I shared a three-bedroom house on Queen Anne Hill.

“Do you want a Coke? Or there’s
root beer.”

“Don’t you have any regular beer?”

“Nah, I don’t drink.”

“What are you in AA or something?”

Ben laughed. “No, I’m not in AA. I
just don’t like the stuff. I prefer to keep my brain cell quota as high as
possible.”

“And you work in a bar? That’s
kind of ironic, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I know. But I only work
there because it pays so well.”

“I see.” I could only imagine what
he’d think of the amount of drinking I do every Saturday when I go out dancing.
I’m sure my brain cell quota the next day is a negative number. “I’ll take an iced
Coke if you have it.”

While he went into the kitchen, I
wandered over by the book-shelf in his living room, scanning titles. They were
mostly non-fiction with a few detective novels thrown in. I saw some framed
photos leaning against a row of books and picked one up to examine it more closely.
It was a picture of Ben rock climbing. “Where’s this taken?” I asked when he
came back and handed me a glass of soda.

“El Capitan in Yosemite, I was
down there last summer climbing with some friends.”

“It looks really…hard.” I wasn’t
sure what sort of comment to make. I never understood sports like this. It’s a
big rock. What’s the point of climbing it?

“It was totally excellent. We
climbed a route on the southeast face. Hopefully I’ll be headed down there again
this summer. Hey, you should come with me and check it out for yourself.”

“You want
me
to climb a steep
rock?” I bit my lip and gave him an exaggerated look of terror.

He chuckled. “Or not.”

“I’m sure it’s fun, but it’s not
my thing, you know?”

He took a swig of his root beer
and considered me. “Yes Kate, I’d say you’ve always been more of a downtown
girl.”

“Exactly.”

I put the photo back and picked up
another one that appeared to have been taken the same day except in this photo Ben
is standing with a group of friends and has his shirt off. My eyes lingered
over his naked torso. He’s muscular, but not in an overblown Mr. Universe sort
of way. He looked healthy and strong. I found myself wondering how it would feel
to run my hands over his chest, imagining it would feel pretty good, and as I tried
to push this thought away it suddenly occurred to me that I’d been staring at this
photo way too long. “You’re friends look nice,” I said quickly, putting the
picture back on the shelf. When I glanced over at Ben his eyes were resting on
me.

“So what are you writing again?” I
asked. “A novel?”

He nodded. “Yeah, it’s a mystery
thriller sort of thing. Though I’ve been having writers block with it lately. I
can’t seem to pull it together.”

I picked up an issue of
Outside
magazine that was lying on top of some books. “You should write something for
them. I’ll bet your writer’s block would vanish in an instant.”

He smiled knowingly. “I have
written something for them, though I haven’t submitted it yet. Do you want to
read it?”

Ben didn’t wait for an answer, but
went over to his computer and sat down. I came over and stood behind him,
watching as he opened Word and brought his article up on the screen.

“My printer’s not set up yet,” he explained.
I assumed he was going to get up and let me sit in the chair so I could read
from the monitor, but instead he surprised me by reaching out and pulling me
onto his lap. “There you are. Read it and tell me your thoughts.”

My thoughts? Did he really just pull
me onto his lap? I stared at the computer monitor, trying to make sense of this
new development. His article, which had something to do with hiking trails in
Oregon, might as well have been written in Martian for all the attention I was
able to give it. All I could think about was the weight of his hands on my hips
and that I liked how they felt.

After a few minutes of pretending
to read, I said, “Hmm, looks great!”

When I tried to get up, Ben
stopped me.   

I turned, so we were facing each
other, and just as I was forming the question he leaned over and brushed his lips
against mine. A thrill ran through me. He kissed me again and this time the
kiss grew deeper, more insistent, and I found myself responding. When he pulled
away, I was surprised by how much I enjoyed it.

“I’ve wanted to do that for quite a
while,” he said, as his eyes held mine. “I didn’t know if you were interested
though.”

“I didn’t know
you
were
interested,” I said and we both laughed.

We kissed some more and I slipped
my arms around his neck. He felt wonderful and smelled so good. A clean guy smell.
His hands slipped under my shirt and then slid down the length of my back. Warm
fingers glided over my skin. Our kisses grew hotter and it became clear this
was headed somewhere.

“Come on,” he said. We got off the
chair and he took my hand, leading me back towards his bedroom.

I’ve never slept with a guy on the
first date, but as I followed Ben into his bedroom it didn’t feel like a first
date. I hadn’t even known it was a date at all!

We stood next to the bed and he kissed
me for a while before stepping back to help pull my shirt off. Next he moved
behind me and unfastened my bra. He slid it off and then cupped my breasts with
warm hands. I leaned into him and sighed. His hard body felt good behind me and
I liked what his hands were doing too. When he rolled his thumbs over my
nipples, it sent a shower of sparks through me that led straight between my legs
and I whimpered softly.

Ben had me stand in front of him then
while he sat on the bed and unzipped my jeans. I’m glad I was wearing nice panties.
They were only cotton bikinis with little red flowers, but they were still nice
enough.

“You’re so sexy,” he murmured,
kissing my stomach, sending butterfly shivers through me.

“Am I?”

“I couldn’t wait to touch you.
It’s all I’ve been thinking about for weeks.”

He slid my jeans down, then my
panties, and stood up so he was standing right in front of me. He pulled me
against him and we kissed while I took in the feel of him, the decadence of his
hands on me, roaming everywhere.

I slid my fingers under his shirt,
pushing it upward. His skin was smooth with miles of lean muscle. Lust pulsed
through me like a river.

“Take this off,” I whispered.

Ben stepped back, yanked his shirt
overhead and stripped his jeans away. My hands reached out for him in a way I
couldn’t control. He pulled me in close so we were skin to skin, the hard demand
of his body obvious as he pressed himself against me. As we stood facing each
other, I couldn’t help notice that, like in the photo, he had a great body. Broad
shoulders that tapered down. He was nicely muscular all over. His cock poked my
leg, so I reached down and wrapped my hand around it.

“Nice to meet you,” I said softly.

Ben made a strangled sound that
was somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “Let’s go on the bed.”

He pulled me down onto the tangle
of sheets and lay over me, kissing and nipping at my neck, lowering his head to
my breasts, while I tried to catch my breath.

 I felt his hand slide between my
legs.

“You’re so wet,” he whispered,
moving his fingers around in a circular motion, before sliding a couple of them
inside of me, eliciting a gasp. “Does that feel good?”

“It does….” I managed to say. It
felt
so
good that I couldn’t remember if I’d ever been this turned on
with someone before. I reached down and put my hand around his cock, wanting
him to join me in all these good sensations. I moved my fingers up and down the
shaft and over the glans that were slippery with pre-come. We did this for a
long while, kissing deeply, lost in each other.

At some point he shifted position,
his mouth sliding down to my nipples where he licked and suckled each in turn until
I was hot and desperate, until I rocked my hips, pulling him to me. Ben had
other ideas though as he worked his way down towards my stomach so his face was
finally between my legs. His arms gripped my thighs and I felt his mouth on me,
sliding his tongue around, working the right spot. It was wonderful and he kept
at it until I couldn’t take it anymore, until waves of pleasure overtook me and
I came hard, gasping his name, clutching his head with both hands.

When I finally managed to let go
of him, he sat up. His mouth open, breathing hard. Leaning over me, Ben opened
the drawer on his nightstand and started rummaging through it.

“Shit! Tell me I have a condom.”

A few seconds later he pulled out
a small blue package and held it up for me to see, both of us grinning with
relief. He tore it open and slipped the rubber on and I reached for him
impatiently. Still excited from my climax, I wanted him inside me.

We kissed and his mouth tasted like
me. I felt his cock between my legs and I thought he might take it slow, but it
was clear he was past the point of control. He pushed into with one hard
thrust.

“God, you feel good Kate,” he said
hotly. “Everything about you feels so good.”

He felt amazing too, moving inside
me, the weight of his body on me, and I wished it would go on forever. I
wrapped myself around him and made gasping, sobbing kinds of noises, barely
recognizing myself, barely even aware that anything else in the world existed. I
felt a rush come over me and realized with surprise that I was coming again in
another wave of ecstasy. Somewhere in there Ben grabbed my legs and pushed my
knees up high. His pace quickened and I could sense he was close, so I dug my nails
into him, watching as he eventually groaned and gave in.   

Afterwards we lay there, both of
us too exhausted to speak. I’d only had sex with a few guys, so I was no
expert, but this was the best sex I’d ever had. 

“That was great,” he breathed. “I
knew it would be good between us.” He rolled onto his side. “Come here, lay
closer.”

I scooted into him and he wrapped
his arms around me. We lay quiet for a short while. “What are you thinking
about?” he asked.

I smiled and then turned to look
over my shoulder at him. “I’m thinking that if I’d known you were this good in
bed I would have had sex with you years ago!”

Ben chuckled. “Well,” he pulled me
in tight, “now you know.”

The Present Day….

It’s Monday
and I’m
sitting
at my desk at work. While theoretically I’m writing a Java script, in reality
I’ve been staring at Ben’s business card all morning, which I have perched
against my computer screen.

Should I or shouldn’t I? That is
the question.

Declan, my Irish boss comes in and
stands peering over my shoulder. “Hmmm, I believe that’s the same line of code
you were working on last time I was here. And who the feck is Ben Mathews?”

“An old boyfriend I ran into last
Friday.”

Declan sits down on one of the
chairs in my office, making himself comfortable. “And this explains why you’re
daydreaming instead of working.”

“Pretty much.”

“Well, what’s the trouble?” And if
it seems weird that I’m discussing my love life with my boss, it’s because he’s
also my friend. He’s only been my boss for about six months. Before that he was
a lowly web developer like me, but then he was promoted to program manager,
head of the department, and king of the universe, though he’s told me he
prefers it if I simply address him as “Master.”

I explain to him about running
into Ben and that I can’t decide whether I should call him or not. “For all I
know he might be happily married with a house full of kids. Then all this
indecision doesn’t matter.”

“But you don’t think so.”

“No,” I say quietly.

“Do you still have feelings for him
then? Even after all these years?”

I was so in-love with Ben at one
time, but the way we broke up was horrible. That alone makes me hesitant to see
him again. On the other hand I hate that I looked awful when I ran into him at
the store. It sounds silly and vain, but I can’t help it. Part of me wants to prove
that I’m still hot, despite all the evidence he saw to the contrary.

“Let me give you the male perspective.”
Declan leans forward. “He gave you his number. That means he wants you to
call.”

“You think so? Maybe he was being
polite.”

“Trust me. Men don’t give women
their telephone numbers unless they want to hear from them.”

I chew on this. Declan is studying
me in that way he does sometimes, when he thinks I don’t notice. I’ve never
been absolutely sure about this, so it’s only a suspicion, but occasionally I sense
that he may have a small crush on me. It’s a feeling I get when we’re together
sometimes. I once caught him staring at me during a meeting at work. When I glanced
over in his direction, he quickly looked away, but not before I saw what I can
only describe as an expression of longing on his face.

He’s never said anything to me,
has never asked me out, has never even hinted that he wants more than friendship,
which is just as well because he’s not my type at all, though I’ll admit he has
sex appeal. A lot of women find him attractive. He usually has a girlfriend,
though his relationships never last long. I’ve met a few of them and I’ve
noticed that Declan has a thing for brown-eyed brunettes which, admittedly, has
fueled my notion that he might have a crush on me. I imagine his honey-tongued
brogue has also been a big help in his love life, since he does sound sexy.

“Who is
that
?” I remember
Suzy exclaiming once when she heard a message Declan left on my answering
machine during one of our pajama parties a while back.

“Oh, it’s just this guy I work
with.”

“Really? He sounds hot.”

“Hmm.” I shrugged.

Lauren, who’d been in the kitchen,
came out carrying a platter of margaritas and wanted to know who sounded hot.

“This guy Kate works with.” Suzy
fiddled around with my answering machine. “How do you get this thing to repeat?”
She pushed the playback button and we heard Declan’s message again.

“Is that an Irish accent?” Lauren
asked, putting the drinks down.

“I
think
so.” Suzy tilted
her head to listen more closely. She reached down and hit the playback button once
more and I had to admit it was sort of funny—the three of us standing around
listening to Declan as he droned on about some mundane matter at work. I once
read about a study where scientists played a tape of a woman speaking in French
to a group of American men and how they assumed what she was saying was highly erotic
when it turned out all she was doing was reciting a list of vegetables. “I’m
not entirely sure if that’s Irish,” Suzy mused. “Let’s hear it again.”

“ENOUGH,” I finally said. “Yes, he’s
Irish, so please stop playing that damn message.”

“So, what’s his story?” Suzy
wanted to know. “I hope he’s as hot as he sounds.”

“Not exactly.”

“Oh? What’s wrong with him?”
Lauren asked. “Is he a jerk?”

I picked up a glass and tasted one
of the drinks. It was icy, sour sweet, and extremely strong. I’ve never been a
margarita fan, but both Suzy and Lauren love them.

“No, he’s not a jerk. He’s really
great.” I thought of all the things I liked about Declan. His quick wit and how
we made each other laugh all the time. We both liked to watch obscure movies and
hang out in the city together. Plus Declan has a great smile. For some reason I’ve
always had this thing about men with pointy eye teeth and Declan has the perfect
pair. His teeth are very white and the whole effect is that it gives him a
wolfish look that I’ve always liked. It was the first thing I noticed about him
when we met—his fantastic smile.

I sighed. “Unfortunately, Declan
is short and bald.”

“So he looks like George Costanza?”
Lauren asked incredulous. She put her drink down. “What a shame.”

“No, he’s not fat or anything and
he’s not
that
short. He’s taller than I am, but I wouldn’t describe him
as tall and he’s bald, or mostly bald. He keeps his hair super short.”

 Suzy grinned. “I don’t know...he
doesn’t sound so bad. I think I’d do him even if he did look like George Costanza.
What a voice!”

“You’ll have to take a number. Women
love him. He’s like the Irish Don Juan or something. It’s almost ridiculous the
way some of them carry on. I do kind of understand why they’re into him. He’s smart
and has sex appeal. But he isn’t my type.”

Suzy and Lauren both give me an
amused look as they sip their drinks. I know I’m overstating my case and they
probably think I’m harboring some secret feelings, but I’m not. I work with
Declan every day so I’ve heard plenty about his love life.