Chapter 3

Reid and Monica trudged uphill. "This is so dark," she said, "a little spooky..."

"It's pretty in the fall with the leaves. Almost there..."

They climbed a rise and before them was the dormitory. Reid scanned his ID again to open the door and led her to his room. He helped her out of her coat and set her scarf on a chair.

"Let me see if I can get some more heat," he said and adjusted the heating register under his window.

"Reid -- are you ready, willing and able to enter into a social contract?"

"Ready and willing, yes. Able? Time will tell."

"Don't underestimate yourself."

"Would you like something to drink?" he asked.

"I can't drink alcohol -- with the anti-depressants."

"That's okay -- I don't have any to offer. Coffee? Tea?"

She shook her head. "Not this time of night. They make me wired."

"Hot chocolate?"

Her eyes lit up. "Hot chocolate ... please."

He filled a carafe with water from the bathroom and placed it into a coffee maker. From a box on a shelf he retrieved a pair of packets, opened them and dumped them into mugs.

"While that's heating up," he said, "there's something I need to do..." He opened his closet and took a necktie from a hook. Then, he slipped it around his neck and began tying it.

"A tie?" she asked. "Do you think this requires a tie?"

"Not quite..." He loosened the knot, slipped it over his head and then cinched it around the knob of the bathroom door. "Brad always puts a tie on his door when he has Lauren with him."

"With us, it's a hair scrunchie," she replied. "Except in my dorm, of course."

"The water's ready." He poured the hot water into the mugs and handed one to her.

Monica warmed her hands on the mug. "This is wonderful."

"Are you feeling warmer yet?"

"Yeah -- a bit." She sipped from her mug.

He chortled. "I think it's funny ... If someone asks us how we met we can say were sleeping together ... We kinda got things backward." He regarded her. "Was that the wrong thing for me to say?"

She smiled. "No ... you are right. It was an odd way to meet." She approached him and sat on his lap. "Reid -- I'm really happy you called me."

"I can't believe I was such an idiot." He brought his lips to hers and they kissed. "I can't believe you're giving me a second chance."

"Reid -- it's been a while for me. Most guys get scared off when they see the scars on my wrists. They think, psychotic, suicidal music major -- I'm outta here. So -- if I'm a little nervous..."

"It's been a while for me, too."

"How long?" she asked.

"Since ... never. I'm a little nervous, too."

"Reid -- are you a virgin?"

"Not so loud," he replied.

"There's no shame in it. You and Megan never..."

"We never got to that point. I mean ... we did stuff but not ... that. You know what happened next. I just withdrew into my guilt and..."

"And never found the right girl."

"I never looked for the right one. It took you to find me."

"I think it's sweet," she said. She pulled off her vest sweater.

Reid regarded her. The turtleneck she wore was lightweight and did little to conceal the twin charms of her compact breasts. He caressed the sides of them with the backs of his fingers. "Do you never wear a bra? I'm sorry -- I'm thinking out loud."

"Not often," she replied. "It's hard for me to find one that fits, and I don't want to shop in the little girls' department." He continued stroking her through the fabric of her turtleneck. "So -- do you prefer big-busted women?"

"I prefer you, Monica. You're my type. You're exactly my type -- smart, pretty, tall, willowy..."

"Willowy, psychotic, suicidal music major?"

"Well -- nobody's perfect." He kissed her lips. "What is it about music majors to have the bad rep?" he asked.

"It's because we work so hard ... practice, practice, practice. I think we put in more hours on our work than anyone. The artistic temperament isn't to be trifled with, either."

"Does the antidepressant interfere with your creativity?" he asked.

"No, thank God. Some of the ADD drugs do. I have classmates who'll skip their meds when they need to be creative and then go on Adderall binges. I'm on a pretty even keel, that way ... but I'm not in the top percentile, either. I'm just a solid B student."

"Same here -- but in order to keep my scholarship I need to be a solid B+. Tech's an awfully expensive school and the scholarship is the only way I can stay here. That plus is so hard for me to reach."

"Now you know what you're up against," she said. "Are you still interested?"

"Very..." He kissed her lips.

Monica began unbuttoning his shirt. She slipped her hand inside. "You wear an undershirt?"

"Yeah -- that's old fashioned I guess. I do in the winter -- wear layers, you know ... to keep warm..." He looked down on her hand reaching under the placket of his shirt and felt her caressing his breast. Reid threw his shirt off his shoulders and then lifted his tee shirt over his head.

"Well," she replied, "as long as we're doing that sort of thing..." She pulled her turtleneck over her head.

Reid regarded her perfectly formed, AA-cup breasts. "Monica ... they're beautiful ... you're beautiful..."

She guided his hand to her left breast. "Can you feel my heart?"

"Feel mine." Monica pressed her hand against his chest. "Monica -- it's okay with me if you want to slow down -- we don't have to go all the way tonight."

"Do you want to slow down?" she asked.

"No. Do you?" She shook her head.

He caressed the undersides of her breasts with the backs of his fingers, stroking the sides of her nipples with his knuckles. Then he ran his hands along her sides, caressing her breasts with his thumbs and massaging her pale areolas.

She drew in a deep breath. "That feels good, Reid. You have a nice touch."

He continued caressing her. "You have such pale skin ... freckles on your arms and shoulders ... You probably hate freckles, don't you?"

"I don't hate them -- I just wish I didn't have them." She stroked his chest, emulating the way he was caressing her. "You like this, too -- don't you?"

"Very much ... Seeing your gorgeous hands on me..."

Reid eased her onto her back on his bed. He untied the laces to her snow boots and eased them off her feet. Then, he unfastened the waistband of her jeans. She lifted her hips and he pulled them off.

"You have pretty legs, too ... I saw your legs the other night and thought they were fantastic."

"You showed remarkable restraint that night," she remarked.

"I suppose I did. Do you want to keep your knee socks on or take them off?"

"Which do you prefer?"

"I'm not fussy. Your legs look great either way."

"Take them off," she said. Reid peeled them from her calves and set them with her jeans and top.

"You have pretty feet, Monica"

"Are you the kind of guy who gets off on feet?"

"No ... Yours are nicely formed."

He removed his clothes to his briefs, lay beside her and resumed caressing her breasts and fondling her nipples. "Are you comfortable? Warm enough?" he asked.

"I'm comfortable."

"I think your heart has slowed down."

"It has. You've put me at ease, Reid."

He gazed into her eyes. "You know I think you're right -- your eyes are gray ... but with a tinge of green. I love you, Monica."

"I know you do. I love you, too."

"I know you do. Why is it so hard to say those words when it's something we both know already?" He kissed her. She caressed the back of his neck and guided his lips to hers for another kiss. "I can't believe we've fallen in love so fast."

"We feel right together," she replied. "I feel like I've known you all my life."

He pressed his lips to hers, held the back of her neck and caressed her hair.

"I had to come up for air," he gasped. "I think we were passing the same air back and forth."

"You're a good kisser, Reid ... and what you're doing feels really good. I can tell you're not completely inexperienced."

"Not completely."

He ran his hand along her abdomen, savoring the shape of her ribcage and her flat belly. He cupped his hand over her mons, explored her labia and worked his finger between them. Through the satin of her briefs he began stroking. "This," he said, "is about as far as Megan and I got. I'm sorry, Monica -- I shouldn't be talking about her."

"It's all right, Reid -- I understand and I don't mind..." She closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. "This is feeling really good ... I like it through the fabric ... it makes it more subtle ... Is there any way you could kiss me without stopping what you're doing?"

"I think so..." He shifted his position so he could slip his free arm around her back. Reid pressed his lips to hers. They kissed, kissed again and sucked on each other's tongues.

"Oh, I like how you're holding me. It feels like you really want me."

"I really do want you."

Monica's breathing grew deep and heavy, and her body fell limp against his. Reid kissed her breast. Then he placed his lips over her nipple, drew it into his mouth and massaged it with his tongue. He could feel her heart racing through her flesh.

"Oh, Reid," she panted. "Just a little more ... don't change it..." He felt her ribs and belly heave with her panting. " ... just a little more ... Oh ... Oh ... Ohhhh..." Reid watched her thighs tremble. "You can stop..."

She caressed his face and peppered him with kisses. "Did you have an..."

"An orgasm? I had a wonderful one."

"You were so quiet," he remarked.

"Are you complaining?"

"No ... not at all. It's just..."

"It's the golden rule," she replied. "Do you remember how disgusted we were with Lauren's moaning?"

"Yeah..."

"I think it's crass to inflict it in place with such paper-thin walls. Don't you?"

"I suppose..."

"Holding back makes it all the more intense."

"So I guess that means we're ready for the main event," he said.

"I am if you are."

Reid cradled his forehead in his hand. "Oh, no ... I just remembered."

"What?"

He sighed. "I don't have any condoms. I never imagined we'd..."

"You never imagined we'd do this?"

"Not on a first date. I don't even expect a kiss on a first date."

"This may be our first date," she replied. "But I feel like we've known each other for ever."