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15 April 2011 @ 11:07 pm
Fic Post: Hey Schoolgirl  
I blame gorengal completely for this. I totally owe her a hug.

Title: Hey Schoolgirl
Author: Montiese
Category: AU/Romance
Pairing: Cutter/Rubirosa
Rating: MATURE
Summary: “Oh, so when you're not rocking the Catholic schoolgirl thing you got a part-time gig as Florence Nightingale?”
Author’s Note: I’ve had this AU in some form in my head almost from the moment I started shipping Mike and Connie. Then the prompt for lawandorder100 was ‘AU’ and a monster was born. I wrote a 100 word drabble and then proceeded to write 20 more pages. Oh, and I made up the word chooch, at least I think I did. Tell me if you’ve heard it before. The title is Simon and Garfunkel’s first ever song.


“Who's the chooch?”

Connie rolled her eyes as three guys approached the table where she sat with Mike and her friends. The music was pulsing; she’d had a few beers and was feeling good. She and Mike had been dancing quite provocatively but they were taking a break. Connie wasn’t in the mood for trouble. Trouble had just come calling.

“C'mon Emilio, we’re just trying to have a good time.” She said.

“We don’t want his kind here.” He pointed at Mike.

“Hey look…”

“Don’t.” Connie put her hand on his Mike’s chest. “He's not worth it.”

“It’s like that now, Connie.” Emilio feigned hurt. “Damn, you get a little chooch cock, and I'm sure it’s very little, and you change up. Don’t forget where you come from, little girl.”

“Who the hell are you talking to?”

Mike watched as Connie stood, her chocolate brown eyes flashing brimstone. She looked gorgeous in a red tank mini-dress that he was sure she borrowed from a friend. The way she described her mother, Mrs. Rubirosa would drop dead if she saw her little girl dressed like that. It wasn’t as provocative as what her girlfriends were wearing but her mother was conservative.

“Take your fairy boy to those trendy West Side clubs. We don’t need him down here slumming for brown pussy.”

“You know what, you're pushing it.” Mike stood up too. He didn’t know who this guy was but was already tired of him.

“I haven’t begun to push it, chooch. Believe me.”

“Oh just fuck off, Emilio.” Connie held up her hand. “We’re here to have fun and don’t want to hear it. Go play in traffic.”

“You know what,” he grabbed Connie’s wrist tight. “You got a sassy ass mouth. I’ll put you on your knees and you can put it to good use. You probably wouldn’t know what to do with a real man’s cock but you'll know by the time I'm done.”

“You're so…”

Connie didn’t get the sentence out of her mouth before Mike swung on the guy. He led with his right and caught Emilio off guard.

“Bad move, chooch,” he clicked his jaw. “That was a very bad move.”

All three of the guys jumped on Mike and someone yelled fight. It only took ninety seconds for fight to become a full-blown melee.

“Mike!” Connie exclaimed.

“Run Connie! Get your friends and get out of here! Go!”

She knew she would have to run. The cops had probably already been called and she was just seventeen. It was beyond illegal for her or her girlfriends to even be there. If her parents found out they would beat her to death, revive her, and kill her again. Dammit, they were just trying to have a good night.

“Diner!” she hollered before she and her girlfriends beat a hasty retreat to the side exit that would take them out to the alley. It had started to drizzle.

“You think he’s gonna be OK?” Amy Gordon asked, peering out of the alley to make sure the cops weren't there yet. In this neighborhood, it might take a while.

“I hope so.” Connie said. “This was the last thing I wanted to happen tonight.”

“Emilio is such a douchebag.” Tamika Douglas said. “He's been after you for over a year, Connie.”

“I wouldn’t date him if he was the last guy on earth. I'm damn sure not gonna fuck him.” she looked behind her when she heard the approaching sirens. “I really wanna go back. They might kill him you guys.”

“No, my moms will kill me if I get swept up in a club raid.” Anita Dominguez said. “We’ll lay low at the diner for a little while. Hopefully he’ll meet us there.”

He would if Emilio and his friends didn’t beat him to death. They were thugs and never minded kicking a little ass. Connie was also concerned because she knew they weren't above using knives to get their point across. Weapons weren't allowed in the club but that never stopped those guys. If Mike was badly injured it was all her fault. They just wanted to go out and have some fun together. It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

***


Connie sat in the diner watching the rainfall down the large window. She picked at her plate of hash browns and barely sipped her coffee. Anita passed her a black cherry flavored clove. Connie slipped it between her lips, inhaling deeply as she lit it. The girls were going on and on about stupid guys ruining their good time and a whole bunch of other things she wasn’t quite listening to. She watched a cop car stop in front of the building and Mike climbed out of the back. He looked awful but he was alive. Connie climbed over Anita in the booth, rushing toward him as he came in the door.

“Oh my God, I'm so glad that you're alright.” She breathed against him as she held on tight.

“I'm not quite alright.” Mike grimaced. “But it might be a good story for the grandkids years from now; Mike Cutter vs. The East Side boys.”

“This is all my fault.” Connie frowned as she took his bruised face in her hands. “I just wanted to have some fun but I should've known someone wouldn’t like seeing us together. Oh, look at your face. I'm so sorry.”

“This is not your fault.” Mike replied firmly. “It’s no more your fault than its mine for being a white guy. This is Emilio’s fault and he can think about it in a holding cell for the night.”

Connie sighed, hugging Mike again. Emilio was trouble…she didn’t want him getting hurt because of her.

“You need to go to the ER, Mike.” She said. “You could have internal injuries or something.”

“I’ll be fine. I don’t have ER money; I think I'm just gonna go home and sleep it off.”

“Well let me at least go with you and check you out. I can check for internal injuries and broken bones.”

“Oh, so when you're not rocking the Catholic schoolgirl thing you got a part-time gig as Florence Nightingale?” Mike managed a grin despite how he was feeling. Connie always made him smile.

“My dad’s a doctor, remember? Well he was in El Salvador. When he first emigrated here they wouldn’t recognize his medical license. He worked as a nurse for a decade before he could take the exams necessary to practice medicine in the US. Please, Mike, I'm worried about you.”

“OK.” He nodded, knowing he couldn’t deny her anything if he tried. “We’ll go back to my place together. I hope you don’t mind walking…it’s about a mile and a half from here.”

“I don’t mind. My feet might mind though.” Connie wore a pair of red pumps to match her dress.

Mike smiled, kissing her temple. Connie told him to wait and she went back over to her friends.

“I'm gonna walk home with Mike; just to make sure he's OK.” She said.

“Mmm hmm,” Tamika laughed. “Take good care of him, girl.”

“Shut up.” Connie gave her a friendly punch. “Gimme some cloves.”

Amy gave her the pack, which had three cloves and a lighter in it. Connie smiled and told them she’d call them tomorrow. She was supposed to be spending the weekend at Amy’s anyway so her parents wouldn’t be looking for her until late Sunday afternoon. Walking back to Mike, she handed him the box.

“Put these in your pocket. Don’t let them get wet.”

“OK.”

They walked out into the steady drizzle. Connie lit a clove and sighed.

“Tonight was supposed to be fun.” She said.

“Parts of it were. I really enjoyed the dancing part…even if I seemed to have left my rhythm at home.”

“You were fine.” She smiled at him.

“I had nothing on you. Watching you dance…”

“What?”

“It was nice.” Mike said, suppressing a grin. It actually made him horny as hell but he didn’t want to go there. Connie was 17 years old. 17 was the age of consent in New York State so Mike wouldn’t be committing a Class E felony for sexual contact with her. But it still made him nervous; she was in eleventh grade. He was 24 years old and the ice he skated on was thin enough. One leg was already in the freezing water.

“Thank you.” she took a deep inhale. "Next time we’ll do something you wanna do.”

“I don’t need to do anything special, Connie. I just like being around you.”

She nodded and they walked along in companionable silence. Connie shivered a bit when they stopped at a red light. Mike took off his denim jacket, which had seen better days, and put it over her shoulders.

“Thanks.”

“You're welcome. I'm sorry about the walk Connie; I could barely scrape together cab fare tonight.”

“Why do you always do that?” she asked, taking one last puff of the clove before crushing it under her red pump.

“What did I do?” Mike asked.

“You always talk about the stuff you don’t have.”

“Well I don’t have much.”

“I don’t care. I mean I care, in the sense that I want you to finish college and get into a good law school. But I hope you don’t think I want some rich prick to keep me up to my neck in the silly trappings of most girls my age. If I did, then I’d just date a piece of shit like Emilio. He’s rolling in dough with a fast car and all that. Whoopdie doo.”

“You have a bright future ahead of you.” he said. Mike was almost shy when he took her hand and laced his fingers through hers.

“I certainly do, and so do you. One day, years from now, we’ll probably run into each other in some overcrowded coffee shop. You'll be wearing a Brooks Brothers suit and I’ll be the height of European fashion.”

“The height of European fashion? I thought you were going to be a lawyer.”

“That’s what my parents want. I'm not sure what I want but I think there's more adventure waiting for me than legal briefs, you know?”

“Yeah.” he nodded.

When they got to his apartment building, Mike fished his keys out of his pocket. The front door was unlocked; the lock had been broken for weeks. Luckily the inside door was secure…this neighborhood could get dangerous at night. Mike pulled the door closed behind them and started the walk up to the second floor. His apartment was all the way at the end of the hall. He unlocked that door, clearing his throat as they walked in.

“It’s a little bit of a mess.” He said.

“That’s OK.” Connie looked around the small, sparsely decorated space.

He had a couch, a ratty coffee table, and an easy chair. The TV looked older than the one at her great Aunt’s house in the Bronx. Two framed pictures hung on the wall, one of the Manhattan skyline and the other a serene lake Connie didn’t recognize. There was a small wall calendar from a Chinese place tacked above the TV. A card table and two mismatched chairs passed for the kitchen furniture. The space was so small that’s all that would fit anyway. Mike had a coffeemaker, a blender, and a few random bottles of alcohol on the counter.

“Do you want a drink?” he asked. “I think I definitely need a drink.”

“No thanks.” Connie shook her head. “Do you have a first aid kit or something?”

“I actually have an excellent first aid kit.” Mike opened one of the cabinets. He pulled out a tumbler, pouring himself half a glass of Southern Comfort. Then he pulled out the big first aid kit. “Don’t tell anyone but I stole it from the University security office when I worked there. They had plenty…wouldn’t miss one.

“Your secret’s safe with me.” she smiled. “At least you're putting it to good use tonight. Sit down.”

Mike sat down on the barstool, another stolen item from his travels around the city. Well, technically, dumpster diving wasn’t stealing. Connie put the kit on the counter; it was one of the best she’d ever seen. She opened it and started cleaning Mike’s bloody face with peroxide swabs. She used a Band-Aid for the cut on his forehead and gauze for the one on his cheek.

“Does this hurt?” Connie asked, squeezing the bridge of his nose.

“A little but I’ll live.” He replied. “Why?

“If your nose was broken you’d probably scream like a girl and then swing on me.”

“I haven’t screamed like a girl since two weeks ago.”

Connie laughed. She told him that his eye would probably have a nice ring around it in the morning. Mike didn’t mind; it would heal eventually.

“Are you having difficulty breathing, any sharp pains in your stomach or side, or any dizziness and nausea?”

“You're really good at this.” Mike smiled, putting his hands on her hips. Sway, because he loved the way her hips swayed. She was Connie to all of her friends. Consuela to her father, always she said. But to Mike she was just Sway.

“Answer the question, Mr. Cutter.”

“I’m fine, except I do feel a little pain when I breathe. It’s not unbearable; my ribs are surely bruised. I think I'm fine though.” He held up one hand. “Scouts honor.”

“Take off your shirt.”

“Excuse me?”

“I need to check for internal injuries and such.” Connie was already unbuttoning his black dress shirt. She didn’t much care if he liked it or not, she was concerned. Mike couldn’t afford the ER; lots of people couldn’t, so she would do everything she could with the knowledge she had. “Stand up.”

Mike did what she said, drinking more Southern Comfort as she pulled his shirt out of his slacks. Why the hell he was so calm, he had no idea. The girl, the most beautiful fuckin girl in the world, was taking off his clothes. He should have been alternating between dancing and jerking off. That’s usually how these fantasies went. But this wasn’t a fantasy, Connie was there, and she was undressing him because he got his ass kicked and she wanted to make sure he was OK. There was nothing sexy about that.

“You have to lie down on the couch for this to be right.” Connie said.

Mike nodded, finishing his drink. OK, some porn scenarios often started out this innocent. He left the empty tumbler on the counter and went to lie on the uncomfortable couch. There was bruising in his torso area that would change color over the next couple of days. Connie got down on her knees beside the couch, undid his slacks, and pushed them down just a bit for a more thorough examination.

She had to admit to herself that she was shocked Mike was letting her undress him. He didn’t even object a little. She was getting a little turned on looking at his body, which he clearly took care of, but this wasn’t about jollies. Connie was going to examine him. Technically, they were playing doctor, but this was important.

“I need you to be honest when I ask you questions.” She said. “Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

Connie felt all around, his kidneys, lungs, stomach, and ribs. There was some tenderness, and Mike did his fair share of grimacing, but nothing seemed broken or out of place. He wasn’t coughing up blood either; a very good sign. Wow, this really turned out to be the date from hell.

“Breathe in deeply.” Connie instructed, pushing down.

Mike did, and then exhaled.

“Once more please.”

He did it again.

“OK, last time.”

He muttered an expletive but did what she asked. It wasn’t the most painful thing he ever experienced, that was splitting his chin open in Connecticut when he was seven. This wasn’t a picnic in the park though. Note to self, Cutter, don’t attempt to play hero when confronted by three angry dudes. Turn the other cheek.

No, not with those things he said to Connie. Mike saw his eyes, Emilio meant those things. And no one was ever going to hurt her while he was there to stop it. He would turn the other cheek tomorrow.

“Are you sure you're alright?” she asked once more.

“I’ll live but thank you so much for the care and exam, Dr. Rubirosa. C'mere.”

He pulled her to him, kissing her passionately. Connie tried to stand but Mike just pulled her on top of him on the couch. His kisses were so overwhelming; Connie loved the buzz in her head and the butterflies in her stomach. She ran her fingers through his blonde hair and elicited a moan from him. With his pants open, she could feel how excited her kisses made him. Connie moved her hand down to palm his erection.

“Ohhh God…” Mike’s mouth pulled away from hers as his back arched.

Connie smiled, her hand moving past his slacks and boxer briefs. He wasn’t the world’s biggest guy, not that it mattered. She liked the way he responded to being touched. She liked the way he felt in her hand; hot, hard, and sweaty. Jerking a guy was so dirty and sexy at the same time. Connie never told anyone how much it turned her on…nothing would be less ladylike. And a lady liked to keep some things to herself. It surprised her when he pulled her hand away, taking it in his.

“Sway…”

“You don’t like the way I touch you?”

Even if he didn’t, which he did, the sound of her sweet, baby girl voice while asking the question was enough to make Mike blow his load. He scrunched his face thinking about that. It had been a long time since he had a thought so dirty. It had been a long time since Mike had thought of much of anything beyond surviving to the next day or week.

“I’d be a fool not to.” he replied. “C'mon, let’s sit up.”

Connie moved over on the couch as Mike swung his feet on the floor. She sat on her feet.

“What's the matter, Mike?”

“You're…” he sighed.

“I'm what?” An edge of irritation colored her tone.

“You're seventeen years old, Connie. You don't look it, you surely don’t act it, but the truth is that you are. And I don’t wanna be that guy.”

“So we can date but we’re expected to be completely chaste?” she asked. “Cuz I’ll tell you this, there was nothing chaste about the look in your eyes that afternoon we met. There was nothing chaste about the looks before we met either.”

“There's nothing chaste about the look in my eyes now.” Mike mumbled.

“Nothing has to happen that we don’t want to happen, Mike.” She reached for his hand, knuckles bruised from the melee. “We’re both mature enough to handle what comes next. I can't pretend, I won't pretend, that I don’t want you.”

She wanted him? What did she know about wanting a man? Did he have this all wrong and Connie had more experience racked up than he did? No, he didn’t want to think like that. Was she a virgin?

Oh my God, he couldn’t think about that. Mike alternated between how hot it would be to take her virginity and how wrong. It would be wrong on so many levels. Wrong on so many glorious, delicious, back arching, toe-curling levels. But this was wasn’t a Charlotte Bronte adaptation; no girl ever lost her virginity as great as they did on TV.

Mike pulled her close, kissing her again. He loved the gentle feel and taste of her lips. Her hands on the nape of his neck were enough to drive Mike mad. All that was between her skin and his was a simple tank dress. He wanted that dress on the floor in a crumpled heap.

Just the thought of his hands, his mouth, and his cock on that sweet caramel skin made Mike quiver. He was positive it felt and tasted even better than it looked. It looked amazing. He was probably gonna burn in hell for this. It was a given he would likely burn in hell anyway. Why not rack up another sin on the way down? This would probably be worth it. Probably? Hell, it was worth it.

“Just say stop, alright Sway?” he ran his hands across her shoulders, down her arms, and up her back. “If you don’t like it or don’t want me to go further, just say stop. I’ll stop without question.”

“Am I allowed to say don’t stop?” Connie asked. How cute was he, treating her like she was a porcelain doll. She wasn’t.

“Well, to be fair I don’t see why not.”

She smiled, kissing him again. The kisses got deeper, tongues clashing as the passion got the better of them. Without breaking the kiss, Mike and Connie got up from the couch. They walked around the corner, still kissing, down the short hallway, and into the bedroom. Mike flipped on the harsh overhead light. Connie turned it off; she preferred lamplight instead.

Mike smiled when the tank dress finally came up and over her head. Would he be a perv if he asked her to leave on the pumps? He really wanted to fuck her in those pumps. Hell, he was going there on the express train. Connie seemed to read his thoughts…she left on the pumps. Now it was just skin and red lace. A teenage girl shouldn’t look so good in sexy lingerie.

“My God, you are the most beautiful girl in the world.” Mike was breathless as he led her by the hand to his bed. He pulled his slacks off before joining her.

Mike was on her like a tiger on a gazelle. He wanted to touch her, stroke her, caress her, and not miss a thing. He undressed her slow, kissing and sucking every piece of flesh as it was exposed to him. Sweet nipples like chocolate drops that he played with between his lips before sucking hard.

“Oh God, mmm,” Connie gripped the sheets as her back came up off the mattress. “Mmm yeah…”

Mike mumbled something incoherent against her skin. He didn’t want to leave her breasts; he could linger all night, but as his mouth moved down his hands came up to play. Connie was so tactile; the way she moaned and whimpered. He could feel the butterflies in her stomach as he kissed across the skin. It was unblemished except for a nick near her belly button. Mike didn’t know what to make of it but didn’t spend that much time focusing on it.

The scent of her spurred him on. He spread her thighs wide, inhaling her. Connie smiled at him and it made him feel invincible. Eager fingers stroked over the short black hairs…she even shaved like a grown woman. She was like no teenage girl he’d ever met in his life and he was a teenager once. She had the perfect triangle and he wanted to drown in it.

Connie was practically panting as he teased her. A tickle here and a stroke there, he was making her wait and there was something delicious about the torture. She wasn’t about to admit that a guy had never gone down on her before…something about that suddenly made her feel stupid. She’d gone down on a few in her time; it was time for the favor to be returned.

She was glad it was going to be Mike; that might be the only thing he was first at. Connie lost her virginity at 15. Yes, it was a young age but she walked into the situation with both eyes open. When you're in love you do what makes you feel good, even if the feeling only lasts for a split second.

His name was Andreas Herrera, he was practically best friends with her brother Christopher growing up. All the girls in the neighborhood were in love with him, with his pretty hazel eyes and his mischievous smile. He played them all like a fiddle but Connie was his favorite. He always gave her just a bit of extra attention. She lapped it up like a kitten. He knew what he was doing the whole time and she only knew in hindsight.

When he was 18 and about to go to the Marines, he took Connie up to his room and told her he cared about her so much and wanted to make love to her. She was so excited, had hardly done more than kiss a few boys that she didn’t like anyway. But she loved Andreas, and now she finally knew that he loved her back. She gave it up without a fight, which must have made him think it was his lucky day. It hurt like hell; he wasn’t sweet or gentle.

He was only thinking about himself, bagging a virgin; lots of the neighborhood boys did it. After that he hardly ever talked to her again. She saw him from time to time when he came to visit his parents but he never gave her more than a quick hi and bye. From that day on Connie promised herself that she was going to be the one in control of her sex, and his sex too…whoever he was. So far, so good. Mike better not make her fall back on her promise.

Mike definitely knew what he was doing down there. Connie never felt something so amazing in her life. His mouth, his fingers, and the noises he made as he drove her to the very edge of sanity. The noises she made…the neighbors must have thought she was dying. Connie felt the tears come to the crease of her closed eyes and slide down when Mike finally let her fall. She gripped his shoulders so hard she was sure she would draw blood.

Crying out his name as the fireworks burst behind her eyelids, Connie felt she finally knew what it was all about. No way in hell had any of her girlfriends felt something like that before. There was absolutely no way. Not that they would’ve ever been able to find the words to describe it. Euphoria. Rapture. Elation. Orgasmic. Multiple orgasmic, as he only gave her a second to breathe before pushing her again and then again.

“Mike! Oh my God!” she pulled him away from her, sure that he was going to kill her.

That would be a hell of thing to explain to the police. ‘Officer, she said I was killing her; I didn’t know she meant it’. Connie only opened her eyes enough to see Mike grin before kissing her. She could taste herself all over his lips, his tongue, and his teeth.

She even took his fingers and slipped them into her mouth and then into his. Whoa, there was something really awesome about that. Note to self, guys love it when you taste yourself. That would have to go on the list.

“I want you so much.” he growled into her ear before licking it. “Do you wanna?”

“Oh yeah, I do.” Connie nodded, a blissful grin still on her face. She felt like she was going to tingle until next Tuesday.

“Are you sure?” Mike caressed her face, covering it in gentle kisses before sliding his tongue in her mouth. They’d only known each other for a month. He’d been seeing her in the diner for weeks before that, jerking off as he thought about that damn Catholic schoolgirl uniform while he lay in his lonely bed at night. It wasn’t lonely tonight, she was actually in it with him and this wasn’t a dream.

Tired of talking, Connie yanked down his boxer briefs. Mike smiled as he pushed them down with his knees and off with his feet. He grabbed a condom from the nightstand drawer, stopping for a moment as he held it in his hand.

“What?” she asked.

“I have to ask…”

“I'm not a virgin, Mike, OK.”

“OK.” He didn’t know whether to be relieved or upset. He didn’t want to be upset because he wasn’t her first; that wasn’t really his right. Just the thought of another guy being with her, doing it wrong, not realizing what a treasure she was; that pissed him off. But he didn’t have long to think about it. Connie took the condom, tore the wrapper, and rolled it up his throbbing shaft. He moaned when she touched his skin.

“You made me come.” She whispered. “Now it’s your turn.”

Where did girls come up with lines like that? They were just so in tune, knew just what to say to make a dude feel like the most important man in the world even if they were far from it. Mike sank into the center of her, moaning her name as he filled her. She wrapped her arms around him and they began to move together on the bed.

The springs creaked…Mike liked the music they made together. He loved how she felt, hot and tight. He loved her breasts pressed on his chest and her mouth hot on his. He definitely could get used to her nails in his shoulder blades, his hips, and his ass.

“Oh Connie, ohhh yeah, ohhh God, fuck, fuck.”

She smiled, opening her mouth to whimper as he hit the right spot. He knew what he was doing. He knew when to slow down, speed up, and she could tell with each thrust just how excited he was.

“Mmm, you feel so good, Sway. My God; ohhh God.”

He moved his hand between them, stroking her clit as he got closer and closer to falling. Mike wasn’t sure if she would come again. He still wanted to make sure she felt as good as he did. Was it possible for anyone to feel as good as he did?

He felt like he was coming forever and ever; the noise that came from his diaphragm almost frightening him. But Connie took it all in stride, she took all of him. Mike didn’t want to collapse on her but she said it was OK. She liked the weight of him…wasn’t ready to let go just yet.

“You feel so good inside of me.” she whispered, kissing him.

“When you say things like that it drives me crazy.”

“Does it drive you the good crazy?”

“I'm not sure yet.” He replied.

“That’s OK; I’ll give you some time to think about it.”

“I'm gonna need a lot of time.”

Connie laughed as Mike finally pulled away from her. He threw out the condom and held her in his arms. They just lay, naked on top of the covers, neither ashamed of their nudity or of what they'd just done. This moment in time with her was worth everything Mike worried about. She was worth everything. Those damn red pumps were so sexy.

“Do you mind if I stay the night?” she asked, her fingers slowly making designs across his chest and stomach.

“I want you to. I want you to…”

“What?” She sat up some, moving away from him.

His pillows weren't all that comfortable but that wasn’t such a big deal. After kicking off the pumps, she leaned her elbow on one, staring down at him and liking the look on his face. He was such a handsome guy; had that Anglo-Saxon thing going on. He told her that he lived in Connecticut for a lot of his life. Connie always imagined that all white guys in New England looked like Mike.

They had sailboats and wore Izod…life was a walking Ralph Lauren ad. Mike was as poor as a church mouse though. He didn’t have Izod or a sailboat. He was smart, he could get it someday. That was if he ever accumulated enough credits to graduate from college. She wanted to know his whole story, knew it would take longer than a month, but feared he never stuck around in one place long enough to tell it.

“I like you a lot, Connie.” He said.

“I like you too. I liked you from the first time I saw you. I just wasn’t sure what to say to you but I saw something in your eyes.”

“What?” he stroked her cheek.

“I don't know, a spark, something I needed. Something I want. I think we both want to escape.”

“I've spent most of my life doing that. I think I need to settle down, finish college, and pursue my dreams. I think this is the place for me to do it. The best part about Manhattan, you can live here and still get lost. That might be perfect for me.”

“You're staying?”

“I suddenly don’t feel the need to run anymore. It’s the strangest feeling I have in my belly. It’s like…”

“Peace.” They said in unison.

“Yeah.” Mike nodded. He practically purred when Connie ran her fingers through his hair. Electricity was still coursing through him. He didn’t feel any pain from the beat down he got earlier in the evening. It was replaced by a bliss he was sure could never be recreated. Nothing was ever as good as the first time. But as he pulled Connie close and began to kiss her again, Mike thought he could still make some good memories with the second.

***

 
 
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