Read Online April North by Lawrence Block - Free Book Online Page B

mouth, his chest pressed against her breasts. Her winding legs pinned him to her, and their bodies moved together in a rhythm that was as old as humanity. She hugged him close, her arms around him, her nails digging involuntarily into his back.
    Time stopped. Space spread out flatter than the desert and wider than the world. Everything was perfect now, absolutely perfect, and everything was getting better, steadily better, incredibly better, impossibly more perfect. She felt all the forces of her body crouching together, readying themselves for the spring, and she felt the world racing by her, and she felt her body and his body and nothing more.
    Then passion broke for both of them at once. They reached the top of the mountain just as someone moved the mountain away, and they fell together belly-to-belly to the very bottom of the universe.
    He had lighted a cigarette. He drew on it, inhaled smoke, and passed the cigarette to her. She took a drag. No cigarette had ever tasted so good. She gave it back to him and leaned back on her pillow. Her eyes closed and she took a slow breath.
    She said, “I’m a woman now.”
    “Yes.”
    “I wasn’t before, Craig. I was just a girl.”
    “You were ready to become a woman.”
    “I know. The other boys—they weren’t anything. They never happened. Nothing before was ever anything like this. I didn’t know anything could be like this.”
    He did not answer immediately. She opened her eyes and saw that he was smiling. He gave the cigarette to her once again and she took a drag. Her entire body was limp, every muscle entirely relaxed. She had never been so thoroughly exhausted in her life. Not tired—she had no desire to sleep. Simply exhausted, drained and used up and, strangely, fulfilled.
    She reached over and touched him. “Such a wonderful thing,” she said. “Little things mean a lot, I guess.”
    “Little?”
    “Well—”
    “If you keep doing that, you might note an increase in size, girl.”
    “Woman,” she said, correcting him. “Was I good, Craig?”
    “You were good.”
    She sighed, stretched, yawned. “I want to be good,” she told him. “I want to be the best in the world.”
    “It’s a noble ambition.”
    “Am I the best, Craig? The best you ever had?”
    “No.”
    The answer surprised her. She raised herself up on one elbow and stared at him. “You could have said so,” she said. “Even if you didn’t mean it.”
    “I don’t lie.”
    “Well, what was wrong with me?”
    “Nothing was wrong with you, April.”
    “Then—”
    “Relax,” he told her. “My God, what sort of vanity could lead you to suspect that you could be the best woman I’ve ever had? You’re practically devoid of experience. You’ve got a great deal of natural talent, but there’s more to lovemaking than enthusiasm and a passionate nature. It’s an art, April. Do you know who was the best woman I ever had?”
    “Who?”
    “A forty-five-year-old prostitute in Marseilles. She had most of her teeth missing and her stomach was lined with stretch marks because she’d given birth to three children in her lifetime. Some drunken sailor broke her nose once and the bones didn’t heal properly, so her nose was bent. Her face would have stopped most clocks. But she knew more about sex than all the rest of the female world put together. Do you think you could compete with her?”
    “I’d like to try.”
    He laughed. “Wonderful,” he said. “You’re delightful, April.”
    “Was I any good at all?”
    “Do you care?”
    “Yes,” she said. “It’s very important for me to be good for you.”
    “You were excellent. I never expected you to be as good as you were.”
    “I want to be better.”
    “You will be.”
    “I suppose I have a lot to learn, don’t I?”
    “Of course.”
    She drew a breath. “Will you teach me, Craig?”
    “I’ll teach you.” He turned to her, and his hand found her breast. With the tip of his finger he drew a miniscule circle around her