I Like My Coffee Black

"Another Canadian Club?"

I almost fall off the chair at the sound of Samantha's voice.

"No thanks, I'm driving," Zack responds in a raspy voice, with a sense of strain.

"You don't tell your bartender you're driving after you've downed a couple drinks!" She exclaims, taking the empty glass out of his hand, her fingers momentarily grazing his thumb.

"Not a couple, Sam, just one." Zack fully shifts his attention to her, flashing his signature grin. "I'll be just fine, I promise."

"Only if you promise." She gives him a beguiling smile. "I would have hated it if something happened to you."

A surge of frustration tightens my chest.

"Another port for you?" He checks in with me before asking for the check.

"Actually, I was about to bounce,"I lie, looking down at my phone, pretending to have received a message. "My ride is here."

My words catch him off guard. His brows furrow slightly, and he tenses up, a spontaneous array of emotions unfolding on his face. It's as if my sudden departure clashes with the narrative he had in mind.

"The guy that you are really into?" He finally asks, a note of disappointment lingering in his voice.

A note of disappointment?! Really?! I should stop this nonsense right now! I should stop thinking something into nothing! Yes, I want him to be into me, and I want him to be sad about me leaving. I want him to ask me to spend the night with him, but that's the one thing that's not going to happen! So I should just grab my freaking coat and walk out that door!

"Exactly," I lie again, grabbing my purse.

As always, Zack stands up and gallantly helps me into my coat.

"Lucky bastard," he whispers into my ear, giving me a warm hug.

I close my eyes and feel the steady beat of his heart. I inhale his comforting smell one more time and squeeze his broad shoulders as hard as I can. And then I break the embrace.

"Goodbye, Zack," I murmur, taking a determined step back.

The moment I step my foot outside, I regret my hasty decision. The foggy drizzle has turned into nasty rain, and the wind is a little too refreshing for my taste. I prop up the collar of my coat and start walking to avoid looking like an idiot. The bar windows are treacherously big and provide a wonderful view of the block, so I need to at least turn the corner to be out of Zack's view. I can only hope I'll get an Uber fast.

Fifteen minutes?! You must be kidding!

I stare at my phone in disbelief, raindrops tracing unpredictable patterns on the screen. I'm already soaked to the bone, and I feel like crying. Desperate, I hit the uberPool option, hoping that the shared ride will be easier to score.

Two minutes! Better! Two minutes is not that long! I try to cheer myself up, fighting back tears. It's not me... She is just out there... And she's his age... And I cannot compete with that.

I've always liked who I was. I've always felt proud of my accomplishments. And I've never been at war with my own body. But something about this moment makes me wish I were someone else, someone younger, more careless, and a lot more audacious.

I close my eyes in a futile attempt to reconcile my feelings, but the only thing that manages to take the burden off my mind is my chilled through feet. By the time a white Chevy Malibu pulls up to pick me up, I am already shivering.

Without a moment's hesitation, I open the door and flop onto the rear seat. It's late, and I don't have the energy for small talk. So I reluctantly greet the driver and avoid making eye contact with the stranger sitting next to me.

As the car starts moving, I lock my eyes on the window, losing myself in the blurred city lights. I love Chicago, it pulses with life even on rainy days like this.

"Who would have thought it would be raining in Chicago in February?" The stranger's cheerful voice cuts through my foggy mind.

It takes me a moment to realize who's sitting next to me.

"Zack," I utter his name softly, a mix of nervousness and elation washing over my shivering body.

Yes, it is him, and he is right here, so pleasantly close to me.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, attempting to contain the array of emotions stirring up on the inside. I am beyond happy to see him, but it is also awkward because I feel a pang of embarrassment for having lied at the bar.

"There is no other guy, is there?" Zack says softly, relaxed and composed, not his usual bubbly self.

"There is no other guy," I confirm, momentarily shifting my gaze to the fogged window and returning my searching eyes back to him. "Things haven't worked out with Sam?"

"Nah, she's not my type," he replies calmly, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I appreciate a different kind of charm, you know?"

His hand reaches for mine, and the warmth of his skin sends a pleasant shockwave throughout my whole body. No doubt, this touch is more than a gesture. He's undeniably drawn to me. And he's very upfront with it.

The intimacy of this moment is overwhelming. His demeanor is reassuring and inviting, and yet I feel as nervous as a schoolgirl.

The driver pulls over to the curb.

"Come over for a cup of coffee." Zack tugs on my hand, opening the door. "I know exactly how you like it."

Exhausted by the constant fight with myself, I give in to the moment and get out of the car.

A triumphant smile illuminates his face.

He greets the doorman in the lobby and presses the elevator call button. The door opens immediately.

He says nothing as we ride up, but finds my hand and takes it into his. It is now that I notice that I'm still shivering, either from the cold or because of his touch - I don't really know anymore. I feel progressively dizzy and uneasy.

Once inside his unit, he takes my purse and helps me out of my drenched coat.

I take my shoes off and look around. He must have just moved in; there's hardly any furniture, and I see unpacked boxes stacked in the corner.

"You are practically shaking; I think you need a hot shower!" He says, putting my stuff away, and points to the door on the left. "I'll make us coffee meanwhile."

I nod yes.

I open the door and step into the bathroom, wondering if I am sober enough to make the decisions I won't regret in the morning. The cool tile beneath my feet sends an unpleasant shiver up my spine. The room is bathed in soft light, casting a gentle glow on the empty white surfaces. A faint scent of bergamot and cascalone hangs in the air, creating a sense of comfort in the midst of the unknown.

I turn the shower knob all the way to hot and let the room get filled with the pleasant steam. Not without effort, I undo my blouse and pull the wet skirt down my hips. I slowly roll down the stockings and take off my bra. I steal a glance at my body right before the vanity mirror mists up.

I stand almost fully naked, a neat strip of dark hair showing through the wet lace panties. Ironically, I wore pink tonight. I'm not twenty-five anymore, but I'm not lacking beauty either. It's just more defined, refined by an extra decade.

One by one, I take the pins out of my hair, letting the wet strands fall down onto my shoulders.

"I'm gonna leave some dry clothes for -"

Zack opens the door, wearing only his briefs, and freezes mid-sentence, a shirt and a towel almost falling out of his hands. He must have assumed I was already behind the curtain as the water had been running for a while.

I don't flinch or try to cover myself. Instead, I straighten my back and pull my hair away, letting his eyes bore into my hard nipples. My whole body is still covered with goosebumps, but I've stopped trembling.

He doesn't rush out of the room but allows himself to stare, taking in the view. A mixture of nervous excitement and genuine curiosity unravels on his face.

I stand paralyzed, not knowing what to do. If I show any sign of embarrassment, he'll walk out the door. So I gather my courage and slowly raise my right arm to my chest. I cup my left breast and squeeze the nipple between my index and middle fingers.

My whole face sets on fire, and I sense a familiar tingling between my legs.

I notice a slight twitch in the muscles of his jaw and a subtle smirk playing across his lips. He steps in and closes the door, as if giving me reassurance that he's not running for the hills. He doesn't come close, however. He's challenging me to proceed.

I cannot bear his provocative stare and close my eyes. The middle finger of my right hand touches my navel as I imagine him coming close and tugging on the waistband of my panties.

What am I going to do if he just stands there and keeps watching? How long can I go on without his participation?

In the frenzy of anticipation, my body starts trembling again.

I hear the dull sound of something landing on the floor. He must have dropped the towel and the shirt that he was holding.

A little more certain of my actions, I lower my hand and trace the strip of the curly hair. I run my cold fingers down to my clit. This is when he comes close, and I feel the warmth of his palm over my hand, his soft lips brushing against my neck.

I suddenly feel uninhibited, liberated by his intoxicating proximity.

He doesn't slide his hand into my panties, though, but rather covers mine over the lace, his fingers sliding even further down, reaching the hot, wet spot between my legs.

My inner muscles ache with need. I am so ready for him.

A spark of shame cuts through my foggy mind, but I nip that useless feeling in the bud. As his other hand runs down my back, along my buttocks, I let go of my nipple and find the front of his briefs. I slide my hand into the secret pocket and wrap around his already hard shaft.

He lets out a heavy sigh of pleasure yet stops me, leaning in.

"It's your turn to obey," he whispers in my ear, securing my wrists behind my back.

My hands form into fists as I make an effort to suppress the desire to rebel.

Now, how is this relationship ever going to work out?..

As if rewarding my obedience, he pulls the lace strip of my thongs aside and slides his fingers into the pulsing opening.

Ah...

Having given me a moment to get used to the overwhelming sensation, he starts massaging my clit with the base of his palm, thrusting his fingers in and out.

It feels so good. Too good. Too much and not enough.

I want him inside me. I want to drive my fingers into his shoulders. I want to wrap my legs around his hips. I want to feel the firmness of his ass against the skin of my calves.

A moan of weariness escapes my mouth, and he swallows it with his lips.

Oh yes, he knows exactly what I want. He knows how close I am and is challenging me to fight the forthcoming climax, deliberately prolonging the torture.

Just as I'm about to give in to the intensifying tension, Zack sweeps me up and lands my ass on the cold edge of the console sink. He frees himself from his briefs, then pulls my thighs apart and steps between them. He grabs my hair and tugs it back.

"Look at me!" He commands, groaning, then thrusts into me, burying deep.

My head falls back, and I can't contain a delirious moan. This is exactly what I've been waiting for. Him taking me rough, rewarding both of us with the agonizing pleasure, the pleasure of finally letting out months worth of suppressed craving and lust.

This elegant sink is probably not designed to endure our furious play, and he's definitely not wearing a condom. But I am too delirious to worry about that. Thrusting in deeper and harder, he leans forward and steadies his hands against the mirror.

The sensation of him so deep inside me ousts all air out of my lungs, my pelvic muscles clenching rhythmically around his shaft.

My body is still spasming with the last waves of orgasm when Zack pulls out and starts erupting all over my thighs. His almost painful groans rise above my moans, and I feel the warm drops of sperm on my skin.

His head falls against my chest as he tries to catch his breath.

When he finally raises his eyes to my flushed face, he wraps his hands around my thighs and pauses, savoring the moment.

"I'm sure I've managed to warm you up," he says with an apologetic smile. "But it looks like you have a whole different reason to take a shower."

He lets go of my thighs, grabs the towel, and wipes himself off.

"Close the door on your way out and make sure you have that coffee ready!" I issue an order, somewhat anxious to get a little privacy. It's been awhile since I had any action, and I've never felt comfortable with the awkward silence right after sex. So I'm more than happy to take a shower alone.

"Yes, boss!" He grabs his briefs and heads out.

"Thank god I'm not your boss anymore!" I yell jokingly, getting behind the curtain.

"Thank god you are not!" He teases from behind the door.

"Wait a minute!" I yell in surprise."You are not supposed to agree with that! Was I really such a bad mentor?"

"You were a great mentor." He sticks his head back into the bathroom. "With a strong work ethic. And that is why none of this would have happened if you still were."

I take my time to enjoy the hot, thin jets of water and wash Zack's sticky substance off my skin. I wonder if he'll ask me to stay for the night. I wonder if I'll agree to that. I wonder if I'll be able to fall asleep on that falling-apart futon of his if I stay. I wonder if we are going to sleep at all.

I think about the kitchen countertop that is just the right height, and can't stop my hands from running down to my clit again. He felt so good inside me, better than my silicone friend, and much better than my two fingers.

Definitely on the kitchen countertop, that futon is not going to survive it...

By the time I come out of the shower, wearing only his shirt, I find a freshly brewed cup of coffee waiting for me on the gray kitchen countertop.

"A very special drink for a very special lady on a very special night," he says with a sly grin, sliding the cup closer to me.

I grab the cup and notice the heart pattern, drawn on the coffee foam. I find it somewhat cheesy, but it doesn't fail to put a childish smile on my face.

That's right, Zack told me once he used to work as a barista for Intelligentsia Coffee.

"Very sweet!" I laugh, rotating the mug in my hands. "But have you forgotten that I like my coffee-"

"Black, no cream or sugar." He hands me a cup of black coffee with a piece of biscuit on the side, just as I like it.