Complementary Colors by Adrienne Wilder Page B

good for you.”
    His face twisted up. “It’s not.”
    “Then why are you drinking it?”
    His smile made the answer irrelevant. I reclaimed my bottle and stuck it back in his coat pocket.
    After a few more swallows, of course.
    I pressed my face against him. “I love the way you smell.”
    “I think that chili burned out more than your taste buds. You’ve practically got your nose in my arm pit.”
    “Yeah. I know.”
    It always amazed me how quick scenery could change inside the city. A few blocks could mean the difference between truckers, restaurants, shops, and ghettos. How taking a right or left could cause the real estate values to triple or plummet.
    The people changed just as drastically.
    “I want to see you again,” Roy said.
    “We had this discussion over that bowl of nuclear waste and a heart attack on a bun. Let’s not have it again.”
    “All right, but I just want to say one thing.”
    “I’m going to hold you to that.” I tripped on a crack in the sidewalk, and he kept me from falling. “Someone should fix that.”
    He kissed me on the top of my head. “Call me. If you need anything. A ride. Someone to talk to.”
    I closed my eyes and let him guide me.
    “I’m not asking you to call me every night. Or even once a week. Unless you want to. But if you need someone, someplace to go, someplace that’s…”
    I think he was going to say safe.
    He sighed. “Please. Just tell me you will so I won’t worry.”
    “You shouldn’t worry.”
    “But I will.”
    “There are so many more deserving things to worry about.”
    “But none of them are as important to me.” We stopped in front of my building. Small white flecks plummeted to their death on the sidewalk.
    “I should have bought stock in bread, milk, and eggs.” I held out a hand. The snow became tears on my skin.
    “Promise me.”
    “Maybe it won’t stick.”
    “Please.”
    “It never sticks in the city. Why is that? How come we never get a white Christmas?”
    He held my face.
    “I don’t want to lie to you.” And I didn’t.
    “If you call me when you need someone, you can’t be a liar.”
    But I would need him. I already needed him.
    “Come upstairs with me.” I pulled him by the front of his flannel shirt into the alcove near the door where it was still the dead of night in the corners. With an overcast sky, it would stay that way.
    Roy’s exhale shuddered. He was already hard when I squeezed us into the niche.
    “Come upstairs and fuck me.” I bit his earlobe. Roy slid his hands under my coat. He dug at my shirt until he found my skin. Somehow his touch was warm, or maybe I was just that cold.
    “Paris.” My name sounded more like a growl. I rocked against him. “God, Paris…”
    I licked his throat, his chin, then found his mouth. His lips were salty from the french fries, his tongue sweet from dessert.
    “You want that, don’t you?” I said.
    “Yes.” He tightened his grip.
    “You want my mouth on your dick.”
    “Yes.”
    “Your cock in my ass.”
    Roy buried a groan into my shoulder.
    “Then come upstairs with me.” I pushed my thigh between his legs.
    He rolled his hips.
    “Unless you want to do it right here. Is that what you want, Roy? To fuck me out here in front of everyone?” I fumbled with his pants. “They could catch us. No telling what would happen.”
    A man walked out of the building. The shadows of the alcove were so thick, even from a few yards away, he didn’t see us.
    I freed Roy’s cock. “Better hang onto the wall.”
    He gripped the edges of the brick, and I dropped to my knees. The spices from the food and liquor gave way to his flavor. And it was so much better.
    I hummed as I took him as deep as I could. Roy didn’t need any encouragement to pump his hips. I pushed my fingers between his legs to the soft spot behind his balls. I stroked the base of his cock with my other hand and worked my mouth over the head. In the darkness with only the slice of light escaping from