Sex and Death in the American Novel

Sex and Death in the American Novel by Sarah Martinez Page B

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Authors: Sarah Martinez
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my heart sank, the chair he had been sitting in was abandoned, empty, dark…in fact, the entire floor was empty.
    I inclined my head toward him, agreement, and then saw a familiar figure leaning against the wall, beside the stairs. One skinny leg was hooked over the other, and his arms hung loose making him seem totally defenseless and the farthest thing from threatening I could imagine. As I watched, he crossed his arms over his front, grasped the bottom of his sweater and pulled it over his head, leaving him with just his sensible dress shirt.
    Shaking my head at Eric, I leaned over and said, “Head home kiddo, I'll be here awhile.” He looked disappointed though not surprised.
    Eric put his arms around me, held me for a minute, then kissed me on the neck. “Be careful, sweetie.” As Lady GaGa began the vocal lead up to “Bad Romance,” Eric walked away with his head down like he had failed at something.
    I moved out to the dance floor. Vlad was still there, as were Leo and a new male friend. I closed my eyes and spun around with my hands above my head. When I opened my eyes, there was Jasper Caldwell, not six inches from my face. I faced him, then turned in a slow circle, inviting him to come closer, though he did not at first. Was he shy, or working some angle? I fell back into my usual rhythm, hands slipping together, running along the length of my forearm, then down to my hips, absorbing the throbbing beat, moving through me, changing me, making me something other: something better, something strange, different, and wonderful.
    Dancing to loud music, the right music, was better than sex. A techno-enhanced female voice and the heavy beat pulsed and throbbed through every part of me, hoping the night would never end. I was on fire when the lights shone down on me, and my arms raised above my head, I felt free, so free, just me, nothing holding me back, just rhythm, bass and the limits of my physical strength.
    A tentative hand rested on my waist, I did not turn but moved beneath it. His hand was enormous. Pushing beyond a flutter of nerves, I wound my hand over his and entwined my fingers into his, and pulled away when the rhythm got stronger. He followed; I came closer, and at intervals dictated by the music, I pulled away then came back. I placed my hands on his shoulders and circled him, grazing his legs with my hips, arms, and once swept my breasts across his back. When I did this, he tipped his head backward, eyes closed, and a current ran through my body.
    The music slowed; I came closer, from behind him, his dark hair inviting me to hide my face there for a moment, the skin at his temples only beginning to wet from his exertions, reminding me how soaked I was. He leaned far back to rest his head on my shoulder; with my fingertip I traced his mouth in one swift movement, then twisted around, touching his forehead with mine, making real contact. He moved forward, following me, chasing me, moving me now with those long-fingered hands, his grip sure on my hips, and sometimes moving up my ribs before I twisted away with a smile.
    After some time, he craned his head toward the bar, and I followed. I started off with three waters, getting an impressed noise from him as he watched me gulp it down. We sat and sipped our virgin drinks—basically lemonade—more slowly. It was well after the last call.
    He leaned into me, his smell clean, quite a feat for this place especially after dancing this long. “Smoke?”
    “Sometimes,” I answered.
    I finished my drink and followed him outside, the walls in the alley brightly lit, a different atmosphere from the dark safety inside. A small, darkman and a tall woman in a red dress were making out in between drags on a cigarette the woman held.
    Jasper pulled out a pack of cigarettes, a brand I wasn't familiar with. He lit one and held it out to me and I took it. I eyed the filter end before I took a long drag. He lit another.
    “What?” he asked.
    “Looking for the dollar

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