The Last Innocent Man

David took off his clothes, his eyes never leaving her. Her body was magnificent. An athletic figure with breasts that were small and perfectly formed. He watched the gentle rhythm of her breathing and the rise and fall of her rib cage under her smooth, tanned skin.

They touched and she melted into him. They stroked each other, and he forgot where he was and who he was. There was desperation and abandon in her lovemaking, and she moved under him with violence and passion until her body suddenly arched and her eyes closed tight. He could feel her fingers digging into his back and he heard her gasp, then moan.

They held each other for a while; then David rolled slowly to his back. She pressed her head to his chest and sighed. He wound his fingers through her long blond hair. His fingers strayed to her cheek. It was damp with tears.

“Don’t cry,” he whispered.

“I’m always sad after I make love. Really make love. I feel…I don’t know…as if I’d lost something.”

He sat up and gently pushed her back. Moonlight illuminated her hair and made it look like strands of gold against the pale blue of the pillow cover.

“You’re very beautiful,” David said. She turned her head away from him.

“Have I said something wrong?” he asked.

“No…I…it’s just that…”

He placed a finger over her lips, then kissed them. The longing he felt for her welled up in him. She drew him down.

“IHAVE TO go,” she said. “It’s very late.”

He looked at the digital clock on his nightstand. It was after midnight.

“Why don’t you spend the night? I promise to cook you a terrific breakfast in the morning.”

Valerie looked suddenly worried.

“I can’t stay, David. It’s…I just can’t.”

“Why?” David asked, concerned by her sudden change of mood.

“Please, David. It has nothing to do with you. I can’t stay. That’s all. Can you take me back to Mr. Banks’s house? I left my car there.”

David nodded. She stood up and walked to the bathroom, picking up her clothes on the way. He watched her from the bed. She pressed the light switch, and floor-to-ceiling mirrors reflected her in a halo of light. Each part of her body was like a piece of fine sculpture. The long, thin arms, the well-formed legs, the flat, muscular stomach. He wanted to touch her again.

She moved out of his line of vision, and he heard the shower door open. David lay back on the bed and looked at the ceiling. They had been good together sexually. He felt as if he were giving a part of himself when he was inside her, instead of simply taking. He had not felt that way in a long time.

The shower started and David turned his head toward the bathroom door. He didn’t want Valerie to leave and he wondered why she had to. The obvious answer was that she was married. That would explain her nervousness at the party. Would it make any difference to him if he found out she was married? No, he decided.

The water stopped and David started to dress. He wondered what it would be like to love somebody. What he and Monica had was not love, but he had never felt as strongly about any other woman. He thought about Gregory Banks and his marriage, which had lasted so long. What was the secret? Was it all chemical? Was he missing something that other men had?

Valerie finished combing her hair and turned off the bathroom light. David put on a pair of slacks. He looked at her while he buttoned his sport shirt. Valerie walked around the room, glancing out the window, fingering objects, not looking at him. He wanted to see her again. There was something about her. He wanted to know if what he felt for her was a product of the magic of the evening or something more.

They rode down from the hills in silence. The view was very beautiful, and neither wanted to break the spell it created. Most of Gregory’s guests had left, but there was still noise coming from the big house. Valerie’s car was at the foot of the long, winding driveway. David stopped behind it. He turned off the ignition and they sat in the dark.

“I’d like to see you again,” David said.

She looked suddenly nervous, as if she regretted the evening.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“David,” she said slowly, “I don’t want you to misunderstand. I enjoyed…had a wonderful time…being with you. But I’m a little confused just now.”

She stopped. He wanted to hold her. To press her. To make her commit herself. But he knew that would be a mistake.

“All right,” he said. “I’m glad we spent the evening together, too. If you feel the same way, you know how to get in touch with me.”

Valerie looked down at her lap, then turned quickly and kissed him, opened the door, and walked to her car. David watched her drive off. He was tired and a little down, but he didn’t start back immediately.

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