Free Calm Like Home by Kaisa Clark

Westbrook.”
    He laughs and kisses my temple. “Glad I learned at least one thing in college.”
    He bends to retrieve two fresh beers from the refrigerator, cradling them in his left hand before taking my hand in his right. We pass by Damien so Adam can hand one off then he settles me onto his lap on the couch. I lean back against his chest and he trails his fingertips against mine. I can feel his breath tickling my shoulder, the occasional graze of his lips against my skin, burning through me. The others chat and laugh and joke but all I can think of is him. I can hardly follow the conversation with Adam seemingly bent on distracting me.
    “Geez, Annabelle, why is it so effing hot in here?” Damien groans.
    Here I’d been thinking it was just me burning up from Adam’s touch.
    “Something must be wrong with my AC.” She rises to pull open the French doors to her balcony and flips the ceiling fan on. It does little to dissipate the heat and the group beings to thin.
    Damien looks at the time and then over at Adam. “Shit, man. I gotta run. I’m on first thing tomorrow. Can you take me home?”
    I silently curse him for riding here with Adam but move to the side so Adam can rise off the couch. He’s reaching for his keys on the coffee table when Annabelle springs up. “I’ll take you, Damien. You know, since your house probably isn’t on the way for Adam.” I know she’s BS-ing. She has no clue where Adam lives and neither do I.
    Damien shrugs apathetically and claps hands with Adam, nods to me, then heads for the door. Annabelle follows close behind but makes sure to catch my eye before passing through the door, animatedly mouthing, “Have fun” as she pulls it shut.
    The second we’re alone, Adam and I lurch for each other. In an instant I’m on top of him, one leg on either side of each of his. Warm fingers clutch my neck, skim over my chest, trace lines beneath my tank top. It’s all I can do to breathe. His tongue caresses mine, darting in and out my mouth, his lips slick against my own. We kiss deep and furious, like neither one of us could possibly take one more second without our mouths touching.
    The heat in the apartment feels as though it’s increased tenfold since Annabelle left. Adam pulls his shirt up over his head, revealing tan skin that lightly glistens with sweat. I draw my fingers down his thick triceps and lean in to kiss along his collarbone, relishing the saltiness on my lips. I make my way up his neck and gently tug on his earlobe with my teeth. A low, guttural groan escapes his lips and I feel his hand slide up the back of my neck. He tugs my hair so my mouth finds his again and he massages his tongue against mine, pressing into me with urgency, his hands singing over my skin, lifting the hem of my tank top up. He carefully hauls it over my head and tosses it over the back of the couch, his eyes flicking over me, taking me in. He makes swift work of removing my bra, then bends to plant soft kisses over my exposed neck and chest, lips barely grazing over skin as he goes. I tip my head back, letting his touch completely take me away, feeling radiant, feeling bold, feeling completely intoxicated with everything he is.
    Adam’s fingers are unfastening the button on my shorts when Annabelle begins fumbling noisily for her keys in the hallway outside the door. She’s practically yelling, “I wish I could find my keys,” as she jangles her purse around, clanging the metal clasps against the doorknob.
    Adam swiftly pulls me down beside him on the couch and manages to tug a blanket over us before she walks in. Without a word, we both pretend to be asleep as she enters the apartment and heads back to her room. I doubt we fool her, especially with his shirt and my bra discarded on the back of the couch.
    Adam’s muscular chest is pressed up against the bare skin of my back, his breath swirling around my neck, still coming in quick bursts. When her door clicks shut, his strong arms clench