So Different Read online

  “Ready? Let’s go,” Dee said, blowing that whistle. Mariah took off, racing to catch up to Lisa and Sally in the back, not usually much of a problem for her. Usually they helped her try and get around, but tonight they were to block her. No problem. She bumped into Lisa, who didn’t weigh much. She gave her a hip check; her timing was good, and it forced Lisa to the side. Sally was different.

  Mariah pushed and shoved and eventually got by her to encounter her other nemesis, Good & Plenty, who was built more like Casper—tall and stocky—but twice as thick, and she’d put Mariah on her ass quite a bit in the past. Mariah moved to pass her, but not today, it seemed; one hip check and she went sprawling, landing on her hip. Ouch. She jumped up and went back for more. It was what derby women did—fall down and get back up.

  Practice was thirty minutes of sustaining hits for Mariah and thirty minutes of speed and agility training.

  She rolled over to the bench afterward and took off her skates, peeking at Adam under her eyelashes. She caught his gaze; he was waiting patiently, as always. She glanced in his direction a few minutes later and he smiled—at what she didn’t know. He had one beautiful smile. She gave him a glare, just for the hell of it. When she was done, she glanced over at him again.

  He sat now, elbows resting on his knees, those glasses giving him the sexy nerd look. She loved that about him, that he could be both.

  Get a grip, Mariah, it’s just sex, and don’t you forget it. Two weeks of him coming by and picking you up should remind you of that. Five minutes later she was walking towards him.

  “Tough practice,” he said, watching her slight limp as he met her at the door.

  “Yep. Dee was on a tear, wanting us to be a better team. I wish,” she said.

  “Maybe next year, ” he said, opening the door for her. He followed her out into the night.

  She laughed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she said, reaching her car door. She unlocked it, threw her bag into the back, and turned to him.

  “If you’re tired, I’ll understand. We can catch up later.”

  “Are you tired?” she asked, or more like scoffed.

  “Nope.”

  “I’ll see you in a few, then,” she replied.

  “Looking forward to it,” he said and gave her that dentist smile again, so fresh and so clean-clean.

  She smiled back, hers matching his as she slid into her car. He stood and watched as she drove away, shaking his head at this. Mariah would probably rather bite off her tongue before she’d let on that practice had been hard on her. Maybe tonight he could go easy. Limit her aggression. Tonight could be slow and easy, the style of sex he favored.

  * * *

  Forty-five minutes later Mariah knocked, like clockwork, and he opened the door. She was dressed in a skirt, flowing, stopping a little above her knee, with a t-shirt. It was either a skirt or cargo pants with Mariah, her signature looks.

  She pulled her helmet off and set it and her bag on the floor. Her hair, black in color today, was wet on her head. The color changed often. Blonde was still his preference, though. He walked over to meet her, his hand going around her waist as he leaned in for a kiss. He pushed her against the door and reached for the bottom of her shirt.

  “I…wait…” she said, but his mouth found hers, and his tongue entered her mouth when she opened it. Okay, here and now works, she thought. He pulled her shirt over her head while she worked to release the catch that held her skirt in place. No slow-and-easy Adam tonight. Fine. She could work with fast—preferred it, actually. Her skirt fell and she pushed him away a second to get out of her underwear. He stood there and stared at her, chest moving in and out, breathing hard.

  “What?” she asked. Not sure what to make of him.

  “Nothing,” he said, laughing at little, almost to himself. He grabbed her hand and led her to his bedroom. Thirty minutes later, they lay side by side, letting their breathing slow.

  “How often does your team practice blocking?” he said, in between breaths.

  “Once a month. Dee thinks it’s our weak spot.”

  “So have you ever thought about timing? Trying to get them off balance before trying to pass?”

  “I know you’re not trying to give me advice on how to play derby,” she said.

  “No, I’m not. I used to wrestle in high school, and sometimes it was about gauging your opponent before making your move. All about timing.”

  “Oh, so you think it’s easy, huh?” she said, rolling over to face him. “You think you can block me?”

  “What?” he asked, staring at her now liked she lost her mind. She was sitting up now.

  “I said, do you think you could block me?”

  “I don’t know… I think so… yeah, maybe, except you’ve got the skating ability… advantage, but yes, I could block you,” he said, smiling at the challenge staring back at him.

  “Okay, stand up,” she said, getting onto her feet, all trace of being tired gone.

  “What?” he asked, looking at her, standing naked at his bedside, challenge in her gaze. “Now? Here?”

  “Yep,” she said, reaching for his hand and almost pulling him up.

  “Mariah, you’re scary,” he said, but stood.

  “That’s my name. Don’t wear it out,” she said, grinning now.

  “Maybe I should get dressed,” he said, standing nude beside her, looking around for his boxers.

  “If you want to. I won’t hurt you, though,” she said, looking around at the room, too. “It’s too small in here. Let’s try the living room.” She turned on her heel and walked out of the bedroom.

  He laughed, surprised at this turn of events. He slipped on his boxers and followed her out. He walked into the room and caught her pulling on her t-shirt, his favorite underwear already on and covering her lower half. He watched as she moved his table to the end of the couch, out of the way. He loved her body, the color; loved that she was totally not self-conscious, working intently in her underwear and t-shirt. He didn’t have much furniture, so it didn’t take her long to clear a space for them.

  She looked up at him. “Ready?” she asked.

  “Sure,” he replied, not at all sure, but ready to do whatever.

  “Okay, you stand here,” she said, pulling him to stand in the middle of the room.

  “I’ll come from behind you, and you try to prevent me from getting around you.”

  “Okay,” he said, still chuckling at her.

  “You won’t be laughing in a minute after I’ve gotten around you,” she said, challenge in her gaze, a smile on her lips, menacing a little, the kick ass roller girl now in place.

  “All right,” he said, trying not to laugh.

  He turned to face the front. She didn’t really stand a chance. He outweighed her by fifty pounds. He listened. It was quiet. Then he heard her moving to him, on his right side. He waited until she got close and pushed her with his hip, knocking her onto the couch that was between him and the wall on his right side. He turned to look at her, smiled and laughed at her expression, a mix of surprise and determination. He laughed again.

  “I wasn’t really trying,” she said, standing up. “Let’s try it again.” She marched back to start over.

  He listened and this time she moved to his left. He waited until she reached him and he gave a fake-elbow and a half-hearted shove and let her get past.

  “You weren’t trying that time,” she said, turning around to face him. “It’s not the same since you’re not in skates. Its hard to simulate,” she said, standing there staring at him, trying not to laugh. How odd this was.

  “Mariah Scary,” he said, shaking his head in amusement, and started laughing again.

  “I could take you,” she said.

  “I bet you could,” he replied, eyeing her. He reached for her, and she moved just out of his reach, looking up at him in challenge. “Don’t make me take you, Mariah,” he said with a warning gleam in his eye.

  “Sure about that?” she sa
id.

  They stood there, smiling, waiting to see who would move first. She faked left and went right. He caught her, one arm around her waist, lifted her, and put her back in front. He smiled again, waiting for her to try her next move.

  She looked over his right shoulder, her eyes widening, like there was someone behind him, but he didn’t take the bait. He laughed instead, his eyes never leaving hers. She chuckled, too, clearly calculating. She did that faking left thing again, and went right. He caught her and put her back in front.

  “Give up?” he asked.

  “Nope,” she said, and reached for his testicles, catching him off guard. His arms came down to stop her and she pushed him then, knocking him over onto the couch. She took off, laughing over her shoulder as she ran towards the bedroom, hoping to close the door before he could catch her. She pushed the door closed, but was no match in strength with him as he pushed back and the door opened. He entered to find her lying on the bed, her arms behind her head, pretending she’d been there waiting for him all along. He laughed and walked over to look down at her before stripping, his eyes on hers as she did the same before he slid his body over the satiny smoothness of hers.

  “We’re going to be extremely tired in the morning,” he said, leaning down, his lips touching hers softly. They stayed there for a second or two, exploring each other’s mouths. She was glad he was a kisser, because she was, too, and could spend lots of time at his mouth. He never seemed in a hurry, never rushed this. He’d always seemed to want to go slow—so unlike her—but she was coming over to see it from his perspective.

  “Open for me,” he whispered against her lips, reaching for a condom.

  “You know, I love it when you say that, when you ask me in that way,” she whispered. “You did it at the office, the first time I saw you.”

  “Glad you like it,” he said, pushing her legs apart. Her arms moved to surround his neck, but he turned them, and he was on his back now, and she was full flush on him. He grabbed her ass, one round cheek for each hand, feeling the smoothness of them, ran a close second to her breasts. With his hands full of her now, he used them to move her, to slide her hips and body upward, until the juncture of her thighs rested just at the tip of his penis.

  “Open for me,” he said again, in that quiet authoritarian way of his, staring at her, eyes open, all serious and smoking. She complied. He pushed her ass downward, entering her ever so slowly, and she moaned. So did he at the way she always made him feel when he entered her, welcome and necessary. He could live in the mines of Mariah forever.

  “Now close,” he whispered, and waited for her legs to close before he whispered again, “Relax and let me.” She did. He used his hands on her ass and began to move her body up and down, a nice, smooth, soft, wet, carnal glide in and out of her body in that slow way he preferred. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the strength and quiet authority that was Adam.

  * * *

  Third week in May, Thursday night

  “You must be good. He keeps coming back,” Sally said, skating over to Mariah as Adam took a seat near the door; his normal perch while he watched practice end. Mariah gave her the middle finger. They were into week number three—just Tuesdays and Thursdays—no more, no less. She had yet to give him her number, and he hadn’t asked, so they were okay, apparently. She laughed and skated away.

  * * *

  “I know all of that,” he said, blowing her off like he was past the beginning stage. They were at his apartment now, in bed, same as usual—she on top, catching her breath. He ran his hand over her back.

  “So you think you know derby now?” she said, looking down into his eyes. They were twinkling.

  “I do. The basics, anyway,” he said, and she laughed again.

  “You don’t believe me,” he said, slightly bent at being challenged. “Its not rocket science. I’ve played sports before.”

  “I’m not saying you don’t, but you’ve come to a total of three matches and a few practices and now you’re the derby expert,” she said. He turned onto his side, effectively dumping her over onto the bed.

  “Touchy,” she said and laughed, throwing a pillow as he left the room, heading to the bathroom. A few seconds later he returned with a bottle of vitamins and a jar of aspirin in his hands.

  “Kinky. Pills. And what are we going to do with those?” she said, moving her eyebrows up and down. He laughed.

  “Shut up and move over,” he said, opening the cap and pouring the vitamins on the bed.

  “I don’t know this game,” she said and he chuckled.

  She watched and he counted out five vitamins. “Thunderstorm,” he said.

  They were large and brown vitamins.

  He opened the other bottle of aspirin. These were white and smaller.

  “These are the Brass Knuckles. See? They are smaller and usually get their asses handed to them. Quite regularly, I might add, ” he said and grunted when she punched his arm.

  “Keep it up and you’ll get hurt,” he said, pushing her hand away. “Now I am going to school you, sensei.” She listened, impressed in spite of herself at how he’d picked up some of the subtleties of the game, explaining as he moved the vitamins and pills around on the bed.

  She looked at his face, admiring him, as she lay on her side, her hand bracing her head. He’d make someone a very nice catch, she thought, and stopped because, for the first time, she felt a slight tinge of weirdness around the area surrounding her heart.

  “Done. I could go into strategy, but I don’t want to embarrass you,” he said, placing the vitamins and aspirin back into their respective containers.

  “Very good. I’m impressed,” she said.

  “So, is there no reward for the students who does his homework?” he asked, moving the containers to the nightstand next to his bed.

  “What do you want?” she said, as he moved over and settled on top of her, one of his legs in between hers, his hand surrounding her wrists, placing them next to her head. He bent down for a kiss.

  “Open for me,” he whispered, tugging at her lips with his, his voice warm and smooth like honey, a match for what those three words delivered by him, in that smooth slow way of his, did to her blood.

  * * *

  Third week of May – Friday

  Adam stood at the counter, looking over today’s schedule. It was early and he was a little tired from last night, but in a good way. His body hummed, and he laughed at Mariah and her surprised expression as he showed her his vitamins. He laughed at how that sounded to his ears.

  “Who is that smile for?” Maggie asked. He ignored her question.

  “Fine. Keep your little secrets, but I know what’s up,” she said. He gave her a smirk.

  “Dr. Barnett.”

  He walked from the counter in the receptionist area, seeking the person who had called his name. It was Elsa, his new cleaning lady.

  “Dr. Barnett, thank you so much for helping my Jenny’s smile. It much better,” she said, reaching for and pulling his hands into the two of hers. “I feel bad,” she said, her mouth turning downward into a pout.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “You home too little to clean. You don’t make much mess, except for the bed. I don’t know you live in it. So I said to myself, I say, Elsa, take that Dr. Junior Barnett some food. You too small, need to eat more. I’m good cook. Cook for my husband’s business, Hector’s Taco and Tamales. Very good,” she said, smiling with pleasure. “I will bring you food. Your refrigerator is always empty. You could save money by eating at home. I start today. Bring food for you to eat, si?” she said.

  “Si,” he said, smiling. He’d learned to just go along with Elsa. She didn’t budge much in that smiling way of hers and usually ended up getting her way anyway.

  “Thank you,” he added.

  * * *

  Fourth week of May – Tuesday

  Do you realize this is our fourth week of me coming over here? That makes a month.”

  “Yep,” he
said, his hand running over her body as they lay there catching their breath. She was in her favorite position: on top. Would this ever get old? he wondered. It was quiet except for the sound of breathing and then a loud grumble from Mariah’s stomach. She laughed.

  “You’re hungry?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Want something to eat?” he asked.

  “You’ve got food?” she asked, her voice hopeful. She really wasn’t expecting anything other than sex and a little derby talk from him. That was all she thought he’d wanted to give.

  “I’ve got food, but you have to move,” he said, and smiled as she fell over onto the bed. He stood up and walked through his bedroom door.

  “You’re really going to feed me?” she asked his retreating back.

  “I thought I had,” he said. She could hear the smile in his voice.

  “Funny, the joker himself, folks,” she said to the empty bedroom, lifting herself out of the bed, following him to the kitchen.

  “Today was crazy at work. I didn’t have time to eat much,” she said, entering the kitchen. It was small, like the rest of his place, a narrow nook, counters on both sides, wall at the back, stove and refrigerator on her left, microwave sat on the counter, to the right. Nothing decorative anywhere. She made her way to his side, looking over the arm that held the door open.

  “I thought it was as empty as this apartment. Wow,” she said, looking at the contents over the top of his arm.

  “My apartment is not empty,” he said, giving her ass cheek a squeeze.

  “Ouch,” she said, standing on the tips of her toes to get a better look.

  “Wow, you really do have food,” she said, moving underneath his arm to stand in front of him. His hand went to her waist, and he moved closer to her, rubbing against her. She looked over her shoulder at him. “Cut it out,” she said, smiling, turning her attention to the fridge, where his shelves were stocked with small containers—those plastic ones sold in packs of two or four you could purchase at the grocery store. She picked up one from the shelves. It was neatly labeled “rice.” She lifted the top and it smelled heavenly—Spanish rice. She handed it to him.