"Well,
good listener, I'm afraid it's time to go home," said Brandy as
a new rush of customers entered the restaurant. She was amazed
to see that it was 11:23. The 9:00pm movie must have just let
out.
Ten
minutes later Brandy found herself pulling up outside her own
apartment building, Dan Martin still in the car. She didn't feel
tired, though, and the night was bright with the full moon. "Wow.
I must be so tired I spaced out," she said. "I didn't even ask
where you live."
"That's
okay. I'll walk home. But I'll see you to your front door first."
Brandy
laughed. "I'm perfectly safe. I'm a cop, for goodness' sake!"
"And
I'm a gentleman," he replied, getting out and coming around to
open her car door. No man had done that since a couple of extremely
shy boys in high school!
Deciding
she did enough roaring as a police officer, Brandy let him hand
her out of the car and walk her up the stairs. At her door, he
said, "I want to see you again."
"I'd
like that," she replied, and fought down a strong urge to invite
him in. This was not the swinging 70's, when safe sex meant not
banging your head on the headboard!
She
had wanted men before, but never so strongly -- and never,
ever, on a first acquaintance. She had always resisted, successfully.
Dan
Martin took her in his arms, and Brandy discovered how comfortable
it was to be held by someone only a few inches taller than she
was. Their lips met without either getting a crick in the neck.
It was as if they had kissed a thousand times before, knew each
other's texture and rhythm.
She
opened her mouth to his, found warmth and gentle teasing. He nibbled
at her lips, then stroked his tongue under her chin and down her
throat. It felt both weird and wonderful. She tilted her head,
let him caress her neck.
Although
they were standing, she practically lay in his arms. How strong
he was, never a quiver of his muscles under her weight. She felt
secure, protected, and eager. Finally, she knew what she had preserved
her virginity for!
But
even as Brandy sought to find Martin's mouth again with hers,
he let her go. "I'm sorry!" he gasped, breaking the spell. "Please
-- forgive me."
"There's
nothing to forgive," Brandy said, caught between confusion at
his sudden change and the lingering desire he had evoked in her.
"Why don't you come in?"
"Not
tonight," he said, too hastily. "Please -- go inside, Brandy.
You're too intoxicating by half."
It
was not until the next morning that she realized she could not
remember telling him her nickname. She had introduced herself
as "Officer Mather." He would have seen "Brenda Mather" on the
nameplate on her desk. But she hadn't misheard that remark about
intoxication.