Page 100 of Kiwi Sin

This was why Mount Zion wanted you to cover up, because surely, this was sin. This was fire, and it burned. His thumb against my skin, the barest touch, as if all my nerves had concentrated there. His tongue moving in my mouth, the strength of his hand around my head, then the brush of his sandpaper cheek against mine. It was so alien, so different from being kissed by my sisters, by my mum, and my whole body was trembling.

Priya’s voice, then, saying, “Oh.” The sound of the caravan door banging shut. Gabriel’s hand left my breast, but he didn’t stop holding me.

I turned my head. It was hard to do.

I’d never drunk a glass of alcohol. I’d never taken any drugs, but this must be how it would feel, like your blood had been replaced by something hotter and thicker. Like time had slowed down, and you were molten.

Priya said, “Sorry. I’ll go …”

I expected Gabriel to say, “I was just going,” or something like that. Instead, he said, “Yeh. You’d better.”

She backed out and the door banged shut again, and I said,“Gabriel.”

“What?” He had his hand—not on my breast, but almost. The tips of his fingers, now, just inside my neckline, and it was hard to focus on anything else. He said, “All I want to do is to keep doing this, and to hear you make those noises again.”

“No. We shouldn’t.” It wasn’t the strongest protest I’d ever made, though.

His hand stilled, and I thought,Wait. We should.He said, “You’re right,” and dropped his hand. “You feel too good, that’s all.”

“To me, too,” I said. “Oh, and—I have something I want to share with you. I’m scared to share it, but … I want to, too.”

“If it’s a video of you doing some porn thing,” he said, “it’s going to be too much to take. I may explode.” He was Gabriel again, because he was smiling, and then we were both laughing, until our foreheads were pressed together and our arms were around each other and we were kissing again.

“It’s almost that,” I said, when I could manage it.

He stilled. “Seriously?”

“No! Well … hang on. Let me get it.” I got up off his lap—it wasn’t easy, because it felt so good there—and picked up my backpack from its hook, then fished out the stapled sheets of paper. After that, I stood there like an idiot, clutching them to my chest, thinking,Can I really do this?

He said, “I’m trying to think what this is, and I can’t. So I’m just going to say—I love you, and I want to marry you, and whatever it is—your application for a school or a job or whatever—you can show me. I’m not your family. I’m going to love you anyway.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding and sat down again. Not in his lap, because if we started up again, I was afraid weweregoing to have relations. Maybe he’d be able to stop. I wasn’t sure I could. So I sat beside him, and then I took a deep breath and handed over the papers.

* * *

Gabriel

Well,thiswasn’t what I’d expected. But then, kissing and touching Oriana like that had already been a whole new world.

I said, “Oh.”

The top batch of papers was called,Getting Off: 5 Types of Orgasms and How to Get There.

The smaller headlines below said,

Your Clit and You.

The Elusive Vaginal Orgasm.

And finally,What About the Anal Orgasm?

I turned to the second page. Blended orgasms. Erogenous zone orgasms. Who knew?

Oriana, apparently, now. Which meant I’d better learn.

She said, “I know it seems a little … sinful. And selfish, that I’m demanding something, when relations are meant to be more … for men. Laila said, though …” She trailed off.

I said, “Laila? Your boss? She gave you these?”