Tatiana and Alexander: A Novel(99)

Alexander laughed. "You don't have thirty zlotys!"

"But you do. Come on."

"No. Maybe tomorrow. Tonight I'm exhausted."

Nothing inside Alexander lifted when he was alone. When he was in the midst of battle, when he was commanding the tank, or waiting to attack, or killing other human beings, he could will his heart to forget.

He wet a towel in a bucket of water and lay down on his makeshift bed, covering his head and face with the sopping cotton. There, there. The cold water ran down his neck, his cheeks, his scalp. His eyes were closed. There, there.

"Shura, lie down, right here on the blanket."

Alexander obeys gladly. It is a warm, sunny, quiet afternoon. He has been chopping wood, and she has been reading. He wants to go for a swim.

"All that wood chopping, has it tired you out?"

"No, I'm all right."

"Are you a little tired?"

He doesn't know what answer she wants. "Uh--yes. I'm a little tired."

Smiling, Tatiana plops down on top of him and pins his arms above his head. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

Her scent meanders into his insides. Alexander fights the impulse to kiss her collarbone. "OK, now what?" he says.

"Now you have to try to get away."

"How far do I have to get?" Alexander asks, flipping her on the blanket and rising to his feet.

She shakes her head. "I wasn't ready. Get back here." She is trying not to smile. Failing.

He obeys gladly.

She pins his arms--her fingers unable to circle the very wrists she is so judiciously attempting to pin--back under his head. Her scent weakens Alexander's senses. He is aroused by her spirited fearless playful struggle with him, by her jumping on his back, pulling him down on the ground, by her attempts to wrestle with him, by her wild antics in the water--her shy, erotic woman-child self is an endless aphrodisiac to him, like ambrosia.

"Are you ready yet?" he asks, gazing at her determined face as she thinks of the best way to keep him in place. She moves his wrists close together and under his head. "That's good," he says. "What else?"

"I'm thinking." Tatiana's legs squeeze his ribs. She takes a deep breath. "Ready?"

Before she can finish talking, Alexander flips her over. This time he does not stand up.

Sitting up, she asks plaintively, "What am I doing wrong? Why can't I hold you in place?"

He lays her down on the blanket. "Could it be because you are one and a half meters and forty-five kilos, and I'm a meter ninety and ninety kilos?" He places his large, dark, messy hand on her alabaster throat.

Moving away, she says stubbornly, "No. First of all, I'm a meter fifty-seven, so there. And secondly, I should be able to--physics demands that I can--put enough weight on you in the right place to immobilize you."

Alexander is trying hard to remain serious. Straddling her, he pins her wrists above her head. And smiles. "Am I allowed to kiss you during this game?"

"Absolutely not," Tatiana declares.

"Hmm," he says. He stares down at her face. He really wants to kiss her. Bending his head--

"Shura, that's not part of the game."

"I don't care," he says, kissing her. "I'm making up the rules as I go."

"Like you do at poker, right?"

"Don't start with the poker thing."

She tries not to laugh. "Are you ready?" Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

He is looking down at her. "I'm ready."

She tries to get away but she can't move. Her ribs are between his knees. Her legs flail behind him, actually rising high enough to hit him on the back. Her head is bobbing from side to side as she tries to lift her torso and disentangle her wrists. "Wait," she pants. "I think I got it."

"I tell you what," says Alexander. "I'll hold your wrists with just one hand; will that help?" With his right hand he squeezes her wrists together above her head.

"Ready?"

He laughs. "Yes, babe." He is trying to catch her eye, but she won't have any of it. Alexander knows once their eyes meet, that will be the end for this portion of the game. Tatiana knows the look in his eyes so well, as soon as she sees it, she moans a little, even while she is still fighting with him. Especially if she is still fighting with him.

Her legs are still flailing. She can't even free her wrists. With his roaming hand, Alexander caresses her thigh under her dress.

"That's not allowed," she pants, struggling against him.

"Not allowed?" His hand becomes more insistent.

"No. I do not allow that."

"All right, tadpole, come on," says Alexander, kissing her lips, her freckles, her eyes. "Show me what you got."

Tatiana turns her cheek to him. "I think I know what I'm doing wrong," she says. "Let's try it again."

His hand tightens around her wrists. "Go ahead."

Nearly inaudibly she moans. But Alexander hears.

"Well, you have to let go of me," whispers Tatiana.

"I thought you knew what you were doing wrong."

"I do. But you have to let go of me and lie down."