I stretched my hands over his back, admiring how every muscle trembled beneath my fingers, until I reached the pockets of his jeans, and slipped into one to look for that familiar wrapper. I brought it out in my fist and the rustle of the cellophane made Alexander let out a deep, pleased laugh; then he was faster and took the condom from my hand before I realized it. I kissed his neck—he was still motionless over me but his lips brushed my temple and ear, with a tense anxiety I couldn’t ignore.
“That’s enough of that,” I asked, tugging at his pants.
He didn’t obey right away (what else could be expected from a leader?), rather he found my urgency amusing, to the point that I felt a little self-conscious. I tried to do it myself, found enough energy and boldness to slip my fingers into th
