More Than You Can Chew

Saturday 3:17 p.m. Wind 'n' Sea Beach, San Diego Clouds scream across the sky, turning the sun on and off like a lightbulb. Yellow. Gray. Yellow. Gray. Turquoise ocean. Waves of melted glass capture the silhouette of a dolphin bodysurfing. Sitting in Zack's car, watching the world through the windshield. Be cool. Enjoy the view. Zack touches my hand and releases the hounds. Hormones. Only the "hors" aren't "moaning." And they aren't just raging. They're breaking out of blood cells. Crashing through arterial walls. Bouncing off bone. My body a prison, with a riot going on inside. My mind the warden, trying to ignore the outbreak and assure the media that everything is under control. But Zack is a top investigator. He slides his hands up the back of my T-shirt. Finds the evidence he's looking for. "Are you cold?" he says. "I'll warm you up." He pulls me across the seat. One hand under my arm and hot like a branding iron on my ribs. Just below. The other hand he puts under the sweaty backs of my knees. His fingers feel like ice. Then Zack lifts me, like I weigh nothing, so I'm sitting sideways on his lap. It's a great position to watch the beautiful ocean ripple and surge and stroke the sand. Zack's tongue and words drift in and out of my ear: "You're perfect. You know that? I love you. You know that?" I don't know what to say. Don't want to say anything. Just want to be Said to. Done to. "I think we should," he says. "Should what?" I whisper. A surfer with fuzzy cigar dreadlocks walks by and pounds his fist on the hood of the car and yells, "GET A ROOM!" I almost go through the sunroof. He sees that he's scared me and his hands fly up in that Stop! Don't jump! pose, which causes him to drop his surfboard on the corner of the car. He picks up the board and searches it for dings. Zack is looking at him through the windshield like the guy is an idiot. The surfer sees the look in Zack's eyes and polishes the car where the board hit it. He gives us a Cheshire grin and a big thumbs-up. He turns, swings the tail of his board into the grill of the car, and charges down the beach and into the surf. I thought Zack would be mad. He loves his car just had it painted. Zack says, laughing, "I think Einstein is right. We should get a room." He grabs me and kisses me. Hard. Runs his tongue along my teeth like you run a stick along a fence. Probes the back of my mouth. Finds my molars and sends an electric shock through me like he's stuck a fork in my filling. The car is a greenhouse, all windows, and the sun pours in. Sweat on the glass and on the back of my neck and in the corners of Zack's eyes. Things sprouting with the heat. Fingers and tongues and nipples and I'm sitting right on top of that something that desperately wants to break through the fly of Zack's jeans. I-love-you's rain down my neck. "You're my angel; I love you here," he says, and pushes three fingertips into the skin underneath my shoulder blade wings. "You're my dolphin; I love you here," and he runs the heel of his hand along the inside of my thigh. "I really love you here," and he places his whole hand over the left side of my chest. "You love my heart or my boob?" "Both." I want to open up his cheTokio, Marnelle is the author of 'More Than You Can Chew' with ISBN 9780887766398 and ISBN 0887766390.