The Tao Of Sex Read Free Page B

think about what we could have—”
    “I’ll study with Tommy after practice,” he interrupted.
    What could she say to that except a tired old adage? “Slow and steady effort, Joey.”
    He hauled open the back door. “I really liked doing the drywall and plumbing and stuff with Dad. With you, too.” He paused long enough for Tracy to realize there was an underlying message there, but then he spun away and the screen door bounced shut behind him. She shifted sideways to watch out the window as he trudged to the bus stop.
    How she wished she understood her brother. Some days he seemed so mature, happy with football, focused on being a high-school senior. Then the next moment, he seemed lost, looking to her to provide an answer when she didn’t even know the question. What did he need? What was missing in his life?
    She didn’t know, and so she had no choice but to move on with her day. Painting and mopping were on the schedule. Wow. The glamorous life of a landlord. She flashed briefly on tenant 4C. Would he know what was going on with her brother? Did his Tantric religion offer answers to teenage boys, as well as sexual immortality?
    Of course not. But the idea had her smiling all the way to the paint store.

    WITH ONE FOOT, Tracy stomped on the mop-bucket squeezer. The water drained with a loud splash, then with a practiced whip slap, she obliterated more mud from the hallway. She’d finished painting in record time, and so now she had to do her bit as janitor. Her ancient Discman belted out her favorite mopping music, but nothing lifted her black mood this blustery day.
    Then she accidentally swiped across a pair of knock-off Nikes—attached to one tall Chinese tenant—and her heart abruptly started beating pitter-pat. Then she remembered his Tantric class, and her mood darkened in annoyance—at him, at herself, at the whole situation that made the only interesting man she knew a financial risk she couldn’t afford.
    “Ah, hell,” she muttered, unsure what she was cursing.
    “No worries, Miss Williams,” he said, his smile bringing his Asian charm to the fore. “My clothing has suffered far worse.” His eyes sparkled with part shyness, part devilry, and once again she was reminded why he’d become the object of her fantasies. Everything about him begged her to look deeper. What mysteries lay just beneath his very intriguing exterior?
    She yanked down her headphones. “I didn’t see you there.” She bit her lip then and tried not to get lost in his eyes. This was how it always went with him, even when she was prepared. He smiled and she lost all sense of who she was and what she wanted. Most days she simply smiled back. Occasionally she remembered rehearsed speeches. He was always polite, but she never got beyond the shock of wanting to be perfect for him, of feeling completely blindsided by his beauty even when she wasn’t.
    Today was no different except that this time her business side kicked in. Instead of little girl Tracy getting lost in his smile, businesswoman Tracy remembered that she had to sell this building. In eleven months, she needed two sets of tuition. So until Mike told her 4C did not have a criminal record, she couldn’t risk being friendly with him. Or making any promises about letting him stay.
    “I can’t let you stay here. Not if you’re teaching those classes.”
    His face dropped and she abruptly noticed that he looked tired. His skin was less golden, more wan. Backlit as he was by the afternoon sun, she could see that his shoulders were stooped and his head tilted slightly forward.
    “I have to teach those classes,” he said. “I cannot survive any other way.”
    She shook her head. “You can’t. I’ll have to evict you.” She bit her lip. “Please don’t make me do that.”
    Instead of answering, he started rooting through his scarred satchel. “I have something for you.” He pulled out a couple of pristine white pages. “It’s a list of tasks and their market