Kissing in Manhattan Read Online Free PDF

Jacob and Rachel’s nuptial bed.
    Jacob heard the chirp of pipes, the running of water. His wife, he knew, was up to something feminine. As he thought this, Jacob decided to get rid of the skunk.
    “Honey?” called Rachel. “What’re you doing?”
    Steam leaked from the crack under the bathroom door.
    “Nothing,” said Jacob.
    He removed his good leather shoe, put it on his left hand like a shield. With his right hand Jacob opened the window, slowly, just a few inches. He stuck his left hand outside.
    “Go away, skunk,” whispered Jacob, waving his shoe. “Hit the road.”
    The skunk looked at Jacob. It seemed terribly bored.
    “Fuck off,” hissed Jacob. “Scram.”
    He glared at the skunk. He waved his shoe carefully.
    “Shoo, now,” he said.
    Jacob kept waving his shoe. He didn’t want the skunk to fall to its death, necessarily. He just wanted it to move to a different part of the roof, to eavesdrop somewhere else. As it turned out, the skunk did neither of these things. Instead, it pulled a one-eighty and sprayed Jacob’s shoe.
    “Oh, shit.”
    Jacob pulled his hand out of the shoe, yanked himself back inside. He closed the window as quickly as he could, leaving his shoe outside. But it was too late.
    “Uh-oh,” said Rachel from the bathroom.
    “I’m sorry,” called Jacob.
    He stood up, plugged his nose. The stench was unbearable.
    “You’d better come in here,” said Jacob’s wife.
    I’ve ruined it, thought Jacob. I’ve ruined our honeymoon.
    “Come on,” said Rachel.
    She was standing, wrapped in thick white towels. One towel wrapped around her hair, turban style. The other was fixed over her breasts and came down to her thighs. There was a scab on her knee.
    “We’d better plug the door,” said Rachel. She took an extra towel from a shelf, laid it across the crack under the door.
    “I tried to get rid of the damn thing,” said Jacob. “It sprayed my shoe.”
    Rachel had been in the tub. She was wet beneath her towels.
    “I’m sorry,” said Jacob.
    “It’s all right,” said Rachel.
    The air was fogged. The tub was still full. Jacob looked at his woman, at the way she’d wrapped herself in towels. It was a manner in which women often wrapped themselves in towels, one for the hair, one for the body. It wasn’t original, but it was something men never did. Jacob liked it.
    “Um.” Jacob blushed. After all, under the towels was his wife.
    “He only sprayed my shoe,” said Jacob. “He didn’t get me.”
    Rachel giggled. She wrinkled her nose.
    “He got you,” she said.
    Jacob laughed. Rachel laughed too. They fell silent, watching each other.
    “Maybe you should get in the tub,” suggested Rachel.
    Jacob panicked. He’d heard about women who made love in bathtubs.
    “I don’t know about that,” he said.
    “You smell,” said Rachel. “Undress, and get in the tub.”
    Rachel smiled. Jacob took her smile to mean she wouldn’t get kinky. So he relaxed. He undressed slowly, letting her see him. He got in the tub.
    Rachel picked up Jacob’s clothes, threw them outside the door. She closed the door, knelt by the tub.
    “You’re . . . um.” Jacob was eye level with Rachel’s bosom. “Are you going to . . .”
    “I’m not getting in there with you,” said Rachel.
    “Oh, fine,” said Jacob quickly.
    “I’ve already had my bath.”
    “Exactly.”
    “I don’t take long baths.”
    “Yes. No problem.”
    Rachel laid her cheek on the side of the tub. She looked at Jacob’s body in the hot, clear water. She saw all of him.
    “Rachel,” said Jacob. He was embarrassed now, sitting in the tub, water to his neck. He felt like a boy.
    Some of Rachel’s hair fell from her towel, mingled with the water. She reached out, stroked Jacob’s neck.
    “I love your neck,” she said. “Your neck and your jaw.”
    Jacob let her touch his face. She was his wife.
    “I love you,” he said.
    Rachel sighed happily.
    “I do,” said Jacob.
    Rachel stopped rubbing Jacob’s