I lean over and hit him on the shoulder. “We have sex.”Duh.
“Um, Charlie,have you lost your mind?” He pauses searching my face. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but sex isn’t going to fix our problem.”
“It’s the perfect solution. We already know we’re compatible as friends. We’ll do it one time and see if we’re compatibleelsewhere.” I look at his bed in case he’s having a dumb moment and needs extra help.
Cyrus takes a minute, and I give him the time because Iknow he likes to form his thoughts. If you rush him into an answer, he’s more likely to say no.And he thinks I don’t know anything about him. Silly man.
This is the only way to know if we have what it takes to have a well-rounded relationship. He’ll come to see my superior problem solving. I have to wait him out.
He strokes the stubble on his chin and I’ve won before he even opens his mouth.“One time? To see if it works?”
“Yes.”
“And if it doesn’t?” He strokes his chin again.
I shrug. “If it doesn’t then we forget it ever happened and go back to being friends.”
I’m not worried about this not working. So not worried about it the thought of what might happen with Cyrus already has me excited. I’ve only had about two billion fantasies involving him and me over the last few years.If he can be sexy while almost turning me down, the man has this one in the bag.
“No strings attached?”
Now the waiting is getting annoying. “Yes, no strings attached. We’re like friends with benefits, but only the one benefit, this one time.”
The concern on his face slips turning into a sly grin. “Unless I rock your world. Then we do this thing full time?”
Match, set, score, or whatever theyhell they say in tennis. I’ve always been a winter sports girl. I’ve got him. “Yup.”
“When are we going to do it? Should we schedule it?”
When Cyrus tries to schedule sex like a Type A person on crack, his anxiety is through the roof. He is never one to plan too far in the future.
Plus, like hell will I schedule a sexy date with Cyrus. We’d both back out. This is happening right now.
“No,we’re going to do it right now.” Starting at the hem, I jerk my long-sleeve shirt over my head and toss it on the floor. If I don’t do it quickly there’s a real chance I’ll get nervous and never do it.
Cyrus’ eyes widen to the point I worry they could fall out. Can that happen to a non-cartoon character? He gulps, staring at my exposed chest and the plain white bra I put on this morning.
Hey,had I known the day would turn out this way, I would have put more thought into my underwear. I bite my lips and wait, resisting the urge to cover myself. I am so not one of the models he’s used to dating. I catch sight of my bicep and cringe. Maybe the reporter was right and I’m too muscular. What if Cyrus doesn’t like muscles on women?
“You sure about this?” he asks.
Damn, a girl’s self-confidencecould really take a hit in a moment like this, but by happy accident my gaze falls and I catch sight of the large bulge growing beneath his athletic pants. My body is toned and fit. I have more muscles in my arms and especially my legs than a regular woman. Most people would say it wasn’t something to have self-confidence issues about — many women would kill to have my body. But the truthof it is, a lot of men like their women to be more feminine. At least from what I’ve experienced. No man wants to know you can bench press him. That reporter got way too into my head.
“Yes, I’m sure. Are you going to leave me sitting here?”
It’s all the encouragement he needs, even if it took him long enough.
Once I give the final okay, Cyrus makes up for lost time. He hooks an arm around mywaist and his lips find mine, touching and tasting. His kiss is strong and harder than I imagined. Our first kiss is fast and full of passion. As if we’ve both been waiting years for this exact moment… because we have. I’m distracted by the feel of his skin against mine — his lips and the way the shape of his mouth fits against my own so perfectly. With my attention elsewhere, the next time I openmy eyes I’m looking up at the ceiling. Somehow Cyrus maneuvered me underneath him and he looms overhead.
His mouth opens as if a question lingers on his lips. I narrow my eyes and say, “I swear to God, Cyrus, if you ask me one more time if I’m sure I will kill you.”
He chuckles. “I’ve waited so long for this I want to make sure I’m not imagining it.”
My breath catches in my throat. “You’renot imagining this.” I do my best to reassure him, but I understand this fear. It’s one I’m having myself. What if this is another dream and I wake up tomorrow morning with nothing but continued sexual frustration? Before the negative thought is allowed to steal the mood, I tamp that shit down and tell myself it doesn’t matter. Real or not, I’m not letting anything stand in my way. This will be thebest damn dream sex ever.
Reaching between us, I squeeze his now rock-hard dick, ready for so much more Cyrus. I need him to hurry up and take my pants off as well.
Not in the same rush I am, Cyrus nuzzles his head against my neck and bites at the area between my neck and shoulder. His teeth score against my skin to the point it’s almost painful, but there’s no way I’ll stop him. His head continuesto dip down my body. He somehow manages to push my bra high up on my chest until am forced to reach around and unclasp it myself. The material gets tangled up in my arms and I give up fidgeting to get it off.
