“Describe it, Wordsmith. What do I smell like?”
I groan into her skin, the sound reverberating. “You smell like you’re mine.”
She sits back on her heels, looking into my eyes. “Am I yours?”
Her beautiful eyes, her heart-shaped face, her sun-dappled freckles, they undo me. This woman,this woman.
“We joke that I came here for the cake, right?”
She nods, waiting.
“Paisley.” My fingers slip through her hair, curling around the back of her neck. Here we go. “You are the cake. I’m here for you. I’m here for your hard times, and I’m here for you as you grow as a person and I don’t know about you, but all this fake dating stopped feeling fake as soon as we landed.”
A smile that could rival the midday sun over the ocean outside our window lands on Paisley’s face. “Klein,” she breathes my name. “I wish there was a way to open up my mind and let you read my thoughts over the past week. You’d see just how perfectly you crept into my heart.” Paisley leans forward, placing a kiss on my forehead. “I like your storyteller mind, your vivid imagination, the way you see a situation and poke through it instead of taking it on its face.” Her lips move lower, to my chest, where she places a kiss on the center of the space. “Your heart is so big, Klein, and so interested in me. In being in my corner. It hardly seems like it’s been enough time, but I’ve never felt somebody’s investment in me the way I feel yours.” She rises, her lips hovering over mine. “And this mouth.” She dives in, kissing me briefly, leaving me begging for more. “Don’t even get me started on this mouth. You say big, lovely things, and you make me feel even bigger and lovelier.”
I push forward, capturing her lips with a searing kiss. “This mouth?” I ask, teasingly nipping at her lower lip.
“Yes,” she whimpers.
In one swift motion I flip us over, so she’s straddling me.
Paisley blinks in surprise, recovering, and then she’s reaching for my shorts, unbuttoning them and pulling me out. She rears up onto her knees, lifting my oversized shirt from her body, and I shove aside her underwear. Positioning me at her entrance, she sinks down.
“Ahh,” she breathes, like it’s a relief to be where she is.
For me, it is not only a relief, it is my whole world. What does it mean, this barrage of feelings? Is this the bigL word, the feeling I’m not supposed to feel yet, because it hasn’t been long enough? Long enough according to whom? Two weeks ago, I read an article about a man who risked his life to save a stranger, and for the rest of the day I thought about how a person must have a basic love for humanity to do something like that.
If that’s true, why can’t I already love Paisley? Beinlove with her? She’s no stranger, and I’m not only referring to the fact I’m inside her body right now. Our lovemaking does not require her to enter me, and yet, she is there, infiltrating me from the center of my chest all the way to my extremities. Shades of Paisley, throughout.
“Ace,” I say, and she nods.
“I know, Klein,” she nods, lifting her body. “I know.” Sinking. “Not yet, okay?” Hips rolling. Soft moaning.
“Roll over with me,” I instruct, and she lies down on my chest, her hair splaying out over my face.
We spin, until she’s on her back. Hooking her legs over my shoulders, I drive inside, gripping her hips and picking up the pace. Her head tips back, mouth open.
“My Paisley,” I say, watching her enjoy what I’m doing.
“My Klein,” she responds, and my heart bursts like a confetti cannon. Are we our own people? Of course. But do we belong to each other? Absolutely.
Using my thumb, I rub tight circles around the middle of her. Eyes on me, she shatters silently. Her release prompts my own, and I fall down onto her. Her nails lightly scratch over my back as I empty.
“Forgot,” I huff. “A condom.” Everything happened so suddenly. I hadn’t even thought about it.
“Don’t worry,” Paisley croons, her hands making theirway up into my hair. “I’m on birth control. Plus, you know, we’re together now, so...”
I grin against the T-shirt on her body that I never want back. “Boyfriend perk?”
Her soft laugh filters down over me. “Yes.”
I know I should get up, take us both to the bathroom to get clean, but everything about Paisley is so warm and inviting, I want to stay here another minute.
“About, um,” Paisley falters. My head lifts so I can look at her. “My feelings for you are very strong. But this week is a lot on me, and the way I feel about you should have its own time. Its own place. I don’t want to share big words with other feelings. Does that make sense?”
I press a kiss to the first spot I can reach, which happens to be her heart. “Total.”
Sliding out of her, I get off the bed and offer her a hand. “I don’t know about you, but I’d like a shower. Care to join me?”
