“Oh. I’m not sure Ishould—”
“You going somewhere?” I sent a smile her way and grabbed the steaks from thefridge.
“Guess not. Not like I’m driving anyway.” She paused. “Mind if I turn on somelights?”
“Oh, shit.” My belly was tight with embarrassment. I should know these things. And after everything I’d done to prepare for this dinner, turning on lights was a freaking no brainer. “Here.” I flipped a switch that hadn’t been on in years and listened to the unfamiliar electric hum above myhead.
“What can I do tohelp?”
“Want to make a salad?” I indicated the fridge. “Help yourself to whatever you think would be good.” I’d ordered every crazy-named lettuce from the store, so there had to be something sheliked.
“Sure.”
She hummed, grabbed things and washed them, opened a couple cupboards and found the salad bowl, then tossed it all together. My insides finally calmed as we worked alongside each other. This wasgood.
After a lifetime of living life on-line, I could apparently do this in person thing justfine.
When I went out back to grill the meat, she followed with our glasses, and something about the partnership of the whole thing squeezed at my chest.This is what it feels like to havesomeone.
But having someone is dangerous when your whole life’s alie.
That little voice in my head chose that moment to screw things up for me. It was right, of course.Rational.
But nothing about my feelings for this woman were rational. The smell of her was my crack. I wanted to bend down, rub my face in her neck, and suck her in. I wanted to push her against the side of the house and feel the rest of her body. Was she big or small? What would her curves feel like under myhands?
Christ, I was getting hard just thinking about it. Not a surprise, considering the fantasies I’d played in my head all week. My hands on her—flesh like mine, only softer, I guessed, with more give under myfingers.
Jesus, Hubler. Keep it in yourpants.
I flipped the steaks, shut the grill off and put the top down to let the meat rest before backing up a step. She was a couple feet away on my right, probably leaning against the railing, staring out at the dark. I set down the tongs and took a step towardher.
“Youokay?”
“Yeah.” Everything in me settled.This is good. I’m doing it right.“I can’t tell you the last time I didthis.”
“This?”
“Spent time outside, other than with you the other night. And canvassing. Recess, too I guess. I live in an apartment downtown, so I don’t really see much of thewoods.”
“You likeit?”
“Yeah. Feels good.” Her body shifted closer to mine and everything in me tightened up. Some animal part of me too long ignored reared its ugly head, telling me to touch her, to take her. I just hoped she wanted this as much as Idid.
My hand went out, landed on her waist, and like we’d practiced it, she slid into myarms.
“Is thisgood?”
“Yeah.”
Where do you begin when it’s the first timearound?
I wanted to touch her and taste her, to squeeze, pinch, and suck her into my lungs, to consume her, but also to prove that this wasn’t virtual. She washere. I forced it all down, pushed the animal, with its teeth and cock and tongue, back into its cage, and made my hands take thelead.
One wrapped around her hair—curly and thick. Soft, but strong. Like her. Fingers entwined, pulling back, just a little. Not enough to scare her, but enough to drag her face up where I needed it. My other hand reached out to explore: thumb to her forehead—sharp at the brows, smooth, and high.This is real.My fingers traced around her ear, stroked down to her neck, which I had to lean in tosniff.
And, goddamn. Ambrosia. “I want to kiss youagain.”
“Do it.” It sounded almost like achallenge.
