I don’t know why I want to touch him so much.
He’s still watching me, and I can feel rather than see his gaze go hot. Maybe he can sense what I’m thinking. Or maybe his mind is simply straying in the same direction as mine.
“I don’t know, Micah,” I say at last, shifting in my lawn chair.
“I know you don’t. I get it. I’m not gonna make a move on you. If you wanna do somethin’, then you’re gonna have to make it happen.”
I check his face, and what I see there relaxes me. He’s part understanding, part turned on, and part dryly amused.
He’s not crushed or wounded by my hesitance. He’s not in love with me. He’s not hoping to make a lifetime thing out of our random connection.
There’s no pressure here at all.
He wants to fuck me, but he understands why it might not happen.
So that makes it safe for me to want to fuck him.
I get up. Stand above the bench where he’s sitting. Meet his eyes when he gazes up at me.
“This is just because I want to,” I say. “It’s not a sign that everything is all right. I still don’t know what I’m going to decide in the morning.”
“Understood,” he says thickly as I climb into his lap, straddling his hips until I’m in a reasonably comfortable position.
These aren’t ideal conditions for this position, but I need to be on top so we do no more damage to his injury.
Both his hands curve around my ass over the fabric of the old dress I’m still wearing. It’s loose and mostly shapeless, and I’m completely naked beneath it.
“I’m never gonna say no to fuckin’ you, baby.” He adjusts his lower body, slouching slightly so our groins are better aligned. “It can mean nothin’, and I’ll still wanna do it. You can fuckin’ hate me, and I’ll still say climb on board.”
His wording surprises me into a helpless giggle. Micah takes advantage of my distraction to pull me down into a kiss.
I respond immediately, softening against him as our lips and tongues move together. He strokes my ass and my back and leans forward to take one breast in his hand, tweaking the nipple as his tongue thrusts deeper.
It doesn’t take long to arouse me with that particular combination of sensations. Soon I’m moaning into the kiss and rocking my pelvis against the bulge at the front of his boxers.
He never put his trousers back on and has been wearing boxers and a T-shirt all afternoon.
Just as well. It’s easier to feel him, touch him. Eventually I slide one hand down and tuck it beneath his waistband so I can find and squeeze his hard cock.
He grunts and jerks up into my hand.
The small gesture thrills me. I squeeze him again.
He jerks his hips up in the same helpless reflex.
“Fuck, baby,” he rasps against my mouth. “You keep doin’ that, and I’m gonna come before we even get started.”
“Really?” I pull back enough to smile down at him in pleased satisfaction.
“Yes, really. You should know by now that I got no control when it comes to you.” As he speaks, he pulls my dress off over my head and drops it on the bench beside us. His eyes crawl over my naked body before they return to my face. “Shit, what did I ever do to deserve this?”
“Well, you didn’t tell me the whole truth, that’s for sure.” Despite the remonstrance in the words, my tone is mild and amused. “If I could think of some way to punish you, I would.”
He chuckles. “If you’re naked while I get my punishment, I’ll take it whatever it is.”
I’ve never met a man who can make me laugh the way he does. It never occurred to me to even want that in a man before. But now I can’t even imagine fucking without laughter being a part of it.
Has this man changed me?
