“I think this is the first time you’ve asked,” I tease, enjoying the way her heat radiates against me.
“Well, if it takes this long to get an answer, I may just surprise attack you when I need one. You know my impulse control is bad.”
A laugh bubbles out of me, but I nod, leaning in and kissing her. It’s awkward because now she’s taller, and I try to force her to sit on my lap but she’s resisting, so I let my hands trail around her waistband and lettwo fingers slip in to caress the silky smooth skin of her hips. She gasps into my mouth as I try to squeeze my hand in further. The waistband is much tighter than I thought. “Are you okay with this?” I ask as I feel the curve of her cheek at my fingertips.
She groans as I use the shelf of an ass she has as leverage to maneuver her. “Yeah, I-I like having your hands on me.”
I snort. “Angel, just wait until you’re ready for more, because this is only the beginning.”
She swallows audibly, the loud gulp hilarious in the moment, but neither of us laughs. I’m thrumming with need.
I haven’t had a makeout session in years.
My fingers dig into her skin as I bring her closer, and accidentally make our noses bump. She giggles, rubbing hers softly before she kisses me. This time is less frantic, still needy, but it’s slow. She’s taking her time. She’s pulling every slow kiss out of me that she can, her arms surrounding my face so there’s no way of being able to get out of her hold, not that I would want to.
But she invades every sense.
Touch, taste, hearing, sight, smell.
Everything around me is hers. There’s nothing else on my mind as she settles into my lap, the weight of her suddenly there but not. I love the pressure of her.
The desperate wiggles and whines.
Everything reminds me that this is exactly what I dreamed of all those years in college, and the thought alone makes me smile into the kiss. I lick the seam of her lips, desperate for another taste as she starts to grind into my lap. Her lips part hesitantly, letting me further the kiss. My hands sink further into her pants, and the globes of her ass, soft and firm against my hands, have me scrabbling for purchase, looking for a hold to keep her here with me.
She shuffles up as best as she can. There’s not much more room unless this couch would lay us out. It won’t; it’s not that high-tech, nor can it read my mind when I want it to do things. This is as close as we can get for now… until she asks for more.
And she has to ask.
I’m not pushing her into anything she isn’t ready for.
She pulls back slightly, looking at my knee that’s elevated and then at the kitchen. She sighs, more forlornly than I want to hear.
“What’s wrong?”
“I need to get home soon. It’s getting dark.”
Loneliness pangs in my chest, tightening my lungs in a dark and twisty way. “Do you want to go home?” I ask.
She turns back to me, green eyes still molten, still shifting with the emotions swirling inside of her. “No.”
I lean in to whisper in her ear, “Stay.” She keenscloser, whining. “We’ll just sleep; it's not like I can dazzle you with this knee right now. Olivia would kill me.”
She nods.
“Don’t you want your privacy?”
I shake my head. “I haven’t slept well since Toronto. Sleep with me.”
Her cheeks darken. “I don’t have clothes.”
I shrug. “What a coincidence! I do.” I nudge her off of me. “Let's get you ready for a sleepover.” Shifting my weight, I brace myself to get up and limp over to my room.
“I should just text Brynn to let her know I’ll be staying over. Give me a second,” she says, jumping up to the door. She opens and pulls a bag in that I didn’t see when I let her in before. I’m uncomfortably wet, and now I can’t do either, analog or vibrator, which is fine. To be honest, I’d rather have a beautiful woman in my bed curled up with me instead of being alone with my thoughts about how I ruined a game.
Which I didn’t.
“What was the end score?” I ask. She said we won, but…
