Page 19 of Strum Me

“Yes. I want to go home. With you. Right now.”

And she takes my hand and leads me out the door and into a future that is changed forever because of this moment.

***

“Are you ready?” I ask her, but somehow it feels more like me reassuring myself than her.

I’m sitting on the side of her bed, suit jacket discarded during that first frantic kiss when we arrived home. Shoes are kicked off and my shirt is half unbuttoned.

She, however, is still in her heels and her dress, that goddamn cock-hardening, stuff-of-my-sex-dreams dress, hugging every inch of her curvy body. The low V-neck teases me with a hint of that deep, deep valley between her breasts that I want to suffocate myself in. She walks over to me, kicking her heels off and pushing herself between my legs, spreading my knees apart. Somewhere in the ten-minute ride home back to her car, the power shifted, and now she controls everything. And I’m hers.

Her hands are on my shoulders, her hair falling over us. It reminds me of the hundreds of times we’ve rolled around in the grass, on the bed, play wrestling and tickling each other, her mane a cascade of curls hiding us from the world. In the back of my mind, I wonder how I had restrained myself from kissing her. Because nothing could possibly stop me now.

She must have the same thought because her mouth is suddenly on mine. Already it feels like the most natural action in the world—as if nothing else makes sense unless we’re breathing each other’s air.

Just as I wonder how much longer I can kiss her before needing breath, she pushes on my chest and steps back from the bed. I grab her hand, and she shakes me off, her eyes locked on mine, telling me not to worry, she’s not going anywhere.

She reaches around her back and I hear the metallic sound of a zipper sliding down its track. She starts to wriggle and pull on the front of her dress. Reluctantly it grabs onto every curve of her body, not wanting to leave her, and I don’t blame it. But soon, she’s standing here, in only a soft pink lace G-string and dangling gold earrings, and there’s really only one thing left to do.

“I love you, Butter,” I whisper to her and pull her onto the bed.