“I thought you wanted me?”
“One…two…” Please let him kiss me again…
She didn’t want to follow through with her threat; but knew it was what she was supposed to do. She liked the tension, the frantic need amplified by her nervousness. Wanting to yell, but wanting his kisses more. Dancing on that fine line thrilled.
He didn’t listen. He pulled her between his legs, her chest even with his eyes, and nestled his face in between her breasts. She put her hands on his shoulders and shoved. His hands held fast to her hips, unyielding, and the muscles in his forearms flexed. He tongued the sweaty crevice between her breasts and ran his open calloused hands up her ribs, catching her under the arms.
It’d been so long since she had felt that rush. The anticipation.
“I’ve watched you look at me. I can see it in your face when you think I’m not looking.” He leaned forward, raising himself in the chair, and ran his tongue up the side of her neck to the crook of her ear.
She moaned and hung her head back.
With a soft, knowing chuckle, he stood up and caught his hands behind her head. The nylon cape rustled between them and a car went by. He let go. She stood there weak-kneed, eyes closed, wanting to savor the feeling.
Sounds of ripping Velcro echoed over the radio, then the brick scraped and the lock clicked. The blinds clattered as they came down.
Nuts. She was nuts.
But she had been watching him. Stealing covert glances under her eyelashes. How did he know it’d been so long since she felt yearning? It snuck up on her, the loss of her desire. The business, the kids, never-ending housework. Her mind never slowed down enough to just enjoy things anymore and the stress of everyday living took its chunk of flesh in the price of her libido. At one point she couldn’t dredge up a memory of the last time she even felt like having sex.
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