He poured some cheese dip into a bowl and put it in the microwave to
warm up. Then he grabbed another bowl and poured half the bag of chips inside
it. Carrying the beer and bowl of chips to the living room, he set it all on
the coffee table and went back for the cheese dip. The microwave dinged as soon
as he walked into the kitchen. Carefully, since the bowl was hot, he walked to
the living room once again.
She still hadn’t emerged from her bedroom. Not that it took him long to
prepare everything. Five minutes, if that.
What was taking her so long?
He should just take a seat and wait for her.
Except he found himself wandering down the hallway in search of her
bedroom. It didn’t take long to find. It was a small house.
Her bedroom door was open. She stood in front of her closet with her
back toward him in only a pair of pink sweatpants and a white bra.
He wasn’t sure if she was aware he stood in her doorway, but as a
gentleman, he should’ve turned around and waited for her in the living room.
But seeing her creamy, soft skin, the smooth curves of her body, the
exquisite picture before him, he found his feet moving forward instead of
backward.
The air crackled with intensity. Desire filled the room like heavy
smoke.
He stopped inches from her, yet didn’t touch her. He heard her inhale
deeply, indicating she knew he was there. But she didn’t turn around.
Raising his hand, he glided it as if he were caressing her from her
shoulder down her arm, yet he didn’t touch.
“God, you’re so beautiful. I want to touch you so badly.”
“You shouldn’t be in here.”
“I know. I didn’t know what was taking you so long.”
She stood rigid.
The last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable, but damn, he
was dying to touch her. To make her feel what he felt—charged with pleasure
waiting to be unleashed.
“I’m sorry. I’ll wait for you in the living room.”
His hand hovered near her shoulder, then he snatched it away and turned
around. He got three steps before she spoke.
“I said you shouldn’t be in here, not that I wanted you to leave.”
He turned around slowly.
She was facing him, her eyes dilated with the same intense pleasure he
felt flowing through his veins.
His jaw clenched, his hands aching to pull her into his arms.
“What do you want?” He took a step in her direction. “Because I want
you. I want to touch you until your body has memorized my touch.”
He didn’t know where those words came from, but they were true. He
wanted to claim her until she begged him never to leave.
Less than a week, and he wanted this woman with so much passion it
physically hurt to think he might never have her.
Her hands reached up and slid one strap down her arm. Then she reached
for the other side and slid that one down, too. Her bra hung on, barely.
“I want you to touch me.” She bit her lip before removing the bra completely.
He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t give her time to change her mind,
although her eyes said she wasn’t planning on it.
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her like it would be the last
kiss they ever shared.
(Copyright © 2020 Amanda Siegrist)
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