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“If that’s the only reason you came over here, you
can leave. Put out that fucking joint and get out. Now.” Chris looked at
me with a doubtful expression on his face, eyebrows raised slightly, and
yawned.
I tried again. “Get OUT.” He looked down at his fingers, picking at them
carelessly. “B, you intrigue me.” Sarcasm fell heavily in his voice. God,
I was so fed up. “Cmon, Chris,” I said, voice hard.
“You know you wanna,” he teased, smiling down at his hands. He tapped his
joint out. “It’s not a matter of want. I just can’t. Get it?” I stood,
looked at him until he met my gaze. He opened his mouth, as if to say
something. Instead, he pivoted and walked to the door. I watched him
fumble with the locks until I couldn’t stand it any longer. “Bye, Chris,”
I said, unlocking the door and ushering him out of my tiny apartment.
“Bea.”
“What?”
He shifted his weight. “I don’t want to leave like this.” “Why the hell
not?” I asked, eyes cold.
“You know why,” was all he could manage. He looked at me intently, his
dark brows furrowing slightly. “You had your chance, Chris. Now get the
hell out of my apartment.” He just stood there in the darkened corridor.
“What do you want, Chris?” I asked finally. He leaned towards me, and my
breath caught in my chest.
“You.” I tilted my chin up in disbelief, looking into his brilliant blue
eyes. “What do you want?” he asked, softly, close to me. My hands rose
from my sides and I closed the gap between us in a single step.
He looked at me again, and I knew. He bent towards me, and I met his
mouth. His lips engulfed mine.
“You sure?” he said. I nodded, slowly, dreamlike, and dared to place my
palm on his chest. He put both hands on my hips, carefully, as if not to
spook me. Chris kissed me again, moving one hand beneath my shirt. It was
icy against my skin, and I inhaled sharply.
Chris pulled away, worried. “Just say no if you want me to stop, Bea.” I
moved my hands to his shoulders, pulling on them lightly as I kissed him.
His hands floated up and down my spine, a caress so soft it sent shivers
over my whole body. His tongue slid effortlessly, powerfully, into my
mouth. I pulled him closer, deeper into my apartment, running my hands up
his arms. They were hard beneath my palms. I moved my fingers down his
chest, to where the hem of his shirt met his belt buckle. Chris’s hands
left the small of my back, returning to hi own body, to pull his shirt
over his head. I fiercely undid his buckle, button, zipper, and the cloth
hissed to the floor.
The heat inside of me was pulsing, deep in my belly like a shot of vodka.
I breathed raggedly as Chris lifted my shirt, kissing my hip, navel,
abdomen, and between the rise of my breasts, still encased in a simple
bra. We made our way to my bedroom. Chris tripped on a pair of shoes,
falling with me onto the mattress on the floor. His kisses continued,
rougher, deeper, more passionate. His hand was behind me, unclasping the
fabric, releasing my warm flesh into his waiting grasp. He kneaded me, and
I kissed him harder than before, urging him to continue. His touch was
torture. I tugged my skirt off, letting the feathery fabric pool next to
me. He removed my final garment, and I quickly tugged off his boxers.
“Only fair,” I murmured. Chris smiled and played with my hair. His hands
lingered, up, meeting my moist flesh. His fingers stroked just around,
teasing me.
I pulled him closer, harder, spreading my legs apart. His fingers slid
easily inside me, and I kissed him harder. I arched up to him, and he
obliged, rocking gently on the bed. The fire burned hot, igniting my whole
body. Chris kissed me again. His kisses descended rippling the skin of my
neck, collarbones, breasts, stomach, and
“Chris,” I whispered. His tongue pressed and tunneled and scooped. The
fire was now an inferno. I arched upwards to something I could not meet
yet, yearning, pleading for more. Chris rose above me, kissing my mouth
deeply. He entered me, and I gasped. I moved with him as he pushed deeper.
He was above me; the fire burned and sparked and collapsed and shot
flames.
Chris flipped underneath me. I dug my hands into his back, his chest. He
said my name so loudly I was tempted to clamp my hand over his mouth. He
exploded. I exploded, shattering into a million chandelier pieces, red
hot. On fire. I lay on him, feeling his damp body beneath me. And exhaled.
“Ready for round two?” I asked. He grinned up at me, pulling me close. |
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