"The steps? Hell yeah." He kept on going. "But like this? Nah." His voice softened. "Just with you."
The first half of his claim, I entirely believed. But the second half? That it was only with me? Well, that seemed way too far-fetched. Still, I loved the sentiment and pressed myself tighter against him.
Step after step, I felt his muscles moving against my side, smooth and effortless as we neared the top of the stairway. Obviously, he hadn't been lying. He was no stranger to steps. In my mind, I could practically see him, running up and down some stadium bleachers, shirtless and covered in a thin sheen of sweat.
Over the past week, my mind had been filled with thoughts of him, and now, some of those thoughts were becoming reality – a wonderful reality that felt more like a dream.
At the top of the stairs, he said, "Which way?"
I lifted my hand and pointed toward the open doorway down the hall. "There."
He moved forward, and soon, we were entering my bedroom, which was arguably one of the best bedrooms in the whole place. It was spacious and inviting, with large windows and a set of double balcony doors that overlooked Lake Michigan.
The lights were off, but the curtains were open, leaving the room bathed in a wash of pale, welcoming moonlight. Wordlessly, Joel moved toward my double bed and gently placed me on the quilt that I'd been using as a bedspread, ever since my first winter alone.
I realized that I was no longer laughing. I couldn’t. Not anymore. I was too excited and breathless with anticipation. Desperately, I reached up with both arms and smiled when he lowered himself down next to me.
I turned toward him, and soon, we were kissing again. His lips were warm and wonderful, and I felt his hands caressing my back, and then move lower, skimming across the thin fabric of my shorts. His touch sent my pulse jumping all over again, and I wanted to be ten times closer.
I pressed my hips tighter against him, and felt the hardness of his arousal press against my stomach. If I weren't so lost in his kisses, I might've smiled. He wasn't the only one who was ready. I felt my own readiness inside me, slick and welcoming, wanting him with my body as much as with my heart.
Beyond eager, I reached between us with both hands and fumbled with the button of his jeans. But almost before I knew what was happening, his arms reached tighter around me, and he rolled us sideways until I was lying on my back with him on top of me.
My hands – so near to his pelvis just moments earlier, were now lying loose and empty on the soft fabric beside me. There was no way to reach that button now.
Damn it.
He lowered his head and nibbled at my earlobe. Into my ear, he gave a playful whisper, "Not so fast."
I was so excited, I could hardly speak. "I was fast?"
"Nah." His tongue grazed my earlobe. "But we're gonna take it slow anyway."
I didn't want to take it slow. I wanted him now, this instant. Breathlessly, I asked, "Why?"
"Because you're the sweetest thing I've ever seen. Which means…" His lips grazed my ear. "I'm gonna take my sweet time."
He moved downward, and I felt his lips tickle my neck and then my collarbone. He reached up with his hand and gently tugged at the collar of my loose T-shirt, exposing more skin to his lips and tongue.
His kisses were soft, and his tongue was teasing. There was nothing X-rated about any of this, and yet, with every kiss and every caress, my breathing became more shallow, and my hips became more insistent on rising against him in a desperate bid to lure him closer.
Just when I thought I'd go utterly insane, he shifted his body to the side until he wasn't lying so muchonme, as next to me. With a slow, lingering touch, he reached for the lower hem of my T-shirt. With the fabric tucked between his fingers, he ran a warm hand up my torso, skimming across the side of my stomach and then higher, until my torso was nearly bare, and his hand curved around the side of my breast, which was covered only with a thin, silky bra.
He moved the cup aside, and I felt the exposed nipple harden in the cool night air. Or who knows, maybe it was already hard. All I knew for certain was that I ached for him, both inside and out.
I lifted my head, hoping to get a better look. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I could see his mouth, curved into a slight, secret smile, like he was thinking of things he shouldn’t say out loud.
I couldsorelate.
Still, I couldn't help but whisper, "What are you thinking?"
He lifted his gaze to mine, and in those soulful eyes of his, I saw raw lust, along with something more tender. It was the tenderness that almost did me in.
Yup, this definitely felt like a dream, a wild and wonderful dream, starring me and this incredible guy who, even now, was driving me crazy with anticipation.
He still hadn't answered my question, but he also hadn't looked away. So I waited, breathless and eager, until he finally said in a tone that was almost teasing, "I'm not gonna tell you."
"What? Why not?"
