Bex told me to take a chance, but this feels less like a dip in the relationship pool and more like being dropped in the middle of the ocean. Michael Demir is not a starter boyfriend. If I opened my heart and it didn’t work out, I’m not sure I could find my way back.
This entire thought experiment could also be pointless, since he mentioned something about leaving town after this weekend.
But what if he doesn’t?
“I can’t get a handle on you,” I tell him quietly. “When we first met, I thought you were a grumpy, growling dragon. Now you scramble my brain with wild sex and sugar and romance. You dance with me.”
“Is that so bad?” he murmurs. “Aren’t you the one who told me we’re all more than one thing? I’m enjoying learning about allyourlittle contradictions and eccentricities.”
He does seem to be. Nothing I say fazes him. I mention presidential genitalia and he finds it endearing. I tell him about wearing makeup and singing “Out Tonight” fromRentwhile crawling across a stage on my hands and knees, and his eyes light with interest. I ramble about my work and he’s fascinated.
“It’s surprising.” Especially when this complex but perfectly wrapped package might as well come from a different world. One with loving mothers and tutors and more money than I’m comfortable thinking about.
As if on cue, the song’s chorus starts to play.
Good as gold
Trade you all my money for your gold.
Worship you cause honey you’re like gold
He’s kept other people at arm’s length for a long time. Determined to prove he isn’t like his father. It sounds like a lonely life. I find myself wanting to help him connect with his brother. I know opening that door would give him a large, interfering family who will make sure he’s never lonely again. Even if we didn’t have more than this weekend, he would still have that. He deserves to have other people see how wonderful he is.
Oh, Winnie. You’ve got it so bad.
He’s staring at my mouth, and it’s turning me on again. After what we did in the shower earlier, and then again on the bed, I’m surprised I can walk, let alone think of jumping on for another ride. This is so much more than “the normal amount” of hooking up, I’m not sure what to do with it all.
Enjoy it?
That goes without saying.
“I got those DVDs from a friend in Istanbul,” he confesses with a rueful look. “I mentioned Serkan and Eda and he knew exactly what I was talking about. Watching it made me remember your language fetish. And what I said to you that night.”
“I thought of you when I rewatched it too. He reminded me of you.” As we sway, I lift a finger to his furrowing brow. “The forehead. The intensity.”
His forehead intensifies. “I’m nothing like that character.”
I bite my cheek to stop my smile. “Are so.”
“I’m not that OCD. I wouldn’t make those decisions. Except for the handcuffs. I’d definitely put you in handcuffs to keep you around.”
“Sheput the handcuffs onhim.”
“Sure. The first time.”
I smirk. “You have to see the resemblance, Michael. You’re both wealthy Turkish dudes. You both cook and you’reincredibly close with your mothers. You’re both sexy. You both have dogs. His is bigger than both of yours put together, but still.”
“You think he’s sexy?”
That’s what he focused on? “He doesn’t like desserts and he isn’t real, so there’s no comparison.” I rub myself against his growing erection. “He’s also nowhere near as impressive as you are. You win.”
“You’re forgiven. And I’m only half Turkish. The other half is Colorado rancher.”
Yes, yes, you’re perfect. Keep rubbing it in.
I laugh and rest my head on his chest. This conversation shouldn’t be a turn-on, but it is. He watched a show I mentioned in passing because it reminded him of me. “Your hard coating hides a mushy, marshmallow center, Michael Demir.”
“I’m not the one who reads and watches romance on a regular basis.”
