“Sorry. I think it’s sweet that you have a crush on your boss, Bernie.”
“Don’t call me Bernie.”
“Okay.” I place my last piece of laundry in my basket and turn to face her. She seems pensive.
“I have had a crush on him. Maybe it’s dumb. I guess I need to get over it.”
“I agree. How do you plan to do that?”
“I can’t say that I’ve formulated an actual plan yet. How do you plan to get over your ex-girlfriend?”
“I have some ideas.” My eyelids feel heavy. I might have bedroom eyes. Whatever my face is doing right now, it’s making Bernadette uncomfortable.
She wrinkles her brow. “What is with you? You’re behaving so…differently towards me all of a sudden.”
“Yes. I am.”
“Thatwas me trying to stay away from you.” I walk over to her. “Thisis me wanting to get closer to you.”
Her legs and knees are welded together. I see how her body tenses up. I place my hands, one on each of her knees, then slowly move each of my hands up the sides of her thighs. She sucks in her breath. Her shoulders lower a little. When my hands reach her hips, I look straight at her. Our eyes are about the same level now. Her lashes flutter and then her eyelids remain half-closed. She wets her lower lip with her tongue, barely perceptible, but I see it. I feel it. I wait for her body to give me another sign as I grip onto her hips a little tighter.
When she arches her back a tiny bit, raising her breasts, I feel her knees relax apart. I pull her towards me, step between her parted legs. Her hands are on either side of my face as mine reach for her waist. I wait for her to lower her lips to mine, but she doesn’t. She’s studying my face, her fingertips caressing my facial hair, probably deconstructing my features—light and shadow, straight lines and curves.
Fuck that.
I don’t want to be deconstructed by this woman.
I want to disappear into her face and curves and dark, wet places.
I lean in and kiss her. Quickly, decisively, startling her out of her little artist’s reverie. I squeeze her waist. My face is still so close to hers. She shifts around on her ass, lets out a sigh and my mouth finds hers again. She’s with me now, not just responding but hungry, little gasps and quiet moans as her soft lips and tongue move in response to mine but also with their own clear intentions. I like the way she kisses, with her whole body, like it’s the beginning of a really interesting conversation that I want to keep having. Something shifts, and she goes in deeper, grabbing my shirt to pull me closer. She’s groaning into my mouth and biting my bottom lip and her tongue is a caged wild animal that’s been set free and I don’t know if I want to tame it with my mouth or let it roam all over, but I have never had such a sensual fucking kiss in my life and I don’t ever want this to stop.
Then she jerks back like she’s been slapped awake.
“What are you doing.” Her voice is breathy and it’s not really a question, but I have answers for her.
“Behaving differently towards you.” My voice is deeper than it’s ever been and I may be the king of controlling my emotions, but managing this raging hard-on just might kill me.
“You certainly are.”
“I think we should have an arrangement.”
“An arrangement?”
“The kind you’ve had with other guys.”
“Oh.Thatkind of arrangement.”
She slides back further onto the top of the washing machine, squeezing her thighs back together and shutting me out.
“Either that or we can both listen to each other get it on with other people through the vent.”
She bites her lower lip and stares at my mouth. “Did you hear me that afternoon when I…”
“When you were pleasuring yourself? Yes, I did. Thank you for that, by the way.”
She covers her face and groans.
“Oh—are you giving me a repeat performance?”
