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I looked down at my hands for a second, taking a deep breath, then looking up at him. "Okay."
"Okay?" he asked, smile rising slowly. "How about a little enthusiasm here? It's not an execution. In fact, you should be squirming in your seat since you are signing up for the best mother fucking oral sex just about every day for the rest of your life if you're signing up for me."
I smiled then- big, happy, expectant.
Because he might have been full of bravado, but I had experienced enough of his skills to know it was not false bravado.
"What's in the package?" I asked instead, not being the type to get all mushy even if my insides were suddenly all warm and smushy.
"Figured if my world class charm, notorious pussy eating skills, and love for you weren't enough, I should have a backup," he said, picking up the gift and handing it to me.
It was as light as it looked and bent in my hands like fabric. My brows drew together as I looked at him for a second, before my hands went to the nondescript but pretty silver paper, slipped into a hole, and ripped it open.
What did I find?
Socks.
But, wait.
They weren't just socks.
They were Pokemon socks with little Picachus and Balbasours and Charmanders and Squirtles all over them.
If I hadn't been sure before then, I was absolutely one-thousand percent certain right then as my heart did a squeezing thing in my chest and my lips curved up enough to make my cheeks hurt.
I loved him.
"That's a good look," he said, eyes warm. "I like me a low maintenance woman," he added, reaching out to run his hand up my jaw. "Give her a pair of socks and she lights up like a mother fucking Christmas tree."
"It's the thought," I insisted. Flowers and chocolate and diamonds said nothing but 'I am obligated to get you something'. A gift that had personal significance, this case not just knowing I played the video game to cope with my unhappy childhood, but also the fact that you could put a lot of emphasis on the conversation in The Henchmen basement that included talk of my Pokemon socks being the real start to our story, meant so much more. It meant they cared, they paid attention, and they knew you well enough to do better than generic.
"So, we're doing this?"
"We're doing this," I agreed, nodding.
"Well, it's about fucking time, don't you think?" he asked, pulling the socks from my hand, grabbing me, and pulling me close. "So you gonna tell me or what? I told you a couple times already."
"How do you know I feel it?" I countered, lifting my chin a little.
"Well, see," he started, lips twitching from holding back a grin. "It all starts with a little dopamine. You saw me, you got all excited. Your brain kind of liked that feeling. Then we move onto stage two. This is where your system started getting flooded with adrenaline, epinephrine, norepinephrine, getting you all doped up on that high you got when you..."
"Renny, I know what goes on in the..."
"Hush, I am giving you a science lesson," he said as his fingers started tracing up my thigh. "Then you know, you started getting addicted to me. I know, I know... I am a hard habit to shake. Then, of course, we can't forget that your amygdala shuts down, you know, because you're obsessed with me and don't want to see any of my flaws. Tricky little fucker that, makes you really unprepared for when I screw up. But you don't care about that because then, oh then, it's all about the cuddle hormone."
"Also known as oxytocin," I smiled. Then my head slammed back into his shoulder as his hand slid between my thighs and pressed in with perfect pressure.
"Gold star. Anyway, I tend to shoot you up with that anytime I give you an orgasm. So, let's just say," he went on as his fingers started tracing my clit, "I plan to keep you coming as much as possible until we get to the final stage where your ventral pallidum is so used to all that shit that you never ever want to give me up. And then we live happily ever after. The end."
I was sure there was some sort of flaw to his argument somewhere, even with all the correct science thrown in, but I was suddenly too distracted by his fingers to care about any of that.
But I wanted, before I came and he or I could blame all the hormones on the fact that I felt it, I turned my head on his shoulder. "Renny?"
"Yeah, sweetheart?" he asked, ducking his chin down and looking at me, eyes intense.
"I love you."--EPILOGUERenny - 2 weeksShe was all but moved into The Henchmen compound. Really, the woman didn't have very much. I guess that came from both living on the road a lot and then having your home be a barracks where you only had a foot locker to store your shit in.
