AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“He’s pretty intense, huh?”
“Yeah, he’s getting better, though. Meeting Ashe has worked wonders for him. It’s like he’s grown up a decade in the past few months. He still has the same sense of humor but he’s a lot easier to be around now.”
I’d certainly known people like that. Particularly Yara when we’d first moved in together, before we’d both adjusted to always having someone around, sharing our living space with us.
It was interesting, the things that Stig and I already had in common. Maybe it wasn’t so insane to think we might have been meant to be together. Perhaps there was such a thing as one true pairing.
I settled down further into the depths of the sofa and snuggled closer to Stig. He smelled like a great mix of the outdoor air, the alcohol we’d had back at the bar, and men’s shampoo. It was a manly smell I enjoyed letting waft over me as we sat so close together.
The record ended, and he put on another and then another, taking us deep into the night. Once in a while we’d talk about the song or the band playing it, or one of us would marvel at a part of the record that sounded particularly great, but otherwise, the comfortable silence that had lingered between us when we’d first gotten to the bar returned, and I welcomed it.
We didn’t have sex, despite the amazing energy between us, as strong as it was undeniable.
But we did hold hands, and we kissed, which was electric.
I already knew that when we did do it, it would be out of this world.
Yet I was enjoying how we were taking our time and drawing things out.
I’d never felt safer with someone who was essentially a stranger.
So much so, that I eventually let myself fall asleep, and I thought I felt Stig drifting off at about the same time.
There was nowhere I’d rather be than right there in dreamland next to him.
Chapter Six – Stig
A sound, soft and familiar, permeated the room. It took me a moment to realize it was the soft pop and click of an elapsed vinyl record, as the needle hit the label.
Getting myself upright, I walked over and put it out of its misery.
It was the second series of sounds— a soft sigh and creak— that made me turn around, as something distinctly human-like moved on the couch behind me.
I was about to ready go get a baseball bat, wondering if there was an intruder.
Then I remembered that I’d brought Holly home last night— or rather, she’d given me a ride home— and that we’d enjoyed a nice time listening to records before apparently falling asleep together.
Now that I was fully awake, the good memories came rushing back to me. I couldn’t forget the taste of lips when I kissed her. Nor how close my arm was to her big, bouncy breasts.
I’d played it sweet and taken it slow.
But it was all part of a larger plan.
When I pounced, she was going to love it.
I wanted to take her and claim her as my own, over and over.
Yet I knew that all the best things came to those who waited, and so I was practicing patience.
“Well, hello there,” I told her, smiling. “You are the best thing to see first thing in the morning.”
“Thanks,” she said, giggling. “And right back at you.”
I loved the sound of her laughter.
It made me do crazy things— like offering to cook, which I never do.
“You’re probably hungry,” I said. “Let me make you some breakfast.”
“Okay,” she said, as I took her by the hand and led her to my kitchen.
“Sit tight,” I said, motioning to a chair.
I poured us both some orange juice. Then, as she sat at the table drinking hers and I took sips of it from my glass on the counter, I did my best to remember how to pour some pancake batter and make something edible.
“Yum,” she said, as I set the plate in front of her. “First the music session last night and now this? You must be really trying to impress me.”
“You figured me out,” I said, as I sat down next to her, and we both started to eat.
“This is delicious,” she told me as she took a bite, and then I did too. “Thank you.”
Remembering how great it felt to kiss her last night, I put my fork up to her mouth and said, “Maybe mine tastes different than yours. You should try it, too.”
And she did, eating the bite of pancake off my fork and then handing me a bite of hers the same way.
“I think they taste pretty similar,” she said. “But you might want to test it yourself.”
“Oh, yeah?” I said, as I took the bite she’d offered me. “What else do you want me to taste?”
