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I can be that for her. Act like a goody two shoes. Be a normal boyfriend.
For now...
7
Amber
He calls me all mine.The words are so romantic. Loving. Which is why Idon’t know why they fill me with shivers. The way he says them makes the hair on my neck prickle and yet they make me feel like I’m being ripped open between my legs.
Invaded.
Overthrown. Broken. Done for.
And that liquidizes me. It’s like they mean more than what they sound like. They mean dark things. Things a girl should run away from and yet I smile at him as he sits on the edge of my bed.
He looks down right hot. Dressed in khaki pants, a pale blue shirt and a navy blazer. Every time I look at him, it makes me bite my lip like a lovesick teenager. But it’s not just about his appearance.
It’s his essence. The nitty-gritty that makes Stan him.
The concert is tonight and he’s going to be there with me.
Support me in that rare way that only he knows how. Personally, I don’t know how he does it and it makes me curious about him and I ask a lot of questions. He answers them reluctantly, like he doesn’t want to talk a lot about himself.
Like all his focus is on me.
To be honest...he almost doesn’t talk about himself at all. All the info I’ve managed to get on him is that his life, especially in his younger years wasn’t easy. It makes me ache for him.
But he doesn’t seem to want me to ache for him. Not in that way anyway. Instead he wants my mouth. And my body. And all the rest of me.
When we kiss its fireworks. Crushing. So much so that all the four season could pass outside of my window and I wouldn’t have a clue as long as Stan’s lips are on mine. As long as he drinks me and holds me.
Reveres me. We’ve only known each other for a couple of days but I already don’t know how I’ll ever be able to live without him.
It scares me. In a good way. Mostly in a good way.
Right now I have butterflies in my stomach, twisting and twirling in front of Stan because I want him to help me choose what I’m going to wear. His eyes watch me intently and he swallows hard like I’m poking at bottomless emotions.
“What do you think?” I ask with my hands on my hips and I push out a little more than necessary because whenever we kiss, his hands are always groping my butt which he seems to be extra fond of. “Too much?”
“You’re beautiful,” he says in a serious voice. “You always are.” He waves with his two fingers at me, the chain bracelet around his wrist flickering in the light. “Now enough prancing around. Get in my lap and let me taste you.”
My cheeks heat because that’s all we seem to be doing. Kissing. Nuzzling. Petting. The situation is different between us. We’re no longer roommates.
We might even be something more than lovers. But I don’t know if there is a word for that. We seem to be something undefinable. Something that shouldn’t even be talked about. Only whispered.
“Patience,” I smile and he groans miserably, rubbing his forehead and his leg twitches. “Think I’ll change into something else,” I murmur. “Wait here.”
Going into the bathroom and getting out of my dress that was a little too cutesy, I step into my second choice and when I catch my own reflection, I bite my lip.
I think Stan is going to like this one. It’s risky. Maybe even a little too risky, but he’s a guy, right? Don’t they love as much skin as possible?
With my heart fluttering, I dance into the living room, pirouetting in front of him.
His face drops and I stop playing around. His eyes look cornered. Threatened. His hand that’s resting on his knee is clenched and his mouth turns into a firm line.
Maybe Stan isn’t one of those guys who likes this kind of look. At least not on me.
“What’s wrong?” I ask in concern. “Do you hate it?”
