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“Just think about it,” I urge her before she withdraws. “You’re attracted to him, right?”
She shrugs, but I can tell. It is plain on her face. Anyone can see it. I bet Veronica finds her terrifying.
“My brother may seem like a puzzle, but he is simple to understand once you incorporate a few clues. Do you want to know what they are?”
She hesitates, then nods tightly.
“Okay. The first thing you need to know is that he—and I—are sensitive to judgment. We have learned that when people seem to disapprove of us, that is just step one in what will often turn into a campaign of spite. Do you understand?”
“I…” She breathes, then hesitates, finally shaking her head. “Nope. I do not understand.”
“Okay, fair enough!” I chuckle, happy to see that she is not only honest, she also does not have too strong of an ego to admit she doesn’t understand something. “I just mean, judgmental people make us nervous. Open-minded people make us comfortable.”
“Oh!” she laughs. “Well, that’s easy. Got it.”
“The other thing is, you need to be forward. You know what I mean?”
“Like, sassy? Like honest?”
I watch her expression intently for signs of discomfort. She is more curious than anything.
“Like, forward,” I repeat. “You have to tell him what you want. You have to know what you want. And then you have to tell him.”
She cringes slightly. “Well, what if I—”
“You have to figure it out. Be assertive. Be daring, be outrageous. Be inventive! Isn’t that more or less your job?”
She thinks about it, finally rolling her eyes and giggling shyly. “Well, yeah, I guess you could put it that way.”
“I am definitely putting it that way,” I say. “Think about it. You already know this. What gets him the most excited? Innovation. Courage. Audaciousness. Out-of-the-box thinking.”
Slowly she nods, staring at her hand in mine. I am fascinated to see the process she goes through: considering the possibilities, initially rejecting them, circling back around to understand what I am really saying. She tests the scenarios in her mind, and I know this, because she begins to blush all over again.
“Audaciousness,” she whispers, almost inaudibly.
“There you go,” I answer encouragingly. “You understand me.”
Her eyelashes flutter as she looks up at me, her expression completely changed. All traces of uncertainty have vanished, replaced by a playful, confident demeanor. Reflexively, I am hit with a shockwave of desire. This is it. This is the woman. This is the key to my lock. I almost hate to give her away to my brother.
Then, to my shock, she surges closer to me. In one smooth movement, she twists to lift a leg and slide onto my lap, facing me, draping her arms over my shoulders. Automatically, my hands find her narrow waist and cage it between my fingers, holding her as she pulses gently against me.
It is almost like I can read her thoughts. She’s curious, courageous, emboldened by my words. And yet, I seem to have underestimated her.
Her lips hover just millimeters away from mine, open to allow her sweet, gentle breath to float over my mouth. She tastes good, and we pause for a few tortured seconds, just barely apart. Just tasting the space between us, letting longing fill us like a sluice suddenly opened.
She arches her back to kiss me, moaning gently as our lips begin quickly to explore each other with mounting intensity. I am hungry for her, so hungry I practically want to drain her of this delicious taste. I want her tongue, her teeth, her body wrapped around me. I want her arms clutching my shoulders. Her thighs clenched over my hips.
I find myself in an immediate, primal frenzy, touching every part of her. Her breasts contract under my palms, nipples turning to hard pebbles. Her flanks are thick and yet yielding under my fingers. Her sex is blazing hot behind just a few wisps of fabric.
When I open my eyes, hers are half-open too. Our gazes lock onto each other as though the connection had been there this whole time. Like an ethernet connection, simply waiting to be plugged in. It feels so natural and correct, I can’t believe we are not already fucking.
But then, a chime. It takes me a moment to remember what it is, but I force myself to hold her hips and remove her from my throbbing, eager loins.
Her eyes search mine, frantic and suddenly self-conscious.
“What is it? Did I do something wrong?”
“Oh no, Opal,” I reassure her quickly as I stand, trying to catch my breath. “You were perfect. You are perfect.”
