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Gulp.
I slap my hands over my eyes, tout suite. “Oh my god,” I groan. “I’m sorry. I know you’ll never believe me, but that was an accident.”
“Oh. Goodness,” she breathes. Then, impossibly enough, she adds, “It appears that I’m suddenly almost naked.”
“Good lord, it appears you are. I promise I saw nothing. I wasn’t looking. I have my eyes closed.” I whirl around, giving her my back just in case my hands have a hand accident like the zipper accident and fall off my eyes. “I have my back closed too. I mean, I’m facing the other direction.”
“Oh. Oh goodness, it appears that you are. Facing backward, I mean.” Even more impossible, it appears that her arms are sliding around my waist.
I jerk my eyes open and peep through my fingers, and yup. Those are definitely her hands clasping in front of me, and that’s her body pressing against my back. All her soft, womanly curves are squishing against me, and by squishing, I mean doing absolutely wonderful things that aren’t squishy or strange like that word implies. That’s the wrong word. No, Azalea is doing things with her body that my mind can’t even compute, and my mind is generally very good at computing.
“Did I shave my legs for this?” she purrs.
I’m not sure that makes sense. I’m not sure what she’s talking about. “Uhh, I don’t know? Did you?” It seems like the safest response.
“Oh, I most certainly did, but more importantly, did you shave your chest for this?”
“What the heck? I mean, that came out wrong. Not what the heck. I mean, yes, what the heck, but also less of what the heck?” I know I should just shut it at this point, so I do.
Azalea presses herself tighter against me. She’s warm. God, so warm. Warm enough that I can feel her body heat through my jacket, my pants, and my dress shirt. Warm enough that, uh…she’s not wearing anything on top. That’s her very naked breasts pressing into me. My brain completely shuts off after it finally computes that.
“Tomorrow, I’m going to take my parents and disappear. At least, I hope they’ll be okay with tomorrow. It might be the day after, but either way, I’m not going to be here anymore. Not in this house. Not with you. Your granny told me I’d have my money by tomorrow morning and the fake IDs she’s setting up. She’s working her magic tonight. So…why not? We’re never going to see each other again. We’re grown people with our heads on straight, and it would just be scratching an itch. I’m going to have to go into hiding for a long time, and well, maybe we’ve both already been hiding for a good long while.”
“Oh. Oh, goodness,” I choke. Not my finest moment, I’ll admit. A beautiful woman with her very lovely breasts—not that I’ve seen them, but from what I can feel of them, they’re lovely—is pressed up against me, almost naked, telling me that she’d like to get me in bed—holy shitballs, is she seriously saying that?—and that’s all I can get out. All I can manage. Okay, maybe my brain isn’t as hotshot as I thought it was. This, people, is a big lesson in humility.
“More importantly,” Azalea keeps purring. “Your chest is already shaved, after all. It’s going to grow back and be itchy as a mother plucker soon, so you might as well make it worth it.”
I have my eyes screwed up tight, which I don’t realize until Azalea walks around my frozen form and takes my hands from where they’re pressed firmly against my eyes.
“They’re cold again. Your hands.”
Don’t open your eyes. Don’t open your eyes. Don’t open your eyes.
“Are you going to pass out again?”
I shake my head furiously.
“Do you want to kiss me?”
I start shaking my head, but then I hear what she just said, and it wasn’t something bad, and there was no accusation, so my eyes slowly work their way open, and I start nodding just as furiously.
“Good. Because I want to kiss you too. In fact, I’d like to do more. If the need arises and the mood strikes us. We’ve had a few drinks, but we’re only lightly buzzed. Just enough to be free and say things that will probably embarrass us later, but it’s okay, I think. Isn’t it okay?”
“Uh, I…I….” Yup. I’m apparently not going to get past that. Actual words aren’t going to happen anytime soon.
Azalea cups my face in her hands, which are blazing hot. She’s right. I think mine are very cold in comparison, probably because all the blood has left things like my hands and feet and brain and gone to things like, uh, well, my junk and groin and more junk. She stands on her tiptoes and pulls me to her. My arms seamlessly wrap around her waist, holding her against me like she was made to fit there. I don’t even realize that I’m doing it until our lips meet. Not meet but crush. The kiss is crushing.
