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So I concentrate on her perfect body instead, slipping my hands around to massage her ass. She opens her legs, breathing fast, as though she can’t believe what’s happening. Neither can I. All I care about is the taste and the texture of her skin.
Imagine if he was my first kiss!
She wrote this line with little hearts dotted around it, each one meticulously colored in. Her scent tempts me to her hole, sweet and inviting, smelling of sex and the future and love. I’m so close I can almost taste her, and an image flashes in my thoughts—Evie, as a kid, hunched over her notebook, grinning, flashing her braces.
I stumble away and stand, hands shaking, everything trembling. Even the hunger inside is jostling around like it’s going to explode. I want it to. I’ll leap on her, open her legs, feast on her soaked pussy, drive my tongue into her hole, and push my upper lip against her clit.
“Talk about a tease,” she says.
Her tone is interesting. Hard, but I can tell there’s a soft center as if she’s protecting her most vulnerable parts with a solid shell.
“We’re never going to get this tattoo done, are we?”
The empty spot on my shoulder tingles as though Starman has just launched one of his shurikens at me.
She sits up, readjusting her dress, gazing up with glistening eyes. She’s so close to breaking down. It makes me feel like an ass.
“Hot and cold, that’s you, huh, Brian?”
“You can’t expect me to be instantly okay with this,” I snap.
She stands quickly, tugging her dress down. She wants to cover as much of herself as possible like she wants nothing to do with me.
“Nothing’s changed. This is how I felt when we first kissed. It’s how I feel now. Everything’s the same.”
“Except I know now. I thought this was new for both of us, but if you’ve wanted me for years, almost a decade, you can’t judg—”
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t judge. I know how I feel about you. If anything, this means it’s easier for me to judge. I’ve had a long time to think about this. I’ve had a long time to wonder what it would be like.”
My mind skips back to the times I visited here before I left for long deployments. I still saw Roger, of course, but I just never swung by the house, never saw Evie turn from the girl with the braces to the woman she is now. During those earlier visits, she could’ve been watching me, writing in the notebook, and scribbling out her passion.
She walks up to me and places her hand on my chest. A single tear clings to her eyelash. I wipe it away with my thumb.
“Do you think I’m weird?” she asks softly.
“No,” I tell her. “You’re not the weird one. It’s natural to have a crush on an older man. It’s natural to dream and want those dreams to come true, but think about it from my perspective, Evie. I feel like I’m taking advantage.”
She grabs my wrist, guides my hand to her hip, places her fingers atop mine, and pushes down so that she forces me to cradle her curvy body. “How can you be taking advantage if I want it?”
“What if you don’t always want it?” I growl.
Moving away from her is the hardest thing, but it’s necessary. I’m switching on the operator part of me again—the Marine, not that it ever goes away—and clicking the coldness and the distance into place.
“What if you wake up in a couple of years and decide this was just a crush after all? We’ll have broken your parents’ hearts for nothing.”
“A couple of years,” she repeats.
She averts her gaze and wraps her arms across her middle as if protecting herself from what I’ve just said. It was a slip, a hint at the life I want us to share, the long future I see ahead of us—the love, the children, the happiness.
“It was a figure of speech,” I say weakly.
“Oh,” she murmurs, not indicating how she feels about this.
Maybe she wanted it—us—to last at least a couple of years, or perhaps she’s relieved by my lie. A figure of speech? That’s more like an understatement. I want her for forever, not just a few years.
“What now?” she says, looking at me quickly and then away.
“I don’t know,” I reply.
She laughs without a single hint of humor. It’s more like she’s letting out anxious air.
“This whole thing is too weird for you, right? So maybe you should go.”
“I’m trying to look at this from an outside perspective,” I snap. “A forty-two-year-old man, a nineteen-year-old woman… It’s bad enough that the man’s the woman’s dad’s best friend, but now he learns she’s had a crush on him too. What’s the responsible thing to do?”
