AllFreeNovel
Share Us
What would that strong hand feel like on my breast? What would those lips feel like sealed around my areola? Would he keep his eyes closed as he worshiped my breasts? Does he talk during sex? What are his grunts like?
The unknown has my hand working faster, and the disbelief that after everything I’ve been through, I’m actually turned on again… it has the orgasm coming quickly.
I push up on my elbow, loving the sight of my knees spread, covers bunched at my ankles in passionate urgency, my hand swaying back and forth beneath the cotton.
Bang. Bang.
My hand freezes, and my heart leaps into my throat.
Bang.Another loud thud from outside.
Panic swims through my veins, but I think of Dr. Evans’ advice and take a deep breath. Sitting up, I yank my hand out of my panties and wipe my fingers on my t-shirt as I pull it down. Getting to my feet, my orgasm shriveled and gone, I pad down the hallway, saying a silent prayer it’s not him.
But as I near the door, I realize… the noise isn’t someone hitting, knocking or pounding my door. Rocking to my toes, I bring my eye to the peephole, and at the sight, gasp.
Unlocking the door, I open it and take a few steps outside onto the landing between my apartment and the vacant one. On the ground, crouching in front of me with a roll of duct tape and a torn box, is Cohen.
Still in just panties and an oversized t-shirt that sits right above my knees, my hair tangled and messy around my shoulders from sleep, I blink down at him.
Slowly, knowing it’s me hovering over him, he brings his gaze up to mine. His hand falls from the box, coming to cover the top of my completely bare foot. He squeezes a tiny bit, his voice hoarse as he says, “I couldn’t sleep not knowing if you were safe.”
My eyes heat as I etch the vision of his hand on my foot into my memory. Crouched before me, he drops the duct tape, bringing his other hand to my leg. Slowly, he drags the backs of his knuckles up my inner ankle, other hand still covering the top of my foot. “I’ll keep you safe,” he says, and before I can even register all the things this moment has me feeling, he takes his hands off me, collects the splitting box in his arms, and rises. Nudging the apartment door with his hip, it flies open, exposing an equally bare space, a few boxes already inside.
He moved in across the hall from me.
He moved for me.
After placing another box inside the threshold of the apartment, he smooths his hands down into his pants, and my eyes gravitate to the thick curve along his thigh. The unachieved orgasm pulses in my belly, my clit throbbing and swollen. I glance down, knowing the length of my shirt but eager to verify my panties are indeed covered.
When I look at him, he’s studying the tops of his sneakers, gaze respectfully pointed away from my partially nude body.
“I, uh, I have therapy this morning. And then I need to get some groceries,” I tell him, a quiver in my voice I wasn’t expecting. Butterflies spread their wings inside me, and I get a little hit of happiness at the way I feel around him. Excited, nervous, eager. This is what the beginning of relationships should feel like.
“But when I get back, would you like to… have dinner? We can uh, christen your place.” His eyes lift to mine, and I amend my statement. “You know, cook the first meal.”
His smile sends flutters through my clit as he replies, “I’d love that.”
“I’ll text you when I’m home and we can work it out from there. Does that sound okay?” I ask, a smile lifting my lips, even the corners of my eyes.
He nods. “Sounds perfect. I’ll be here, waiting for you.”
As soon as I’m inside my apartment, with the door closed, I press my back to it, fingers blindly tracing the seam as I breathe in and out heavily, working to steady my labored breathing.
He moved across the hall to make sure I’m safe but I had to ask him to kiss me.
I’m beyond ready to finish what I started when I woke up.
Slipping into the now sun-warmed sheets, I close my eyes, plunge my hand beneath my panties, and in less than thirty seconds, my toes are curling and I’m moaning his name as I have the first orgasm I’ve had in… areallylong time.
Because of Cohen.
“How is pursuing friendship going?” Dr. Evans asks as she uncrosses and re-crosses her legs.
She’s wearing a pencil skirt the color of a stormy sky, and a ruby colored blouse, with her hair in a fancy bun. The idea of wearing fancy clothes day in and day out to a job does not sound pleasant. Sliding my feet in and out of my Birkenstocks, playing with the hole in the thigh of my jeans, I tell her the truth.
“Good. But… and I don’t know how this happened… but it feels like more than friendship.” I chance a glance at the Doc, and find her smiling knowingly.
“I can’t be ready for this yet, can I?” I ask, all of it seemingly impossibly true, and shockingly too soon. Yet here I am, smiling back at her just thinking of Cohen.
