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She moans and the sound draws my attention.
I look down at her.
At what I’ve done.
My creation.
And it is good.
My hands continue to slide over her body. Up the peaks of her chest. Down the valley of her hips. They brush against fabric. Her skirt that’s become a wrinkled circle of fabric around her waist. It covers nothing.
She’s arching on the desk.
My desk.
We found another use for it.
Sunlight bathes her. Drowns her.
She’s gold and she’s black and she’s beautiful.
Gorgeous.
I knew that. Before I unwrapped her. Before I dove into her. I knew in a distant way. Just like I know a sunset is beautiful. And a moonlit garden is beautiful.
But I didn’t want to kiss those things.
I didn’t want to undress the sunset. Or part the thighs of the moon.
Not the way I wanted Kaelyn.
My best friend is beautiful in a way I can touch. Stunning in a way I can feel.
Her curls fall off the edge of the desk. Dangle over like crimped streamers hanging from the ceiling. Golden light kisses her brown skin, exposed for me. The chest that rises and falls with her scattered breath. The stomach that bore the weight of my kisses.
Beautiful.
So beautiful.
The silence lengthens.
One moment.
Two.
Kaelyn’s eyes roll back where they belong. She breathes. Releases. Looks at me.
Awareness skitters into her expression. A bit of awkwardness. A hint of regret. Uncertainty. Should I have gotten naked with my best friend in his office?
Yes.
No.
It’s too late now.
I’ve gripped.
I’ve smacked.
