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“Hope,” I warned sharply. “Give me my phone.”
“Sure, sure,” she replied breezily as she handed it back. “Want me to undress in front of my window tonight with the blinds open?”
I looked at my phone, saw the dozens of photos I’d taken of Hope, and sighed.
A firm believer in facing my consequences, I turned to her to accept my fate.
Hope sat across from me, slowly unbuttoning the top two buttons of her blouse. It remained well within rules of propriety but revealed a healthy swath of cleavage.
I swallowed.
“Mustn’t forget to feed my voyeur,” she teased.
I raised my cell phone, silently daring her to close her shirt.
She spread her arms wide and smiled happily at the camera.
“Exhibitionist.”
Click.
She laughed and dived into questions about Sia. Those carried us through dessert, paying the bill, the ride to her home, and only ceased when we stopped outside her door.
She looked up at me, a teasing smile on her lips. “Are you going to kiss me goodnight?”
“Not this time.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Really?”
“Really.” I took her key from her hand. “I would like to come in though, if that’s okay.”
“He’s coming in but he’s not going to kiss me…hey!” Her head shot up as her brows knit together. “I’m not one of those girls who has sex without the intimacy of kissing!”
I rubbed the back of my neck with one hand and pushed her through her doorway with the other. “You make me crazy. No sex either. I just want to spend more time with you, see your place, maybe, if I’m lucky, you’ll cuddle with me.”
Seeming intrigued, she moved toward me. “You like to cuddle? You’re a cuddler?”
I sneered. “I’ve never cuddled in my life.”
She smiled widely, leaning her palm against my chest. “I’ll be your first,” she stated.
“You will.”
Taking my hand, she led me to the couch, sat down, and looked up at me with laughter in her eyes. “Don’t worry,” she promised softly. “I’ll be gentle.”
Hope
I didn’t fully believe him when he said there’d be no kissing, but for two hours he simply held me cradled in his arms while we talked.
His idea of cuddling was odd, to say the least. I assumed we’d lie down on the couch side by side. Or sit close with his arm around me. But he held me like a baby, my bottom on the couch, my head in the crook of his elbow, my chest pressed against his.
I tried not to think about the fact that his only experience with cuddling was with his little girl.
It hurt my heart.
Laying back, supported by him, took some time to get used to. Once I relaxed into it, it felt good to rely on his strength to hold me.
My lady parts, however, were not relaxed. In fact, I worried a tsunami stood poised to drown us both.
