Remnants of his cocoa buttered scent still lingered on my frame as I sat, nestled in the corner of my leather arm chair replaying the memories of last night's rendezvous in my mind. The thought of him grabbing a fistful of my curly tresses in his strong but supple hands shot the myriad tingles up and down my spine as I closed my eyes and tried hard to get lost in ecstasy of both the pleasure and pain he was able to execute.
I could feel the warmth emanating from his body as he hovered over me, staring down deep at me as if he were trying to send a message telepathically. I read his mind perfectly as I caressed the nape of his neck, fingers pleased to get tangled in his unkempt 'fro. He told me months ago that he was trying something new and that I was going to have to get used to his full beard and wild hair. I didn't mind. I preferred it more than his usual clean cut.
All day we lay there lazily, afraid to ruin the moment if either of us moved. Instead of food, we fed each others appetite insatiably as we sampled each other over and over again. Each time was different, two new people with each position. Between rounds, I would lay there and let the light sound of his snore lull me into a daze or watch the ceiling fan rotate, a cool breeze permeating the sex-filled air. Sometimes, I'd just watch him. Study him to see if he was the still the same. He was.
And that's what bothered me which is why I'm not still tangled in his sheets, my bare back hugged up against his smooth, strong chest. I always knew he wanted more of me than I was willing to offer and like a dunce, I assumed he understood. He's the type of man to think that he will be the one to change my mind. Clearly, no one warned him.
The crackle of wood burning in my fireplace distracted me momentarily, reminding me about that night we made love in the backyard of his parent's house. He invited me over for the bonfire they were hosting and because I loved his family, I obliged without a second thought. He looked delicious in his raw denim jeans and simple cardigan. He wore it on purpose. I remember him walking up to greet me at the front door, dark aviator frames covering his soft gaze. He removed them, as if on cue, and gently brushed his lips against mine. They were soft and warm. I was hot and ready.
I slipped my hand into his as we made our way through the semi crowded house. Everyone was so happy to see me, faces beaming once I stepped into the room. I scanned the area, looking for the woman of the house. There she was, entertaining a small group of women at the outdoor bar. As I made my way to her, someone called his name, beckoning for the attention he was giving me.
She asked where I had been. Told her work had kept me away, which was partly true. She scolded me and made me promise to come around more. He returned with a glass of wine for me before I could assure her I would. I took a sip to calm my nerves. As the sweet flavors danced on my tongue, he whispered something in my ear causing his mother blush. Turning into him, I whispered back. He slipped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me away from the crowd. I could hear his mother and her friends snickering at our display of affection. I have to admit, it was cute in a high school sweetheart kind of way. But that is how we had always been.
Throughout the night, we managed to steal little moments for two, not really caring about who saw. He accused me of causing him to shed any inhibitions he had when it came to affection. I didn't want that kind of pressure. He would shoot me glances from across the room that only I could decipher. I would sneak up behind him while he laughed with his brothers, whispering in his ear how bad I wanted him. Maintaining his cool demeanor, he would always flash his boyish grin that never failed to tug at my heart, kiss my cheek and continue on with his conversation.
By the time all the guests had left, the bonfire had died out a little. He took my hand and led me towards the lawn couch that was positioned in front of the burning pile of wood. He towered over me by a foot at least, almost swallowing my petite frame when he held me. He stared down at me, eyes boring through to my soul. These are moments I enjoyed with him. Where no words were exchanged but we knew exactly what the other was saying.
He made me bashful on the inside. I was reluctant to show it though. I couldn't. Complete vulnerability is new territory for me. He tries to convince me that I'm safe with him but that shit never works in real life. I allow him just enough to keep him coming back. He could sense my mind reeling so he tilted my head up towards his lowered one and placed a gentle kiss on my lips. I wanted to melt as I allowed my hands to travel up the length of his arms, meeting again as they locked behind his head.
It was evident that I wanted him, regardless of the fact that we were outside in his parents' backyard. A damn I gave not as I pulled back a little so he could watch as I methodically unbuttoned his sweater. I let my hands trail over his solid stomach, anticipating it pressed up against me. He knew this routine all too well as he didn't move while I finagled him out of his t-shirt.
The sound of his belt hitting the concrete patio in a heap along with his jeans got me even more excited because I knew what was coming next. He went for my hair first, never taking his eyes off of mine as he undid the loose braid I rocked. My curly hair was a beast that needed taming and he did a damn good job. Kissing my bare shoulder as if I would break under too much pressure. The spot where my neck and shoulder met stiffened at his touch, making my knees weak. I braced myself to withstand the sweet torture to come...