I came over, as I said I would, and rang the doorbell. We had been together for about a month, and still hadn't had sex. Sure, we had felt each other up a bit, but our clothes had always stayed on. I wasn't sure why, but we both felt the need to take it slow with each other. He was no one night stand, and according to him, neither was I. Now there I was, standing on Charlie's doorstep; knees shaking, throat dry, and hair perfect, save the few curls that had frizzed out from the humid summer air.
The door opened, and there he was. I looked him up and down, taking in every detail I thought I had recognized, but always seemed to be surprised by with every new glance. His chin met me evenly at eye-level. Just perfect for those "made-for-the-movies" kisses I had grown to crave. His eyes were a beautiful shade of emerald green that I found captivating and sexy as hell under his dark-brown hair that always seemed to look like he had just taken off a hat. A light-brown tan covered his body. That's what I loved about him being a country boy. Country boys worked with no shirts in the summer, so they tanned evenly. And this country boy had a body that was made from bull-ridin' and hay-bailin'. Sculpted in all the right places, relaxed in others. Beautiful and solid. He was rock-hard to look at, but like a teddy bear when he hugged me, held me close.
Like now, when he wrapped me in his arms and kissed my temple. Butterflies.
He grabbed my hand, pulling me inside, leading me to the living room. I sat down on the couch, and he asked if I wanted a drink. I smiled and accepted, watching him walk into the kitchen and return with a cold can of Wild Cherry Pepsi. We sat and watched a movie, but we never really paid attention to it. We were so engrossed in talking to one another, getting to know more about where we each came from, talking about our pasts. We found out a lot about each other, that we didn't already know. We talked about serious things, first loves, first losses, etc. We talked about random things, like our favorite restaurants, allergies, favorite pets, bullies in school, and even favorite childhood games. His was truth or dare. Mine was hide-and-seek. At this point, an idea hit me, and I smiled at him. When he looked at me with a questioning glance, I chuckled. I think I shocked him when I got up, walked around behind the couch, leaned down and whispered in his ear, my mouth only a breath away...
"Tag, baby. You're it."
I took off running, heading straight for the back of the house, where I knew the bedrooms were since he had shown me around his place the first time I had been here. As I came into his bedroom, I searched for a place to hide, and wound up closing the closet door behind me just as he came surging into the room. I could see him through the slots of the door, searching high and low for me. I giggled.
Shit... he heard me.
I tried to jump behind the coats as the door flew open, and his arm wrapped around my waist. I laughed loudly as he carried me out of the closet and wrestled me to the ground. After a moment of struggle, I finally had him pinned underneath me.
"You know..." he breathes, "This is really unfair."
"Why is that?"
"Well, I'm a manly kinda guy, I'm not supposed to lose to a girl!"
"Think of it this way, baby. I'm a take-control kinda gal, and you might just like it," I tell him in a low, moaning voice.
At this moment, my face was inches away from his, so I saw the fire that blazed suddenly in his eyes. He grabbed my face and kissed me. I melted on top of him, my hands releasing his arms so I could brace myself on the ground. His lips. Christ, his lips! It was like kissing velvet or silk, his lips were so soft.
He rolled us over, leaning halfway over me as he brought his hand up to my face, running his fingertips over my cheek to cup my jaw, bringing his face down to mine. He brushed his lips over mine, once, twice, then diving into a kiss that sent the world spinning around me. His hand drifted from my jaw, down my neck, over my arm, to my hip, then back up my side, where it stopped just under my breast. He pulled away, just as breathless as I was as I read the question in his eyes. He waited, and I read.
"Please," I whispered.
His hand moved up, a small smile curving at the corners of his mouth before he kissed me again, just once. He pulled away, looking down to watch as his hand drifted slowly up my breast, stopping every inch or so to massage softly. Time stopped, I held my breath, my skin got warmer under his touch, and I stared up at his face, watching his expression change as his hand got closer to my nipple. When his hand finally inched its way up to my nipple, he lightly grazed his thumb over it. It instantly peaked, pressing against my bra and tank top. He groaned when he saw that, turning his face back to mine, the fire that had grown in his eyes burning into me.
