This chapter may come off as racy to some people, but when I was writing this, I tried to make it tasteful and romantic, not trashy. Consider yourself warned.

Eleven

I could hear Henry barking furiously on the other side of the door, and Greg stumbling around. So much for coming over early and surprising him. It had taken me so long to walk to his place, he had the time to come home from work, shower, and change clothes. Pathetic, huh?

"Hey," he said when he opened the door, his face brightening at the sight of me for only a few seconds before falling into a grim frown. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Noah didn't have anymore room on the Arc," I answered, pushing myself past him and flopping down on the couch.

"That's leather!" he screeched, pulling me up before I left a giant wet impression of my body.

"Sorry," I replied half heartedly, running my fingers through my damp hair. "I've just had a really crappy day."

"I can tell," he said, pulling me close to him and planting a kiss on my forehead. "What happened?"

"I'm afraid Cornelius is dead," I tried to mock the sorrow of a widow at her rich, fat, dead husband's funeral. Greg gasped, letting go of me and racing over to the kitchen table to get his car keys.

"There's not a moment to spare!" he declared in his best super hero voice. "We must find the victim and bring him back to life!" I laughed slightly, but grabbed Greg's arm before he could reach the door.

"Don't worry about it, Greg," I said, not really caring about the car myself. I felt like the entire world was giving up on me that day; the last thing I was worried about was some hunk of metal that didn't even function anymore. I just needed some affection, some support, from a living, breathing being. "Do you have some clothes I can wear?"

He raised his eyebrows and threw his keys down on the counter, completely forgetting about the poor little car. I followed him into his bedroom as he rummaged through dresser drawers, pulling out t-shirts and scrub pants.

"Um, Greg," I began, picking up some of the shirts and holding them up to my body to compare. "These aren't going to fit me." He looked up from his crouched position.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because of my boobs," I pointed out, as if he hadn't noticed them before. All of his t-shirts were cut for boys, but I certainly wasn't shaped like a flat piece of cardboard. Again, a dangerous grin crept onto his face.

"Well, maybe you should just wear nothing at all," he said. I laughed at his endless attempts to get me naked and into his bed, but when I saw the way he was staring at me, I stopped thinking it was a joke. His face became completely serious, and he gave me the look of a tiger watching its prey, waiting for the right moment to advance. It was carnivorous. Greg wanted me, and I wanted him. I deserved to be happy like this. Why didn't I just go for it?

We inched our bodies closer together before we were practically standing on top of each other. We were like conjoined twins, connected by our eyes. We couldn't break the other's gaze. He leaned in and kissed me on the mouth. I let him part my lips and guide his tongue inside, feeling an almost foreign sensation deep down inside of my body. His hands began to roam around, and before long, he was peeling off layers of my moist clothing; my coat, my shirt, my skirt. I pulled his t-shirt over his head, and for a moment, I felt my entire body tense up. I couldn't look at him in the face; I could only stare at his stomach and his happy trail, leading down below his belt. His stomach was heaving in and out from his breathing. He pulled my head up with his hands, and again, we were locking eyes.

"It's okay," he whispered. I didn't know what he meant exactly, and neither did he, but it made me feel a world better. For so long, I had denied both Greg and myself this pleasure. I was unsure if I should have done it at all. Yet now that I was here, in the moment, the feelings of euphoria and elation were almost too much to handle. Greg could sense that in my face and my body; I didn't even have to voice my fears. That's when I knew that this was right.

He covered my neck and chest in kisses, and I didn't try to stop him when he reached for the clasp of my bra. He couldn't undo the closure, and I giggled, realizing that even when it came to sex, Greg couldn't always be serious. Eventually, I helped him out, and let my bra fall to the ground with such an amazing feeling of liberation. He buried his head between my breasts, and I felt his lips grazing my skin, kissing and nibbling. We stumbled over to the bed like a contestant in a three legged race, and I sat down on the edge, letting Greg's legs straddle mine as I undid his belt and the buttons and zipper of his jeans.

I inched myself back onto the bed, and let Greg crawl on top of me in nothing but his boxers. He tried to balance his weight on his arms, but I pushed at his elbows and let him fall into me, our bare chests pressed up against each other. We pulled the sheets of the unmade bed over ourselves before stripping entirely, and that's when I let Greg do what he had been begging to do ever since we met. I felt a slight pressure between my legs, and then the most amazing pleasure I had ever experienced. Greg and I collectively let out a tiny gasp, and I felt him thrusting his hips against mine. Sweat began to drip from his forehead onto me, and as we reached the climax, I couldn't help but moan. I bit the side of his face and dug my nails into the skin on his back, trying not to scream.

When it was all over, Greg stayed on top of me for a moment, looking deep into my eyes and smiling, wiping the sweat off of my face. Eventually, he climbed off and fell into the bed next to me, burying his face against the side of my chest as I wrapped my arm around his warm body. We fell asleep just like that, the room still a dizzying mess of wet clothes and the smell of sex.

We didn't use a condom.