No apology, because my urge is genuine, and the mystery of your rhythm is so feminine. Here I am, and I want to take a hit of your scent ,
'cause it bit so deep into my soul.
Oh, I want you."
The lyrics began from somewhere dull and vague in the back of his consciousness, but gradually became louder as he was pulled from sleep. He lifted his head from the pillow, struggling to adjust his eyes and gazing confusedly across the plane of sheets. An alarm clock was crooning, but much too softly to ever wake anyone up who wasn't already well on their way. The red digital figures read 9:00 A.M., and he was startled for a moment when he realized he had no idea where he was.
He looked around the room-- most white with the occasional girly sentiment tossed unmethodically about-- and over the bed, which, in the absence of a real frame or headboard, was really just a levitated mattress. And he was naked.
Ah, yes. He remembered. How had he forgotten, even in that muddled obscurity for the few moments of cognizance? He turned over on his other side and was almost surprised to see her lying there. She was, like him, still entirely undressed, laying on her stomach. Her fine lilac sheets were thrown about her waist, exposing the broad expanse of smooth, tan skin of her back. Her face was turned away from him and her hair was wild.
He leaned across her, pressing his chest to her back and positioning his face in front of hers. He could feel her shallow breaths and eyelashes against his cheek. He smiled. He was so close to her that his lips were already touching hers, so the gesture wasn't entirely a kiss, but it nevertheless succeeded in stirring her from sleep.
She smiled and closed her eyes again, nodding in recognition of him. Neither spoke, though. Carefully, he removed his face from before hers and positioned himself so that he was laying completely atop her, all of his body pressing hers into the mattress. He laid his head against her back and supported himself slightly on his bent arms, running his fingers softly over the skin of her shoulders. She giggled. This pleased him. In hopes of augmenting more laughs, he blew puffs of air gently against her back and trailed a few kisses behind them. She squirmed beneath him, but he was persistent and did not let her up. When she finally managed to wiggle free, he rolled over on his back and pulled her to lay on top of his chest.
"Hey," he ventured, smiling down at her.
"Mmm, hi," she answered, closing her eyes and smiling as she ran one hand absentmindedly through his chest hair.
"Did you sleep well?"
"Kinda sore," she admitted, only half kidding and opening her eyes to look at him now.
"I gave it my best shot," he joked, shrugging and running a hand down her back to settle it just above her ass.
"Well," she retorted, "it's been a while since it was a regular thing for me, but from what I remember, you sure knocked it out."
He smiled proudly and nodded. Suddenly, though, the mood got serious and he felt her eyes burning into him. He moved his hand up to press it firmly against her back.
"Hey...last night..." he began, not sure of what he was actually going to say, "it was really...I mean, not that I have a frame of reference with this sort of thing...no, not that this is 'a sort of thing', but--"
"Ross?" she interjected, smiling a bit at his anxiety. "It was really wonderful for me, too."
"Good," he stated happily. "God, that's good, because you wouldn't believe how scared I was when I saw you this morning that you were going to wake up and think I was the biggest ass."
"Why would I think that?" she asked, authentically confused.
"I don't know...I guess I was just afraid you'd think I was some asshole who'd taken advantage of you and was going to duck out when it was over."
"Well, you're still here, aren't you?"
"I am," he nodded, smiling in assurance and kissing her forehead, "...and I will be until it stops being okay with you." She smiled and kissed his chest as compensation.
"God, Ross, are we insane? I mean, is this totally crazy?"
"I think so, yes," he teased, though he was serious. "But I don't care," he quickly added, shaking his head.
"Me neither," she confirmed, wiggling her nose at him in a devastatingly charming way and leaning up to kiss him right between the eyes. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to pee," she announced uninhibitedly, getting up from the bed and strolling across the room to the adjoining bathroom.
He watched her go, propping himself up against the wall and putting his arms behind his head, smiling contentedly as he watched her naked form amble slowly and seductively away. She really was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, and in such a natural way. Sure, she could be any one of those Maybelline or Cover girls, but she had more to her. There was something so womanly and maternal about her-- in everything from her posture to her caress. He'd never felt so safe or protected by anyone as he had in just those few moments after their lovemaking when she'd held him. Something inside her-- in the way she touched him, spoke to him, kissed him, held him, and made love to him-- told him she was the real thing. She was what he'd been waiting for.
His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden knock on the door. He panicked initially, but then realized that he was not 18 and this was not some girl's room he'd snuck into in the middle of the night. It was probably just that roommate Rachel had told him so much about.
"Rach, are you in there? I can't find my keys and they're going to tow my car if I don't move it!"
Ross wasn't sure of what to do. Surely she'd heard them last night (the whole building probably had), so she had to know he was in there. Still deeming it inappropriate to answer, however, he sat by anxiously, hoping Rachel would hear. She did, and came rushing back into the room just as Erica decided to barge in.
"Rachel, have you seen my--WOAH!" she exclaimed, shielding her eyes to the bare-assed roommate standing before her. Instinctively, Rachel hopped into the bed beside Ross and threw the sheets over her.
"Erica, what are you doing!?" she yelled. "Jesus, knock first!"
"I did!" she defended herself, still turned around and shielding her eyes. "You obviously didn't hear! I'm sorry! I'm not here! I'm leaving!"
Erica closed the door behind her, leaving a very tense Rachel sitting in bed beside a very amused Ross. When she saw him chuckling, she smacked him across the chest.
"Ross, that wasn't funny! You don't know Erica! She's not going to leave me alone for DAYS, now!"
"Well, maybe I just wont leave you alone for days, first, and then she wont get a chance," he suggested, pulling her down against him with her head on his chest. She put up no fight, falling willingly into his embrace. They laid like that for a little while, enjoying one another in complete silence.
"Hey, Ross?" she finally said, her voice sounding kind of feeble. "This might be a dumb question, but you wouldn't want to come to this really silly dinner party at my work on Friday, would you?"
"Why's that a dumb question?" he asked, rubbing her back. "I'd love to."
This was obviously the correct response, as it merited her reaching up and placing a deep, open-mouthed kiss on his lips. She pressed herself firmly against him and kissed him until his toes curled and he was out of breath. When she pulled away, she just sat there starting intensely at him.
"What was that for?" he asked. "Not that I'm complaining...at all."
"The last guy I dated never came to even one of my work events ," she explained. Ross was taken slightly aback by her use of the word "dated", unsure as to what the implications of that meant for him, but decided to overlook it momentarily.
"I'm sure he was just a really busy guy."
"We dated for over a year," she revealed. Not sure of how to respond to this, Ross decided to get back to her previous statement.
"Well, you've never dated me before," he retorted, smiling boyishly.
"Is that what this is?" she asked nervously.
"Well, we haven't technically been on a date, yet," he pointed out.
"Wow, you're right," she agreed. "Yikes, I put out before the first date! I'll tell ya, I'm really letting myself go." She didn't say it as if the prospect worried her.
"How about this?" he proposed. "I've got to work almost every day this week, and I imagine you do, too. So what do you say to Friday being our first official date? I'll bring you flowers and everything-- real classy."
"I say that sounds wonderful. Now, cuddle with me some more before I have to go," she demanded, pulling him on top of her.
"Where are you going? It's the weekend."
"I've got to help my sister move into her new place," she disclosed.
"Oh, because thought maybe we could do some more laundry..." he teased. Without even lifting her head from his chest, she reached over for one of her feather pillows and hit him in the face with it.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO End Chapter 4. Continued in Chapter 5.