SEVEN
At four, I go into the restroom at work and lock the door. I wash my face and neck, attempt to give myself a pep talk in the mirror. Use my fingers to brush my hair back into some semblance of order.
Then, I grab my raincoat from the back room and walk out, flinging it over my head. The walk to her apartment is too slow and too fast all at once. My hand trembles as I knock on her door.
She opens the door in tiny sleep shorts and a crop top that shows a strip of bare skin at her waist. I clench my jaw.
"Hey," she says, opening the door wider to let me inside. Then, she moves to the dark green, velvet couch in the center of the room. Friends plays on the TV nestled between two bookshelves, filled to the brim with novels and photos - some of her and with what I assume are family and friends and some of a smaller girl, who I assume must be her roommate.
"Hi," I reply, my voice cracking a little.
"You can come in," She says as she leans back on the sofa, crossing one long leg over the other. She mutes the TV.
"I don't do this usually."
"Neither do I. I'm not… impulsive." She taps one finger on the couch. I shut the door behind me and move to sit next to her. Angle myself toward her. "We can just watch TV. Hang out."
I'm grateful for her offer, but I keep eyeing the little strip of skin between her shorts and her top. My fingers twitch at my side.
"What do you want to do?" She breathes, noticing how my eyes are trailing over her body.
"Bella," my eyes move up to hers. I lean toward her. "I don't do this. Like ever. I don't…" I shake my head and lean toward her, placing my arm on the back of the couch. "I don't do well at separating sex from emotions."
"Same," she responds, her spearmint breath fanning over my face. I remember how that tasted on my tongue.
"So, erm. Would that be a problem?" I ask, my eyes roaming her face, counting the freckles across the bridge of her nose.
"Would what be a problem?" She leans closer to me, her right hand fidgeting with the zipper on my jacket.
"Emotions?" My voice cracks when her fingers tug and the zipper comes down.
"I have those." She whispers.
"Me too," I say as I kiss her lips softly. The sound of the zipper fills the silence of the room. Her tongue brushes against my lower lip as she pushes the jacket off of me. I move away from her lips. "Emotions for me?" I ask, and I can't help but kiss along her jaw.
"Yeah," she admits, voice breathy. "Ruined my date earlier this week."
I pull back to look at her face, her hooded eyes. The fingers of my right hand trail along the fabric of her impossibly small sleep shorts. "Really?" I ask, a smile playing on my lips.
"Mhm." She watches as my fingers dip below the waistband of her shorts. "He leaned in to kiss me and all I could think about was you." I move my hand to her thigh and drag my fingertips up and under. I realize she's not wearing underwear and I suppress a gasp.
Instead, proud of myself for maintaining my cool exterior, I ask softly, "And what did you think about?" I lean forward until I cover her body with mine, push her down onto the cushions.
She kisses me breathless. Stops. "Doing that."
I inch one finger to her core, feeling it already slick and impossibly warm. A groan snakes its way out of my throat. "And this?" I ask, my voice gritty, strange to my own ears.
"Yes." She moves her hips under my touch and I move so I can pull her shorts down to her knees, then her ankles.
Creamy, soft skin is all I see and all I feel. "Fuck, Bella, are you pretty everywhere?"
A breathy laugh escapes her lips. "Did you think about me?" She asks as I lean down.
"When?" My hands spread her legs apart.
Her breath hitches. "All night."
"Yes," I confess, my lips brushing against her inner thigh. "Every night since I first saw you."
"About this?" She asks, her voice so, so quiet and unsure.
I trail my lips up to her core, taste her on my tongue. "Yes," I answer; the rumble of my voice against her clit makes her moan.
"Shit," she breathes, her hands flying to my hair. She tugs and I lick against her, swirl my tongue around her clit, try out everything in my repertoire to see what makes her buck against my mouth. I suck lightly and then insert one finger inside of her, then two, until she's writhing above me, her breaths gasping and moaning.
"Come on my tongue," I whisper against her, thrusting a third finger inside of her until she nearly screams, a hand thrown over her mouth to muffle it.
When I pull back, she flushes completely - from cheeks to chest - and throws an arm over her eyes.
"What?" I ask, wiping the taste of her from my chin with my thumb.
"I don't do this," she whispers, shaking her head. "I don't do hookups."
"This is far from a hookup," I clarify, pulling her arm from her eyes. "I intend to take you out to dinner and give you free coffee anytime you want. I intend to do this," I say as I suck the fingers that were inside of her into my mouth, "as often as you let me."
Her pupils are blown wide. My cock strains against my jeans. "Fuck me," she says softly.
"Is that like, "oh, fuck, that was hot," or like, "fuck me until I scream?" I ask, holding back but hoping for the latter.
"Both. Yes."
"Where's your bedroom?"
We are a mess of limbs and flying clothing as we scramble into her bedroom; I can't stop kissing her - her lips, the freckles on the tops of her shoulders, her rosy nipples. When I have her laying out in front of me, able to see all of her, I trace the curve of her breasts with my fingertips. I whisper, "You really are pretty everywhere."
Then she pulls me down and uses her legs to flip me over so I'm flat on my back. I watch as she fumbles in her nightstand, climbs back on top of me, and in one smooth motion, tears open the condom wrapper with her teeth and rolls it on over my straining dick.
I can't help but moan at the feeling of her fingers touching me, grasping me at my base. She smirks up at me and moves sinuously until she's straddling me, sliding down on top of me, and the heat is everything. I twitch inside of her and she sucks in a shaky breath.
When she starts to move, I watch as I slide in and out of her, watch hungrily as her breasts bounce rhythmically with the slow movement. Then, my hands are on her, pinching and rolling her nipples, so that she gasps and moans and picks up the pace.
"I need to fuck you harder." I ask, gritting my teeth so my jaw ticks.
"Please."
I grab her hips roughly and hold her up so I can pound into her from below. The sound of our bodies slapping against each other fills the room. She trails one hand down to her clit, the other wraps around the base of my neck to hold her up while she grinds on me.
It's the hottest thing I've ever done. She's the hottest thing I've ever seen.
And my chest - the feeling in my chest is so full, is so bright… light pumps through my veins with every thump of my heartbeat.
I spill inside of her so hard that my vision goes black and fuzzy stars dance behind my eyelids. She shudders on top of me a moment later and I feel her collapse into my arms, our bodies both slick with sweat.
"Holy shit," she breathes against my neck.
"I think you've ruined me." I pant. "You're too perfect. Too soft, too sexy, too pretty. Too everything." That feeling in my chest grows, consumes. "I can't fuck anyone else ever again."
She chuckles against my skin and rolls off of me.
I look at her seriously, already missing the feeling of her bare skin on mine. "I mean it."
Her eyes soften as she gazes back at me. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." We both grin.
"Ten out of ten?"
"Understatement."
