Under a lot of shy
I don't know if she knows how crazy she makes me
If she's going, I'm sure coming
And I don't have to ask where
I don't know what I'd do without my unhinged muse
He finishes and smiles at me almost shyly. I am speechless. The song is beautiful and it’s so him.
"There's a whole bunch for you to sing too, but I just wanted to sing the park I wrote with you in mind. Do you like it?"
I stand up from the couch and rush over to kiss him. I almost knock him down as I put my whole body into it. He laughs against my lips.
“I guess you liked it.”
I nod and wipe the tears away from my eyes.
He pulls me against him and I smile. Finally, I think. It’s going to happen.
“You know the last time we were in this position…” I don’t get to finish what I say because Charlie has locked his lips to mine in a possessive wet kiss that leaves my legs shaking. My back is pressed against the wall as I give in. My neck arches up to reach his mouth that’s fused to mine taking, taking, taking. I wonder what else Charlie will be taking from me. My chest heaves from exertion and his palms cup my face keeping me flush against his body.
“The last time what, Addie?” His forehead presses against mine blocking out my sight of him, and I feel his smile rather than see it. The creases in his cheeks moon into a smile and my fingertips tug his chin down so I can better reach him for a kiss of my own. The last time we were in this position he took my virginity and I loved it. The anticipation of tonight fills me with a new-found lust. This part of me is everything I hadn’t expected. I actually crave sex and I didn’t know that I would. It’s even more exciting that we’re in the studio together.
I try changing the subject to appease my nervous energy, “So did you write that song just to get in my pants?” I tease. The song is amazing, nothing less than perfect and if Charlie wasn’t with me right now I might pinch myself to make sure this is all real. Does anyone really write songs for their girlfriends anymore besides dorky middle schoolers? I expected a mixtape of some cheesy classic rock, but an entire song I can call my own makes my knees wobble and my panties melt from being totally blown away.
“Your pants? How about this skirt your wearing?” Charlie’s hands rest on my hips making a slow descent downward grasping the fabric and helping it ride up my thighs. The pads of his fingers are rough and the tactile sensation sends tingles down my spine to settle low in the secret center between my legs that aches just like it did the last time we were in this position.
I clear my throat as his finger makes a lazy stroke of my center over damp cotton. “What about it?” I’m not a virgin any longer and being coy isn’t the style I want to portray anymore but everything is still too new for me to guess what he’ll do next.
He nips at my shoulder speaking, “I’d like to get my hands under it and sink inside of you if that’s alright, sweetheart.”
I gasp feeling his short nails graze my sensitive skin and I clamp my legs together in a weak effort to halt his exploratory hands on their current expedition.
I weakly push at his hands that stop, but don’t move anywhere. I’m just playing with him. It makes him push forward even more.
“Ah…”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He chuckles and removes his wicked digits of pleasure leaving me panting and hanging on the edge of the couch. He goes to the front of the building and locks the door. When he comes back he shuts the door to the back room and locks it as well.
I slip my shoes off and pull my legs up on the leather sofa that started this whole seduction in the first place. I smile as I remember the song he wrote for me.
“Drink?” He says and I realize he has a six-pack in the small fridge at the studio.
“Sure.” I plop down trying to cool my head. He sits next to me, his body pressing against me from shoulder to hip right down to our knees as he hands me a matching beer. I take a drink not loving the thick fizz that palpitates on my tongue as I swallow the bitter brew down. It’s alright, but I can think of some better things to drink than this swill Charlie seems to favor. I never told him I prefer wine. There’s still so much more we don’t know abo
ut each other.
Our eyes meet and I watch him take a long drag of the beer finishing it off quickly. I follow suit praying I don’t gag on it or embarrass myself further. Our bottles clink on the coffee table and as soon as I’m leaning back up, Charlie pushes me to lay back on the couch.
“Subtle move Casanova.”
He chuckles looking up for a moment before back down at me as if he’s lost in some deep thought.
He shrugs, “I know what I want.”
I swallow back the long question and settle for a single word instead, “And?”