"Since you were too distracted to tell me what you wanted to eat," he announced as he came in, "I got a little bit of everything." He had, too. His hands were full of various take-away bags, and I could hear the awful scratching noise of multiple styrofoam containers rubbing against one another. "We have Chinese, tacos, burgers, and fries."
I was pretty sure more beautiful words had never been spoken.
"This time, you pick the movie," he announced, walking over to the bed to take things out of the bags, opening the tops, and filling the room with far too much goodness to even go about describing. If there was a heaven, I was pretty sure it would smell like all your favorite foods, together, at once. At least, that was what I hoped.
"I picked everything all day," I immediately objected.
"And now you're picking the movie. Be good, or you don't get to get the surprise I got for you while you were away in your panel thing," he teased, immediately making me turn.
"Surprise?"
"After we eat," he said with one of his big smiles as he moved to sit up on the bed, tossing a set of disposable utensils at me. "Pick your movie."
With a surprise on the line, I surely did.
And he had to sit through what, in my opinion, was a truly under-rated book-themed movie. It was a little ditty starring Will Ferrell, Emma Thompson, and Maggie Gyllenhaal called Stranger Than Fiction.
"He brought her flours!" I declared as the credits rolled. "Flours. Because she's a baker. It's the cutest thing ever."
"Alright, that was pretty fucking cute," he agreed, giving me a smirk as he folded up to close the tops of the food that was mostly eaten. He moved to store the rest in the mini fridge that was actually located in the TV cabinet, and I totally didn't know existed until he pulled it open to do so. "So, are you ready for your surprise?"
"I dunno. Am I ready for the two new J.K. Rowling books that she just announced?"
He smiled at that too. "I'll take that as a yes."
"Take it as a heck yes," I shot back.
He went into a dresser drawer with his back to me, turning to face me, holding up a t-shirt I hadn't seen at the merch stands.
Likely, because, on closer inspection, it was personalized.
And it was just so perfect.
All white, except the front was an old-school library card insert from a book. That wasn't the crazy part though.
No.
The crazy part was that under the borrower's name category, there were the signatures of a bunch of my favorite authors. Under the date due spots, were the dates when their first books were published. And at the top was my name.
Alright.
So maybe my eyes glistened a little.
Fine.
A lot.
Possibly, a few of them actually spilled over to trail down my cheeks, which actually made Cy smile.
"Guess I did good, huh?"
Most of my life, I was careful, always thinking things through, always a bit standoffish.
But there were rare occasions when there was no holding back the feelings and urges that were threatening to tear me apart if I didn't let them out.
This was one of those times.
I shot off the bed, arms going up around his neck, pulling him down, and kissing him with absolutely everything within me.
He'd almost seemed taken aback at first, stiffening, lips a bit pliant. But it was just for a second before one of his arms went around my lower back, pulling me flush to him. The other went to the back of my neck, holding on.
He turned suddenly, slamming me back against the wall as his tongue moved in to claim mine. His hands went up, grabbing my wrists, then pinning them back against the wall as his lips pulled from mine to trail down my cheek, jaw, ear, neck. Even as a shiver coursed through me at the feel of his tongue tracing the column of my neck, his mouth was back on mine, harder, more demanding, borderline bruising.
It was so different from what he had given me before - softness, patience, sweetness. And while those were great as well, this was scorching, making my body arch, making my arms fight their imprisonment, wanting to run my hands over him, wanting to pull his hips to mine, to feel his hardness were I needed it most.
After what seemed like a lifetime, he finally released them as his hands moved down to slide up under the material of my tee, his calloused skin moving over my soft belly, sending off shocks over the surface of my skin. Then stopped just under the band of my bra, his hands spanning my ribcage as his teeth nipped my lower lip.
And as the moan escaped my lips, his hands closed over my breasts, squeezing almost to the point of pain before moving upward, impatiently grabbing the tops of the cups, and ripping them downward to expose my skin to his greedy touch.