I pulled up the movies menu on Netflix and began scrolling through it.
"Ooh," I said. "Saving Private Ryan. That's supposed to be a classic. Can you believe I've never actually seen it?"
His face changed instantly, and his smile vanished, replaced with a look that was cool and detached. He shook his head.
"No war movies," he mumbled.
I had obviously struck a nerve that made me instantly wonder what kind of past this man had that he could just shrug off a gunshot wound and refused to watch war movies? He had to have been a soldier. He had to have been. I wanted to ask him about it, but judging from the look that came over his face when I had even brought up that movie, I guessed it was a pretty sensitive subject, so I left it alone.
"Hmm, alright, no war movies. Well, let's keep scrolling... Here we go, The Hangover 3; you fine with that?"
His smile returned as quickly as it had disappeared, and he nodded.
"Sounds great. Let's put it on."
"Alright.
Before I do, though, would you like some popcorn?"
"Sure."
"How do you like it?" I asked.
"Loads of salt, loads of butter."
I chuckled. "That doesn't seem like the kind of thing a fitness freak who does seven miles every morning should be eating."
"It's a cheat day," he replied with a cheeky grin.
"Alright, in that case, I'll go fix us a nice bowl of popcorn."
"You do that."
I went to the kitchen and made a bowl of popcorn, and brought it back to the living room. We put the movie on, and then settled on the sofa and started watching. The laughter soon began flowing, and any tension that had existed melted away. After a few minutes, I shifted closer to him. In response, he slid his arm around my shoulder and pulled me in even closer.
"You know, Vivienne," he said, adjusting his focus from the movie to me. "I'm glad you gave me a second chance. Thank you."
"I am, too," I replied looking up to meet the intensity of his gaze.
Electricity ricocheted between us as Everett’s hand settled around the base of my neck and he moved in for the kiss. Our lips met, and it just felt like it was meant to be. He began by kissing me slowly and gently at first, his tongue exploring my mouth with an almost inquisitive nature. As our tongues danced, shivers of pleasure began traveling along my skin. I responded by nibbling on his lower lip, teasing with my teeth, which seemed to elicit a positive response. His kisses grew more passionate as he pressed his tongue deeper and more forcefully into my mouth, all while pulling me into a tighter embrace.
I wrapped my arms around his broad back tracing my hands along the lines of his unbelievably hard and firm muscles. My fingertips delighted in the strength they found beneath his firm skin as explosions of bliss detonated in me.
As we leaned back on the sofa more, kissing deeply and pressing our bodies tighter together, he tentatively slipped his hands under my blouse, moving them with soft, gentle fingertips up over my belly.
"Is this okay?" he whispered in my ear as he moved his hands over me and planted warm kisses along my neck.
"You have no idea," I whispered back, feeling the heat of arousal pumping through me.
"Oh, I think I have a pretty damn good idea," he mumbled back.
He slipped his hands up over my sides, sending shivers of pleasure trickling across my skin, and then up behind my back as he unclipped my bra with deft fingers. With the bra loose, he moved his hands back around onto my breasts, still kissing me deeply and passionately. I couldn't help but let out a gasp of pleasure.
He began to caress them, gently at first, just teasing and almost testing them out, his fingertips working with a building pressure that sent wave after wave of bliss surging through me. I slipped my hands under his shirt, discovering the hard ridges of his abdominal muscles, which caused him to shudder with pleasure. I then began to move one hand up onto his broad and powerful chest. I couldn't help but marvel at just how chiseled he was. Real men, in my experience, didn’t have bodies like this.
My nipples had begun to swell and stiffen with pleasure at his touch, and with his skilled fingers he started massaging and playing with them, causing jolts of joy and intense bursts of pleasure to tear through my whole chest. Suddenly, I was feeling another swelling, this one at the meeting of my thighs, where a hot wetness was growing and spreading. It was a sensation I hadn't felt for longer than I cared to think about. An intense hunger for him started to grow with a powerful force inside me.
I gasped softly and moaned as his fingers began taking me closer and closer to an orgasm and the man hadn’t even touched me below the waist. It was amazing how skilled he was with only his touch. I began to imagine how skilled he had to be with other parts of himself.