Wrapping my arms around her back, I hold her against me and thrust myself up inside her. Her thighs start to shake and I feel her entire body give out above me as she moans against my neck.
Giving one last thrust, my shaft bursts in her pussy. Pump after pump of come fills her, dripping back down my length. The warm come pools around my base as we both lay still, breathing heavy.
Her heart is racing, I can feel it as it beats against my chest. Her fingers are still tangled in my hair as she tries to sit up, but I refuse to let her. I don't want to let her go.
The thought of this ending makes my chest tight, forming a pit in my stomach.
Knock, knock, knock.
Lifting my head up to the sound and opening my eyes, the first thing I do is look for her. I'm alone. I'm still in my clothes from the night before, laying on top of the covers.
It was a dream. . . A cruel fucking dream.
Rolling onto my back, I scratch my fingers through my hair and yawn. Another fucking dream that is so real I swear I can still smell her perfume on my blanket. Groaning, I wipe my hands down my face and blink my eyes a couple times.
Knock, knock, knock.
Lifting my head, I listen. It sounds like someone is at my door, but that can't be right. No one comes here. People know better. Even over the past week, the few people I normally exchange a few words with were met with frustrated grunts.
I haven't been in the mood for anything. Especially having a conversation. I don't like talking to people on a normal day, but I play nice, I give the forced smile and casual niceties so people don't see me as a total asshole.
They still see me as something. I've heard what they think of me.
But I have to sell my art. Luckily, the internet has made it a whole lot easier for me. I can sell more without having to even see the client face to face.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Growling, I yell, “I'm coming, hold the fuck on!” With reluctant steps, I head down the stairs to the front door.
I swear, if this someone trying to sell me a damn vacuum, I'm going to slam my door in their face.
Yanking the door open, I snap, “What?”
My jaw drops and my eyes widen as the shock hits me.
“Is this a bad time?”
She's here. I'm tempted to pinch myself, but instead I rub my eyes.
“Melody?”
“I'm sorry. If this is a bad time, I'll leave.”
I'm almost speechless. She's the last person I'd expect to see on my doorstep. “No, it's fine, I just didn't expect you.”
“I would have called first, but you never gave me your number.” She giggles, and fuck that damn giggle makes my blood hot.
My mind is racing. I don't even know what to say. Her hands are folded across her waist and she's rocking back and forth on her heels. Her eyes dart around my face, then look out at the woods surrounding my home.
“Beautiful place you got here,” she says softly.
“Thank you.” That's it. That's all I say.
There's an awkwardness between us. I can feel it, making the air so thick you could cut it with a knife.
“So, are you going to invite me in?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Stepping out of the way, I open the door wider. “Come on in.”
As she walks past me, I catch the scent of lilac and lavender. Her hair is in a loose braid, and she has a little hint of makeup on. Nothing crazy, just a light bronze shadow and some mascara.
It's subtle, but enough to make her eyes jump out even more. My fingers itch at my side to wrap her braid around my fist, and my lips tingle to kiss her.
Clearing my throat, I ask, “You want some coffee or something?”
“No, I'm all right. Thank you, though.”
My eyes lick up and down her body. In tight jean shorts and a black tank-top, I notice she has a bandage around her ankle.
“How's your ankle?” I ask.
“It's fine, just a sprain. Nothing broken, which is good.”
“Good, I'm glad to hear that.”
Say something! Tell her what you feel!
There are a million things I want to say to her, but I can't. This girl is only eighteen, she hasn't even started her life yet. I can't tell her how she's all I can think about. I can't tell her that my heart speeds up when I picture her face or how my stomach flips when I think about the night we shared.
She'd think I'm crazy. I don't need another rumor to start.
I'm twenty-eight, I know my place in this world. I know who I am and where I belong. She hasn't even dipped a toe in the water yet.