Falling in Love (Rockford Falls 5)

“I like seeing you happy,” I admitted, “And I got you something. It’s not a big deal but I’m pretty proud of it anyway. Here.”

I got up from the table and went and got the cardboard mailing tube from the hall closet and handed it to her.

“What’s this? You have helped me so much and then you ordered all those books for the library. You didn’t have to do this,” she said, obviously flustered.

Michelle pried the plastic cap from one in and reached inside. She pulled out the coil of glossy paper carefully. Once she had prized it from the tube, she unrolled it.

“The fox! You found the fox?”

“No, I had it printed from a photo. I found a used one online but it was ratty. So I just had a new one made.”

“What photo? I don’t even think I have a picture of it.”

“A picture from when I was a kid. I knew I did the summer reading program at the library a couple times, and my mom had saved a clipping from the newspaper that I was in the group picture and the poster was in the background.”

“You had it printed from an old newspaper clipping? Wow.”

“Not exactly. I sort of called the newspaper office and got them to get the original negative out of the archives and we printed and scanned it and zoomed in on the poster. I think it turned out pretty well considering it’s a copy of a copy.”

“It’s perfect. I can’t believe you went to all that trouble. You called your mom, and the paper, and had them find an old photo?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“To see that smile on your face,” I said simply.

She was grinning from ear to ear, the poster stretched out in front of her. She rolled it up and set it on the table. Then she stood up and kissed my cheek, stretching onto her tiptoes.

“Thank you, Drew,” she said.

“You’re welcome.”

“I love it.”

She was hovering right against me after kissing my cheek. It took me a second to realize she was waiting to be kissed. I didn’t waste another moment after that. I slipped my fingers into her blonde hair and tipped her face up to mine and kissed her.

21

Michelle

Drew replaced the vintage fox poster about reading that hung in my office. The one that was ruined by the storm damage. The one I’ve always loved. He went through like seven different steps to get a new poster made for me that was just like the one I lost. It was perfect and glossy and brand new. It was like a fresh start with the thing I loved that had been torn up. I felt like there was a metaphor going on for starting over with Drew, for something being beautiful and whole again. It felt amazing.

I kissed his cheek. Then I lingered there, my shoulder brushing his arm until he took the hint. Drew brushed back my hair and kissed me, a sweet kiss, one that matched the thoughtful gift and making me dinner. I pulled back from him.

“Okay, that’s the I’m-a-sweet-boyfriend kiss. I like it. Really. But could I get the we’re-lovers-but-no-one-can-know kiss instead?” I said playfully.

One thing about Drew, he wasn’t playing around. He went so hard on that kiss that he rocked me back off my feet, his mouth on mine, his tongue searing my mouth with urgent, erotic strokes. I held on to his shoulder to keep from melting to the floor. He was that good of a kisser, and it was that blatantly sexual from the start.

Drew picked me up and set me on the table. I leaned back on my arms and watched as he pulled up a chair and sat down, my legs on either side of him. He unfastened my jeans and peeled them off with me lifting my hips to help. Then he draped my legs one over each of his shoulders and pulled me closer until my hips rested on the edge of the table. Drew slid one hand up my thigh, grabbed my panties and just ripped them off. I caught my breath.

“I’ll buy you new ones. Those were in my way,” he said archly. I shivered a little in anticipation because my bare sex was inches from his lush mouth. I leaned back on my elbows, bracing myself as he ran his tongue up my sex all the way to my clit in one smooth stroke. Drew’s tongue was hot and wet, rough and sexy. I clenched involuntarily at the first lick. Then he set his lips over my clit and started kissing me there, his lips and tongue and occasionally his teeth working my swollen clit until I was writhing and mewing under his ministrations.

I begged him never to stop, to keep eating me out until I came. I was desperate, losing my mind with hunger for him. He pulled me up to sit on the edge of the table, bet my legs as he surged up from the chair and mouthed my nipple through my silk blouse. I loved the hot wet fabric clinging to my hard nipple, the nip of his teeth through the yellow silk, the sexy edge to his sucking and licking my breasts. With one hand he fondled my breast, rubbing the nipple, cupping the whole breast and kneading it in a sensuous torment. When he had sucked and nipped my nipple into a painful, sharp point, he moved to the other breast and did the same, setting me so hard on edge that my teeth chattered. I wanted more, but I wasn’t sure I could take it. I was telling him to stop, that it was too much.