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He follows me into the kitchen.
Not knowing where the popcorn is, I stop and settle against the counter near the sink. Glancing up I can see a quiet amusement in his eyes. I wonder what exactly is going through his mind.
He walks toward me. He’s staring into my eyes with a silent promise that makes my stomach flutter. I feel like I’ve missed the transition where we went from casually discussing our movie options to this smoldering look he’s giving me. He glides a few steps forward, bringing his body inches from mine. My heart is suddenly pounding in my chest. I can feel the heat from his body, and the smell of him so close is doing nothing to cool the fire igniting inside of me. Still watching me, he raises his left hand up slowly and softly grazes his fingers across my shoulder. Then his gaze shifts past me, behind me.
He opens the cabinet and pulls down the popcorn.
He steps away, and I let out the breath I’d apparently been holding. Opening the package, his eyes briefly flicker to me and I can see the smirk growing from the corner of his mouth. God, he’s playing with me.
I have a moment to consider him, this man who, though I met him only two days ago, has been in my thoughts and fantasies for the last several years of our online friendship. Thus far, our two days spent together have been relatively platonic. Flirting, innuendos and a few friendly embraces, but he hadn’t even hinted that this aura of sexuality existed below the surface. Less than thirty seconds of his full attention and he already has me aroused, wanting more and wondering what the the fuck just happened.
I think I underestimated him.
“Were you thinking action?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts.
Umm.. I swallow. “Action?” I reply, confused.
“You know, the movie,” he tosses the popcorn in the microwave and gets it started. Leaning back on the adjacent counter, he shifts his heavy gaze back to me. I can see the smile in his eyes. I can feel his smug satisfaction as he notes how easily he’d rendered me defenseless. It’s not really fair, though; he took me by batıkent escort surprise — I’m usually much more together than this.
I clear my throat and idly pick up the discarded wrapper. “Sure, I’m up for whatever, so if you have something in mind, let’s do it.”
His eyes sparkle and shift back to the predatory smolder of a moment ago. Instantly my temperature is rising and I can feel my pulse sparking flames throughout my body. ‘Let’s do it’ echoes in my mind and I feel my own smirk slide into place as I note the dual-meaning. Oh. I change gears and shift my weight forward, away from the counter, turning so that I face him. I tilt my chin down and look up at him through my eyelashes. I allow the heat in my body to fill my eyes and automatically my mouth parts slightly. I lick my lips and glance down at his, tilting my head to align with his mouth. I lean in, and when I feel his breath against my mouth, I take a breath of my own. God he smells so good. Just the heat of him is intoxicating.
Before I exhale, I catch his eye again. I raise my hand and whisper, “where’s the garbage?”
He blinks, and looks at the wrapper in my hand. He puts his hands on my hips to rock me away from him so he can get to the trash can. Heat races up my torso and my breath catches in my chest. His hands linger there and I feel his fingers trace up my waistline. They play lightly against my sides for a beat before he releases me and opens the cabinet behind him, containing the hidden receptacle. The brief touch lingers on my skin, quietly smoldering.
I watch him as I throw away the plastic. He’s wary of me now, I can see it in his eyes. Yet also there is a new expression there. I try to read it…
Hunger.
The popcorn is done. Time to leave the kitchen.
I wonder what I’ve gotten myself into.
—
He’s sitting so close that each breath fills my lungs with his scent, leaving me dizzy and distracted enough that I’ve completely lost track of the movie.
When I’d followed him into the living room, beşevler escort I hadn’t considered how tense I’d be sitting next to him after the little game we’d just played in the kitchen. We’d been completely casual since two days ago when I’d arrived from Seattle. Having known each other for years through a social networking site, we’d had thousands of meaningful conversations, flirted, teased, and gotten to know each other fairly thoroughly. Online, I had noted that his naughty nature was on par with my own. However, thus far our in-person conversations hadn’t been very sexual.
Until the silent conversation of a few minutes ago.
At present, we both have our eyes on the television, although I find myself wondering if he’s watching it any more than I am. My legs are crossed indian-style underneath me, and my right knee is dangerously close to his left leg. For the past several minutes, I’ve been replaying the last scene in my mind and wondering what he is thinking. Was that just a game back there? Should I just calm down? I do tend to over-analyze, so maybe he was just teasing me and I should focus my attention back on the movie.
I quietly sigh and squint my eyes at the screen, forcing my attention on the film, but less than a minute later, my eyes have drifted back to the millimeters that are between my leg and his. The electric heat between our bodies tingles momentarily. Last night, on this same couch, we had sat together and I hadn’t even noted the space between us. Now, with the memory of his heavy, meaningful gaze fresh in my mind, it’s all I can think about.
From the corner of my eye, I catch him steal a glance at me. I swallow as he moves his left hand to rest on his knee. His idly scratches at his jeans for a moment, and then relaxes, leaving his hand there. I release the breath I’d held.
I need to calm down.
As soon as I think this, his fingers cross the space between us and come to rest gently on my knee. My already rigid frame solidifies and I don’t move as he ever so slowly trails büyükesat ankara his fingertips along the seams and folds of my jeans. The electric heat that had tingled minutes ago now burns white-hot where his fingers touch.
My heart rate increases, and a flush spreads up my neck. As he leisurely traces the seam leading from my knee up towards my inner thigh, my stomach flutters with an army of butterflies, and I suddenly have to see his expression.
I expect to see him turned toward the screen, pretending he isn’t teasing me with his idle hand, but instead I turn my head and find his penetrating gaze completely focused on me. There’s a seriousness to his expression that tightens things low inside me, while intimidating me at the same time. While I had definitely fantasized about the possibilities of meeting him in person, I don’t think I’d prepared myself for just how sexy he is. My confidence, typically a strength of mine, feels weak when under the pressure of the heavy look in his eyes. But, taking a deep breath, I try to swim toward the surface of this hot-spring of desire. I can do better.
“What are you thinking?” he surprises me by asking.
I hesitate. After a moment, he changes positions as if to wait out my silence, twisting around so that his left arm rests on the back of the couch, while his right hand takes over tracing feather-light patterns on my thigh. As nervous as I am right now, I’m also thrilled, not to mention: aroused. I’m not sure if I’d ever mentioned to him that I don’t often wear underwear; I regret not wearing any tonight. I must be soaking through my jeans.
He tickles my neck, playing with a strand of hair that’s hanging down from where the rest is pulled up with a clip. He traces a line of liquid fire gently down the side of my neck and across my right shoulder.
“I’ve never seen your tattoos before…” he says idly.
I watch him, realizing I haven’t moved or answered his previous question. He’s looking at his fingers as they trace imaginary lines of my feather tattoos across my upper back. His eyes flick up to meet mine. They hold all the promise of dominance and sex.
“I’m going to see them tonight.”
Oh. God.
“Uh, I’ll be right back.” I stand up with weak knees — either from my sitting position or from him, I don’t know — and I turn my back on him and walk to the bathroom, shutting myself in.
Damn. This could get interesting.
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