Page 72 of Falling for You

Brat. Cute.

Shit. I think I have a crush on my girlfriend.

“Eh. Only a little bit.”

She lets out a little bit of sweet laughter and I grin into the phone. “Well, I don’t know. What would I be doing? If I helped, I mean?”

“Painting faces for the kids. And, I suppose adults, too, if they wanted it done.”

“How do you know I can do this?”

“Because I saw your notepad full of doodles in your kitchen.”

“You’re so nosey.”

I laugh and don’t deny it. I am nosey when it comes to her. I want to know everything. “Well, in my defense, it wasn’t like I went snooping. I just saw the top piece of paper covered in little drawings.”

“It’s just me drawing, messing around, you know?”

“So? We’re not expecting anything crazy, just simple stuff on their cheeks or whatever you can manage. But, that’s about it. Not bartending or serving or anything like that.” And being there with me. Showing my friends that I’m serious about someone. Her. Easing my nerves about the fact that I’m losing my mind over a woman. Hopefully letting everyone at The Flying Goat know that Rex Matthews is off the market because he has a new girlfriend and her name is Chloe Garcia.

“Sounds fun. I’ll do it.” She actually sounds excited, which makes me really happy.

“Yeah? Awesome. I’ll tell him.”

“What are you doing later? Are you working?”

“At the bar, you mean?”

“Yeah.”

“No. I’m home. Why? What’d you have in mind?”

“A few things,” she teases and I can hear the smile in her voice.

“Like?” I prompt. We’ve been dancing around physically taking things further since that first night I showed up on her doorstep. Every time we’re together, we take more steps, test our limits. A lot of heavy petting, making out, and ‘I can’t get enough of you’ whispers as our lips do their best to stay permanently attached. I want more like I want my next breath, but I want what we have to last.

I’m acting like a scared little bitch about it and allowing my past to get in my head. I know this. She knows it, but I think she’s also okay with waiting. At least, she hasn’t seemed unsatisfied.

A few nights ago, things got heated between us. Orgasms were had, to put it bluntly. Both of us. Together. It was one of the hottest sexual experiences I’ve ever had in my life. And it was all very PG-13. But we took our time, learning what each other likes.

We’d spent so much time together in her home, that I decided it was time to introduce her to mine. The day we took the car for the drive, we didn’t hang around my house for very long, and while I gave her a brief tour which included some time in my computer room where she gave me a raft of shit over how many I have, that was the extent of our time here.

Two nights ago, I invited her over for dinner. Temperatures in Michigan can be finicky in October and it was one of the rare warm evenings. I was in the mood for a steak, so we threw a couple on the grill and sat outside while we ate.

As the cool night air set in, we moved inside and stretched out on my couch. One thing led to another, and we were both stripping out of our clothes. Even though neither of us took off our underwear and she left her bra on, there was something incredibly sexy about the entire evening. Maybe that contributed to it, actually. The fact that there was an air of mystery between us. When she slipped a hand under the waistband of my boxers, there was no turning back for me. I couldn’t have stopped what happened next if my house had caught fire.

Her small hand had gripped me while my fingers pushed aside her underwear, teasing her clit, pinching lightly. She made it clear I was not to go anywhere else and wasn’t shy in the least to let me know she had her period. Never has a woman been so open and honest with me, especially when it comes to discussing anything remotely personal like their cycle. Obviously, I know women get their periods. It’s part of their make up, so I never understood why they’d get embarrassed about it.

When we both came, me only a few seconds after she exploded, I laid there panting, willing the blood flow to eventually return to my brain. Then she started giggling and I was suddenly self-conscious, which made her laugh even harder.

“What are you laughing at?”

“That was… it’s not bad laughter, I promise. I just wasn’t expecting it and hadn’t shaved or waxed but I didn’t care because holy hell, that was even better than I thought it’d be. And your penis wasn’t even in my vagina!”

I blink and repeat, “My penis wasn’t even in your vagina,” I deadpan.

“I know!” she shouts as if the conversation we’re having is normal. It’s not. Not even a little bit. I’ve never had a woman talk to me about my penis being in her vagina before. “Rex, holy crap. That was one of the most intense orgasms I’ve ever had and look! My stuff is still covered! How did youdothat?”

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