Page 35 of Not Your Basic Love Story

“That’s nice of you to say.”

I turned around and rested my arms on his chest, looking deep into his eyes. “I’m serious,” I smiled. “I’ve never met anyone like you before. I’m so lucky.”

He closed his eyes and kissed me. Our lips moved as one, soft, gentle as if they had all the time in the world and planned to take it. He pulled his lips away but rested his forehead against mine, his thumb tracing the edge of my jaw. “I’m the lucky one.”

We withdrew from our little moment of paradise and made our way back up to the house. Dinner was served, and Dev took a small piece of pineapple-flavoured chicken to be polite even though I told him it wasn’t necessary. He was very complimentary about everything, which made my mom blush (I got my blushing genes from her). As always, conversation flowed naturally as my parents got to know him. I sat there, mostly quiet, watching my parents as they interacted with Dev, how he answered their questions and returned many of his own.

“I got dishes tonight, honey,” Dad announced, standing. “Want to help me, Squirt?”

I nodded. Dad kissed my mom on the cheek, and the two of us began clearing the table while my mom escorted Dev to the living room. I wasn’t totally comfortable leaving him with her unsupervised; I tried to pick up pieces of their conversation in case I needed to interject and change the subject.

Judging by the laughter on both my mom's and Dev’s account, I didn’t have to worry. Whatever those two were talking about, it was obvious they were having a great time. Dad and I stood next to each other at the sink in relative silence, enjoying each other’s company without needing to talk. My dad was a quiet guy like that.

Everything was going great. Why had I been worried? My parents were both good people, and Dev had the incredible ability to make any possibly awkward situation feel totally and completely relaxed.

Once the dishes were finished, my dad served Nanaimo bars for dessert. I helped him carry the little squares out to the living room, only to find that my mom had fished out the family photo albums. That was what they’d been carrying on about! It was too late now; they were already into my elementary school years. I had not been an attractive child. If Dev had ever considered making babies with me, surely this would dissuade him.

Dev sat between my mom and I as she flipped through laminate pages of a geeky girl with short-cropped bangs and braces, wearing a teal and pink windbreaker and pig-tail braids. It was the 90’s. We didn’t know any better.

Teenage Rebecca wasn’t much of an improvement. There were pictures of Miranda and me riding bikes, down on the water in kayaks, and standing together with cheesy grins at the school dance. I took a few shots on my phone and texted them to her.

“Oh hey, look at that!” I said, tapping a picture. It was me at the science fair. It still stung that I’d lost to Aaron Weiner, of all people. “My eavestrough water turbine. Too bad it didn’t work. I’d have won first place, for sure.”

“What is it?” Dev inquired, leaning in to get a better look.

“It’s like a little hydro dam. You replace the downspouts on your eavestroughs on your house and when the water runs through it the little turbines inside turn, generating electricity. We get so much rain here that solar panels don’t work as effectively, but I figured we could take advantage of all the rain and take houses off-grid.”

Dev raised his eyebrows. “Sounds impressive.”

Dad looked thoughtful. “I think I still have it somewhere.”

“Do you think you could make it work now?” Dev asked.

I shook my head. “I’m not an electrical engineer.”

“Pshh,” Dad interjected. “You never let that stop you then!”

“Maybe your brother could help!” Mom piped up.

I gritted my teeth and turned the page. My brother had teased me relentlessly for losing at the fair. He was the last person I’d turn to for help. I had been the first to declare to my parents that I would be an engineer when I grew up. Later, my brother had decided that he was going to do the same thing. It stung that he’d gone out in front of me and forged the path, with better grades and a better degree. He’d passed the same test I failed twice, and he did it with a hangover. It was hard to remain excited about something when my brother cast such a huge shadow.

The photos continued. After many a laugh shared (mostly at my expense), one bottle of wine down, and four and a half beers drank (four by my dad), it was finally late enough for us to excuse ourselves to the suite. Hand-in-hand, we stole away into the darkness across the cobblestone patio and into our little hobbit escape.

“This place is cute,” Dev said, removing his shoes while I lit a few candles.

“Yeah, I love it. Miranda would come to the island with me in the summer sometimes. We’d have sleepovers out here.”

Before I could finish lighting them all, he had his arms around me. He brushed the hair away from my neck and kissed from my earlobe down to my collarbone. I set the candle back on the table, safety first, and then turned in his arms to meet my lips with his. A little overeager, I pushed against him, and his legs hit the bed. He fell backwards with me landing on top, and we shared a giggle before the kissing continued.

I lifted off of him a moment so he could slide further onto the bed, removing my shirt and bra in the process. Then I crawled up and straddled him, our lips meeting. In between short gasps for air, I managed to pull his shirt off. My fingers trailed his chest hair down to his belt buckle, which I unclasped without effort. By touch, I recognized the pants he was wearing, the pair with the three buttons. I nibbled his bottom lip and undid each one, a professional by now.

With one strong, swift movement, he flipped me over and kissed down my neck. His hands massaged my breasts, and I arched my back towards him. His lips and tongue found their way to my abdomen, and I gripped the bed, biting my bottom lip to keep from moaning prematurely, him all-too-familiar with my erogenous zones.

Finally, he tugged off my pants and underwear, spreading my legs apart as he kneeled by the edge of the bed, his beard tickling the insides of my thighs as his mouth worked its magic on my most sensitive areas. I writhed, one hand gripping his hair and the other the bedspread. He doubled down, and I came, black spots swimming in my vision. He let off, thankfully, and I pulled him up towards me. He wiped off his beard, a grin on his face, and then lay next to me while I recovered.

A few moments later, we were kissing again, this time with less urgency. I reached down and took him in my hand, feeling him hard and ready. Pushing him over onto his back, I made my way down towards his cock, an alluring grin on my face. I loved the way he looked at me, his eyes wide and somehow astonished by what was about to occur, even though it had happened many, many times.

I teased him with my tongue, listening to his breath hitch, and then took in as much of him as I could. Some women don’t enjoy oral, but I did. It made me feel incredibly powerful, like a goddess, able to give so much pleasure with an act that is so simple. After a few minutes, he was getting close, so I moved on top and let myself sink down onto him slowly, gasping as I did, feeling myself squeeze around him in response. For a moment, I allowed my body to relax and then closed my eyes and began rotating my hips. Slow, methodical at first, but before long, I was arched over his body, his hands gripping my waist, and our movements grew in speed and intensity, both of us climaxing at the same moment, his breath hot on my neck. I collapsed on top of him as he finished pulsing inside me. He wrapped his arms around my body in a tight hug, like he didn’t want to let me go.

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