Page 24 of The Cannon
The doorbell makes me jump. He’s here. My mouth instantly goes dry. Oh God.
My feet feel like they are walking in sand as I move toward the door of my condo. It’s a long hallway. Longer than I ever knew. I take a deep breath then blow it out slowly as my hand grasps the doorknob. Here we go.
The door swings open and the vision appears. This is sexy on another level. He’ll be harder to resist than anticipated. A pale blue top drapes gently over his tight body. Biceps and pecs can’t be ignored. Think that’s a washboard stomach I see through the fabric.
And the dark jeans fit as if they were made just for this body. Oh hell, I’m in trouble.
“Evening,” he says with that slow drawl.
I get the stomach flip. Inside my head I’m fucking him where we stand. In a flash an image of me straddling him appears. In it I’m really good at the art of making love. And I have absolutely no trouble reaching orgasm. The way he’s looking at me does nothing to stop the fantasy.
“You look lovely. Let me see,” he says taking my hands.
He looks at my entire head-to-toe ensemble.
“You have a beautiful body, Bristol. This is the first I’ve seen of your legs. You shouldn’t ever wear pants.”
I have no comeback. What’s happening?
“Let me see your place. Can I come in?”
“Oh god. Sorry. Of course. Yes.”
I lead the way into the living room and adjacent open kitchen. I’m looking at my own space with new eyes. Looks a bit cold. Sparse.
“Very nice.”
He looks around taking in my modern décor, sans personal touches. There’s the couch and two club chairs. The glass coffee table and a lamp. The kitchen looks like no one has ever used it. That’s not far from the truth.
“Did you just move in?”
“No. I’ve been here five years.”
We both find my statement funny. I start laughing and he follows.
“If you could see my place you’d know why I find what you said funny,” he says.
“Don’t like the minimalist look?”
“So this was on purpose?”
I punch him right in the arm. “Ass.”
He closes his grip around my wrist and brings me close.
“Don’t worry, I’m going slow. But just a kiss. We can do that, can’t we?”
“I suppose so. If you must.”
I’m not sure he’s buying my indifference. Because as he leans in, I melt into his embrace. This kiss is different from the last. It carries me from my living room to a place I want to see more of. The taste of him is addictive. The smell of his skin is soap, shaving lotion and his unique pheromones. Manly.
When we part his eyes don’t leave mine.
“I don’t want to shoot myself in the foot, but if we keep doing that I won’t want to stop. Our pact to go slow or not.”
“Well, I can’t be the lion tamer. Control yourself, because I want to keep doing it.”
So I take his face in my hands and lay one on him. It’s the mother of all kisses. Sweet Memphis magic. I pull away just as I feel the bulge in his pants rear it’s probably beautiful head.
