Page 29 of Then Came You

"What I plan to do with you?" I take a step forward. "A hell of a fucking lot, I hope." Closing the gap, I grasp her chin and devour her mouth. The way she moans should be illegal.

If we don't move past first base tonight, I'll be one step from insanity.

Our kiss is fiery but fleeting.

"Oh God..." She rasps when I pull back. I steady her sway and pull her to my chest.

"Is that a yes to me monopolising you for the next day?"

"Yes." She moans breathlessly in response, with zero uncertainty. A soft, contented smile plays on her lips, as a rosy hue tints her cheeks. Her eyes glimmer with affection, which is soon replaced by lust.

Rising on her tiptoes, her lips and tongue find mine again. Our kiss is feverish and intoxicating, and soon if we both don't draw air, we'll both be down to limited oxygen, but fuck if I care. My fingers instinctively find their place on her hips, gently curving around their soft contours. With a gentle but firm grasp, I draw her body closer to mine, feeling the warmth of her pressed against me.

"We're going to get arrested," she drawls, tipping her head back, giving me access to her exposed neck. She's tantalising. With nipping kisses and one last lick to the column of her throat, I groan begrudgingly, pulling away.

"Fine... Want to go bowling?" I suggest randomly, looking down at her lush swollen lips.

"Really? I've never been bowling!" You'd think I'd just offered to buy her a tropical island the way she reacts. How has this girl never been bowling? She's 22. Surely growing up she would have gone to a birthday party at the very least.

I squeeze her tighter, internally promising myself to show her everything she's been missing. "Let's go then, Tink."

We have to take a short taxi to get to the closest one, but before the car even pulls to a stop, Row has sprinted from the car and is eagerly looking up at the luminescent Strike bowling sign.

I didn't think the red clown shoes they pair you with could ever look anything less than dorky, but somehow Row has managed to make me have a foot fetish the way she's wearing them.

I grab us some hot dogs and soft drink, but again, I'm obviously a sucker for punishment because watching her deep throat the sausage only drags my mind back down to depraved places, like swapping that sausage for another human one.

Finally, we get to the bowling part of the evening.

I've already decided that I'm going to let her win no matter what. Something tells me she needs the win, even if it is as small as winning a game.

"Can you show me how to do it?" She asks meekly, as if she's embarrassed she doesn't know how to roll the ball down the lane.

"It'd be my pleasure." I saddle up next to her, watching her furrow her eyebrow at the ball she's going to pick. "Go for a light one," I nudge, tilting my head toward a bright pink sparkly one that exactly matches her hair.

She walks over to the line and stands back about a metre. Her apprehensive eyes move to mine, waiting for instruction. I'm more of a show rather than tell guy, so I walk behind her and stand close enough that a piece of paper couldn't fit between us. I firmly place my hands on her hips, which makes her shudder, and wiggle her ass right on my cock.

Jesus, it's going to be a long night.

"Bend your knees a little," I whisper in her ear, planting a soft kiss on her jaw. She does as I ask. "If you can, extend one leg back so you're sort of in a lunging position." She situates her right leg between mine. Her choppy breathing indicates that she's just as affected by our closeness as I am. "Now extend your arm straight, swing it backward, and let it roll when you're ready," I instruct. I trace the pads of my fingers down her arm, sending shivers through one half of her body.

She does everything I ask of her.

Holding her breath, she lets go of the ball and watches it intently slide down the middle of the lane. Her bowl doesn't have enough strength behind it, so only eight pins are knocked down, but it's as if she's scored all strikes the way she jumps into my arms.

"Did you see that!" she shouts with glee. Her joy is infectious and reminds me of just how much light a person can bring to your day.

"I did, baby, you did well. Such a good girl." The praise comes naturally.

I heap praise all the time on my children, but this feels kinkier, and I like it. A lot.

She jumps into my arms, wrapping herself around me. "Thank you." She loops her arms around my neck and presses a sloppy kiss on my lips. My tongue tangles with hers, and once again I'm lost in her being.

Everything around us fades away and quiets down. Gone are the sounds of pins being bowled over, kids hyped up on sugar, and the cheesy 80s music filling the space.

It's clear we're making a spectacle when another gruff cough forces our attention away from one another. It's another dad around the same age as me with three young kids gawking at us.

Row scrambles down from my arms and immediately bows her head in shame.