Matt barked a surprised laugh and then devoured my mouth with a hungry kiss just before sliding into me, filling the empty ache between my thighs. I gasped for real this time, tilting my pelvis to take more of him as he pulled away and planked above me.
"You want this firmware?" His voice deepened to a reprimanding growl as he stroked me unhurriedly, making me crazy.
"Yes, please. Hard drive, hot sync, boot disk, computery words." I arched my back, my eyes closing. I could take no more of the sight of him above me, it was too much.
"You are so fucking sexy." His movements were slow, deliberate, rhythmic. It was the best kind of torture.
"Harder. Please," I begged, my breath hitching.
He didn't comply, instead demanding, "Tell me you love me."
"I love you."
He increased his tempo, but kept his thrusts gentle. I whimpered.
"Tell me there is no end to us."
"There is no end."
Matt rewarded me with a rough roll of his hips, making me cry out.
"Tell me this is forever." His voice was tight with restraint and emotion, causing me to open my eyes.
Immediately, I was arrested by his expressive, gorgeous gaze, equal parts possessive and vulnerable. Reaching for him, I guided his mouth to mine and kissed him once, my hands sliding down his back.
"I'm yours. Forever."
"And I'm yours." He swallowed, so earnest, so sincere.
"You are my person," I whispered, feeling the rightness and inevitability of the words.
He huffed a laugh, made complex with unspoken desires and hopes, and nodded. "Yes, Marie. I am your person."
I felt emotion prickle behind my eyes and my mouth curved into a beaming smile. Goodness, how I loved this man. This funny, sweet, amazing, remarkable man. I loved how he made me feel, like I was the most beautiful woman he'd ever known, both inside and out.
He not only felt right, he felt like he'd been made especially for me. And I for him.
For the first time in my life, I was encouraging my hopes. I allowed them to run and fly. To the sky. To the stars. Because that's what my life was going to be from now on.
Matt, me, and perpetually soaring hopes.
Epilogue
Mind-Reading Robot
MIT's Computer Science and Artificial Intelligence Laboratory made a robot that responds to a human's brain signals. The robot can sort various objects, making choices based on the brainwaves of a person wearing an EEG (electroencephalogram) cap who is watching the robot work.
Source: Massachusetts Institute for Technology (MIT)
Meet Matthew Simmons
Invention is the fruit of desire and/or disinterest. Most people don't realize, but desire and disinterest are closely related.
Desire as a motivator is obvious-think rocket ships and porn. Disinterest as a motivator is less obvious, but might be the more powerful of the two. We humans hate to be inconvenienced.
As an example, I've always been disinterested in clothes. The quality of, trends of, price of.
Winter, I needed to be warm.
Summer, I needed to be not naked, yet still clothed. Because of laws.
But now, shopping for clothes is one of my favorite things to do.
"I like this tie on you." Marie held up a strip of silk against me, her knuckles brushing along the fabric of my shirt, and tilted her head to the right side. "The color brings out your eyes."
"Does it?" I captured her hand, holding it in place against my chest, and stole a kiss. She tasted like cherries because she was wearing something cherry flavored that made her lips shiny.
"Yes. It does." Marie smiled, her face close to mine.
She did this. When we shopped, she looked at me for a prolonged period of time. She touched me, often. She stood close, sometimes she whispered in my ear.
Thus, I didn't shop for clothes, I shopped for the process of shopping for clothes.
I remain disinterested in clothes. Except for suits.
The buying of the suits months ago was done with one goal: make Marie think of me in suits, which-according to her own admission-were synonymous with non-platonic thoughts.
I now know-now that we'd discussed everything after the friend-zoning in great detail-that she'd been having non-platonic thoughts about me well before I'd worn my first suit, and that the suits hadn't been the catalyst for her feelings.
But I still wore them.
Because Marie liked me in suits. She looked at me differently. She looked longer. And showing her she's worth the effort is important. She is important to me.
"Do you even need a new tie?" She stepped away, regarding me with suspicion. "Didn't we just buy you four last month?"