"No." The whisper of the word pulled her attention back to my eyes and I fought like hell not to smile again. Couldn't give away all my cards. "Not then. Not all at once either. That came with time. High school, college, all the females around then, all the bodies and scents and senses I'd never felt before, all those mysteries I wanted like hell to figure out, it was sensory overload and, little punk I was didn't have a damn clue."
Willow pulled her long hair over her shoulder, let the slip of loose braid move along her bare shoulder until she held the breakaway wisps between her fingers. Like feathers, like movement and grace I'd never seen anyone manage before, that woman could blink, pass a look over her shoulder and bring any man to his knees. But I had not lied. Lessons got learned in college, when every female that came at me made it easy to uncover certain secrets. I had to learn and back then, eager as I was, those lessons got taught quick.
Willow's hair reminded me of pebbles wet from the river, the color darkening with each press of the current. "I learned, but even then, all the stuff I figured out, never prepared me."
"For what?" She gave me a little of that knee-bending glance and I pulled my attention to the thick tendrils of hair she loosened from the braid to weave between her long fingers. She held her breath when I took the hair from her hand.
"For the one and many." She wanted me to clarify. She wanted answers and I had them, but I liked the way she smelled. I liked how warm her skin felt when I brushed my arm against her back. I wanted to live in that moment just for a little while, to suspend our reality until there was only the feel of our skin together. Something that was wet and warm and somehow right all at once. "Women, to a boy, are scary, so fucking scary that we don't know to catch hold of that fear. It burns in our guts, and it's that sensation we run from. Every man, no matter what kind of man he turns out to be, is a scared punk at ten, at sixteen, at eighteen when it comes to women." Will shuddered, the thin hair on my arm brushing along her spine when I slide my fingers between the wave of loose braid that fell on her shoulder. "We don't understand why girls get us all twisted up inside, make us feel like we could either scream or get sick or explode all at the same time. And then, you get a little closer to the many things that keep a man spent over a female. Things that as a kid has you running scared. As a man, though, when they let you closer, you get a little clarity. A little realization and damn do you want to unravel those mysteries. You get a touch, a small one and if you're really lucky, next comes the taste. That only makes you want more and maybe if you got game, if you're cool, know to handle your business, then you get another taste, a deeper one. The touches get you closer to a taste, until you think you've found it all out-what a woman has, what you can do with what she has."
"And then?"
"Hell. Then? Then she unravels another mystery and all the mess you think you knew about women is nothing. Then you realize you know nothing about them. Then you realize there is so much more to know until you know the truth."
"What truth is that?"
"That you'll never understand it all. That every woman has a level of mystery no man could possibly discover. There are many. That many starts with one. It starts with the held things she won't ever tell you, no matter who you are or what you can do for her. The one and many that you spend your life trying to discover. It's an addiction, really. Like drinking something that tastes so fucking good, something you believe will fill you up but only makes you realize you could never be full. It makes you drunk. That touch, that taste, the bodies, the smell, all the things that make a woman so tempting. You want to drink … it all up."
"Nash … " My name came out like a purr and Willow brought her fingers back to my chest, circling around the thin hair there, moving over my skin and I felt every touch she made. "Do I make you drunk?"
I pushed her close, my mouth hovering over hers, our bodies pressed firm, nearly back to where we'd been just minutes ago. The smell of sex and sweat filled my senses and I lowered my voice, not caring just how real I got right then.
"Sweetness, no woman alive could make me drunker." Then I kissed Willow, deep, long and got so high I could look down and not see the earth.
Nash
We slept for an hour, rolling over half asleep at the same time, pulling at each other when our bodies woke, when our minds likely stayed frozen in whatever dreams made us shake and move in our sleep.
"You changed your mind," she said to the darkness, a slow, soft stroke of her nails against my arm as I curled around her.