Man of My Dreams(73)
My brain wars with my twitching dick the entire brisk walk back to her dorm room. And damn it if my sweet, shy Mia isn’t coming out of her innocent shell. My song seems to have turned her from southern belle to sex kitten.
Not that I’m complaining.
Kissing and groping, we stumble into her room and she flips on the light, sighing in relief. She pulls me back to her by the collar of my shirt and speaks against my lips, “Roommate’s gone for the night. Thank God.” She flips the switch again, this time leaving us to the dark confines of her deliciously smelling room. It’s a mix of coconut and clean laundry; Mia’s shampoo and her very clean sheets.
Clean sheets. We’ve already made our way to the sheets. Fuck, I don’t want to stop. But I have to. Me and my stupid mouth! Who sings a panty dropping song like that and then doesn’t want the girl to drop her fucking panties?
Shouldn’t I be hovering over her? My poor dick is begging to be let out of these pants, but he’s going to have to wait a little longer. Shit! I feel totally emasculated thinking like this, even as Mia straddles me, trying with all her tiny, though persuasive, might to let said dick free. “Mia. Wait. Stop.”
She stops, but her hands remain plastered to my pants button.
Here’s where I sound like the girl, ruining the rugged exterior I tried so hard to impress her with tonight. “It’s our first date. There’s plenty of time for…For our first time.”
I let out an exasperated groan, maybe it’s a whimper. I don’t fucking know. But I snap to and grab her wrists, placing her arms at her side. Away from my fucking over-eager dick.
When we sit up on the bed, eye to eye, I lift my hand up to her face, cupping her perfect little chin and pushing her sexy bangs out of those cocoa brown eyes. Those eyes are now hooded, the enlarged size of her pupils a clear indicator of how turned on she is. How ready. Why the fuck can’t I just be ready? “Mia, I want you. I’ve never wanted someone so badly…ever. But…”
“But what, Declan?” She continues to plea, but I’m blocking it out. Do the right thing, do the right thing, even if it’s going to kill you. I’ve lasted this long—a goddamn nineteen year old male virgin—I can wait a little longer until things are more serious with this amazing girl. Fuck it! Here goes everything. “I’m a virgin, Mia.”
Poor girl looks like I’ve just told her I’m a zombie and she’s about to become one too. I take her hand in mine, hoping to redeem myself. To make her understand why. “I’m sorry I just blurted it out like that, and you have no idea how embarrassing this is to admit to you. I definitely want this...and you. Just not tonight. I want to get to know you better.”
After a few very silent, nearly awkward moments, I wonder if I’ve blown the fucking mother load. Maybe she isn’t into me the same way I’m into her. Maybe she just wants the hook up instead of the lifetime. Did I read her wrong?
Bullshit! Before all the groping and touching, I saw it in her eyes. Goo-goo eyes don’t fucking lie. She had goo-goo eyes for me. The eyes that force the mouth to go blabbing to all your girlfriends about dates like ours, boys like me. I turn away, trying to regain some composure. To ready myself for the disappointment of a wonderful night coming to a catastrophic end. But her delicate fingers work their way into my hair, turning my head so that our eyes can meet again.
I smile because I see it again. The goo-goo effect. It’s back!
She smiles back at me, licking her lips. I think she must be trying to kill me. “Okay. We’ll wait. But can we still make out?”
Making out I can do. I’ll have to tame the devil in my pants, but if that’s all I have to do to keep this amazing thing going—it’ll be damn near impossible, but it’ll be worth it in the end.
“So did you bone her?” Carl doesn’t even look up from his N-64. He’s about to unlock another star for Mario—apparently that supersedes me possibly boning someone.
“No, I didn’t bone her, asshole. But if you care to know, she’s definitely my girl and you’re never getting that ID back.” I pull my shirt over my head and kick off my shoes, deflating onto my too-firm bed.
Still seated like a rotting vegetable in front of the television, Carl spews out more of his inane banter. “Well, I hope you get some action soon so that you can move on to the next one and make yourself known for something other than your dreamy, flowing hair. Oh, and speaking of your stupid hair, that girl in Economics keeps asking about you.”
Carl could have just told me that Alicia Silverstone wants to go out with me and I still wouldn’t care. I scrub my hands over my face. “Tell her I’m taken.”