Chapter One
Ella
“Honey, could you bring me the vacuum cleaner?” I yell from the living room while kneeling on the floor, picking up the shards of a small glass bowl I accidentally dropped.
“Here you go,” Josh brings the vacuum cleaner to me and caresses my back. He kneels down to me, and takes my hand in his. He takes a closer look at my finger that just started bleeding.
“You cut your finger. Go get a Band-Aid, and I’ll finish up here.” He kisses my forehead, and gently smacks my butt as I get up.
“Watch it, mister.” Raising an eyebrow, I give him a naughty look. “I’m injured here.” I stick my injured finger in his face.
“But your butt doesn’t seem injured. Well, at least not yet,” he winks, licking his lips.
“Perv,” I smile at him. “Keep on dreaming!”
“I had to try,” he shrugs, wiggles his eyebrows, and starts vacuuming. I run to the bathroom to inspect the damage. I open the bathroom door, careful not to drip any blood on the floor, and run my finger under the cold water. It stings a little, as the first spray of the icy water hits the wound, but I relax when my finger starts to numb. I take a Band-Aid from the cabinet, put it on the sink, and carefully dry my injured hand. A wide grin splits my face as I take in my surroundings. It’s still hard to believe we’re in our own home. Our home. We can do whatever we want, and nobody can say anything against it. My eyes travel across the grey tiles to the glass shower doors we christened yesterday evening. A faint print of my hand is still visible on the glass surface, and a swarm of butterflies in my belly starts fluttering at the memory of yesterday’s lovemaking.
“It’s almost too perfect,” I murmur to myself, as I wrap the Band-Aid around my finger. I take a quick glance at myself in the mirror. My naughty thoughts caused my cheeks to flush. I toss my long brown hair over my right shoulder, and make a side ponytail. I don’t hear the vacuum cleaner anymore, so I join Josh in the living room.
Josh is everything and more I could ask for in a guy. The first thing I noticed about him were his full lips. They’re gorgeous. His hair is short, almost black, and his eyes are blue as an ocean. I could get lost in them.
“Thank you, you’re a sweetheart,” I hug him, planting a wet kiss on his mouth. In exchange he gently squeezes my butt.
“I couldn’t just leave you to bleed out in the middle of the living room. Our rug would be totally ruined.”
I poke him in the ribs with my elbow, wrap my arms around his neck, and kiss him passionately. Josh lifts me in his arms, and carries me to the creamy white leather sofa in the middle of our spacious living room. He gently lays me on the couch, and presses his lips against mine. Just as he is trying to get me out of my shirt, his phone rings.
“Damn it,” he swears, and runs his hand through his hair in frustration. “Next time, we’re turning our cellphones off.” He winks at me, and rearranges the bulge that is proudly standing against his pants. “It’s my mom,” he says before answering, and I sit up. I take another look around. I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that Josh and I finally live together. On my right, there’s a giant bookshelf. We are both avid readers, so buying a bookshelf was one of the first things we did. The furniture we chose for the living room is made of rustic solid oak. We put the coffee table by the L-shaped sofa, and a big LCD television sits on a low stand by the far wall. A rug that is the same color as the sofa covers the floor of the living room. I’m awakened from my deep thoughts by Josh’s tender kiss on my mouth.
“Where were we?” he asks, a satisfied grin on his face as he starts showering my neck with kisses. “My parents invited themselves to dinner Saturday night,” he adds.
“Uh-huh,” I mutter distractedly, and close my eyes. Josh grabs the hem of my shirt and pulls it over my head with ease. I’m not wearing a bra under the shirt. I like to be comfortable at home.
“Damn it, you’re gorgeous. I love every part of your body.” He begins to trail a path of kisses from my neck, paying extra attention to my breasts. Then he continues down to my belly until he reaches the waistband of my pants. “Lift,” he orders, his voice strained with lust and desire, and swiftly undoes the button. Just as he is about to pull them down my legs, the phone rings again, this time mine.
“Ugh,” we both protest loudly, and for a second, I think about not answering.
“Who is it now?” I sigh and check my cellphone. “Hi, Sophie,” I greet my best friend, still breathing deeply.
Sophie and I met at the university. We were roommates for three years. During that time, we created a really special bond. The last year of university we didn’t live together as she moved in with her current boyfriend, Matt, but we have remained very close nevertheless. She’s like a sister I never had.