“Jesus, you’ve got your work cut out for you, bro,” Asher said, laughing. I had to agree, but knew that in the end, if I got my way, it would be worth it.
When Liz walked out of my bedroom in the dress she was wearing for dinner, I felt my zipper imprint on my dick. The floral sundress that hugged her body, showing off every single curve, made me want to drag the dress up her thighs and slide into her. The front was low, showing a fair amount of cleavage; the bottom reached just above the knee. On her feet were a pair of cream high heels that wrapped around her ankle, making me think of nothing but feeling them in my back as I plowed into her. Her hair was down and wavy, laying over the tops of her breasts. It didn’t look like she had on a lot of makeup except for on her lips; they were shiny with pink gloss. “What the fuck?”
“What?” she startled, looking down at herself. I didn’t even notice her looking at me while I was checking her out. I had on a pair of black jeans, a dark grey button-down shirt, and a black vest. This was me dressed up; I only wore a suit if forced, and there hadn’t been too many occasions where that was necessary.
“You look beautiful.”
“Oh, thanks.” She smiled, her cheeks turning pink. “You look very nice yourself, Mr. Mayson.”
I shook my head. “The only reason I’m going to look good tonight is because you’re on my arm.”
She smiled, shaking her head, “You really are good at that, aren’t you?” She grabbed some stuff out of her purse and put them in a smaller bag.
“Good at what?”
“Making a woman feel like she’s all you see.”
“You are all I see.” I told her truthfully.
“Whatever, can we just go?” Her eyes got wet, and my chest squeezed. I thought that we were making progress, but it seemed like we were stuck in limbo. I put my hands to her waist, lifted her onto the counter, stood between her legs, and fought the urge to look at where her dress had ridden up her thighs. “Now what are you doing?” she snapped, pushing against me. Taking her wrists, I held them behind her back.
“Baby, listen to me.” Her breathing changed.
“I don’t have a choice; you’re a bully and bigger than me,” she mumbled. She looked so cute that I leaned in and kissed her softly, before laying my forehead against hers.
“I know I fucked up, but I want you to give me a chance. If this doesn’t work out, you don’t ever have to see me again. But try for me.”
I watched a tear slide down her cheek. I released her wrists, and holding her face, I slid the tear away with my thumb. “How do I know that you’re serious about this?”
“Have you ever heard of me being in a relationship?” She shook her head in response.
“I haven’t been in one. I never even thought about it until I saw you sitting on my parents’ porch with your legs to your chest, a cup of coffee in your hand, your hair in a crazy mess around you. You looked beautiful; then you laughed and I knew that it was you for me. I wondered who you were, and when I found out that you lived in town and I had never even seen you before, I was shocked. So I started hanging out with you and found out that not only were you gorgeous, but also sweet. I didn’t know what to do with how I was feeling about you, so I used the only thing I could to push you away. The problem was I didn’t like it much when you gave me what I wanted.” I brushed her hair back from her face; she still looked uncertain. So I walked over to the junk drawer and riffled through it until I found a pen and piece of paper. I wrote on it and handed it to her. She sat there, looking at it, and biting her lip. I handed her the pen; she took it, made a circle, and then handed the note and pen back to me.
Will you go out with me?
YES or NO
She circled yes. I smiled and she giggled, shaking her head. “You do know you’re crazy, right?”
“I figure I missed out on this when I was young, so I should start now.” She laughed, shaking her head again. I went back to her, and standing between her legs, I put my hands on her calves, running up her smooth silky skin to behind her knees. I pulled her deeper into me; I could feel the heat of her against me. Running my hands up her thighs, watching as they traveled up, then to her waist, I looked up to see her watching my hands too, while biting her lip. “You’re going to have to be patient with me and grade me on a curve.” I ran my thumbs on the underside of her jaw. “Can you do that?”
She swallowed. “As long as you don’t hurt me again.” I knew that until I fixed the trust I had torn apart with her, she would be on edge. But as long as she gave me the time, it was fixable.