Beware of Love in Technicolor (39 page)

“I don’t know how to really dance,” I protested.

“You don’t need to. Just follow me. I’m leading.”

I obliged and took his hands and he spun me around the room. We were both laughing and having fun and I forgot all about our kissing until we stopped and he was there again, standing in front of me, and then kissing me again.

“This is crazy,” I said, my mind spinning at what was happening. What he was doing to me. “And where did you learn to dance?”

“It is not crazy. There’s lots you don’t know about me. And my grandparents taught me to dance,” he answered, moving us in big circles around the empty room.

When we moved around toward the bed it was me who slowed down and pulled him toward it, until we were lying down and still kissing and giggling and mumbling about the craziness of it all. I thought about all the times Topher had been there to pick me up when there was nobody else, and how I had wrapped all my adoration around all the wrong people. The thought made me grip him tight, which he responded to by sliding his hand up the gauzy black baby
doll dress I was wearing. Suddenly, we were not giggling anymore.

“I want to know more about you,” I said, unbuckling his b
elt. With more skill than I was expecting from him, he lifted my light dress over my head in one motion, leaving me clad only in a lacy black bra and matching lace underwear. His eyes grew wide for a moment, and we were both breathing heavy. I pulled his t shirt over his head we were skin to skin in the warm room.

We rolled around for a while, half-clothed and exploring. He ran his hands and mouth all over me, kissing my knees, my hips, my belly button, back up to my lips, his hands still lingering over my thighs, and as he grew more daring, my breasts. I found myself far more confident than ever, and responded with plenty of gentle encouragement about what I liked, and what I wanted more of.

When finally all our clothes had found their way to the floor, and we had covered the whole unsexy safe sex thing, he slid into me, and let out a deep moan. He rocked gently back and forth, and without thinking, I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him deeper.

I found myself wondering if I was going to revert to my old ways. I shut that voice up quickly, and focused my attention and energy back on what my body, and not so much my mind, was telling me.

“You on top,” he panted, breathy and smiling. I nodded and in one smooth motion, he rolled us so that I was on top of him.

I knew I was getting close. I knew I wasn’t quite there yet, but it was so good, him and me together and the feeling of being full up, of being satisfied, of his skin against my skin and his breathing and mine both loud and primal. He stayed still under me, hands on my hips, guiding me back and forth over him. But it was when he reached one hand down, and touched me while I moved, small circles matching my motion, bringing me to that edge I had looked over so many times and so many times had been right there and so many times had wanted to know and so many times had backed off just when I was ready to so many times go right over that edge. And he kept circling and I kept moving and he was moving we were both breathing so heavy but in time with each other, and finally, after so many times of looking over that edge and wanting to soar...

Halle-fucking-luiah!

After almost two years of feeling disconnected, abnormal and broken, it all finally made some goddamn sense. I finally got it. What all the fuss was about. Why people get so attached to getting naked. And I wanted to do it again.

***

             
“That was amazing,” Topher gasped as we lay tangled in one another, sweaty and satisfied.

             
“Yes, it was,” I answered dreamily. It was the first time I felt relaxed, and not tense, after sex.

             
“I hope you don’t regret this,” he said, stroking my hair with his free hand. His other arm was under me, holding me close, despite the heat of the room.

             
“Are you kidding me? No way,” I said. “I didn’t expect it, certainly, when I came down here to get you for dinner.”

             
“Dinner sounds good,” he sighed. “You hungry.”

             
“Starving.”

             
“I don’t want to get up,” he said. “If we get up and leave this room it might all turn out not to be real, and I really, really want this all to be real.”

             
“It’s real,” I said. I sat up and found my underwear. I pulled it on, and slid my dress back over my head. I turned and looked back at Topher, who still lay naked on the bed.

             
“This changes things,” I said to him, handing his boxers to him.

             
“I hope so,” he replied as he began to get dressed.

             
“In what way?” I asked. These feelings that he had stirred up, this sudden urge to stop him as he pulled his shorts on, and demand he take me again, these were all so new. This was Topher. I already loved him, but now? Well, now I wanted him.

             
As if he knew exactly what I needed, and really, when it came down to it, he always knew exactly what I needed, he pulled me down on top of him and kissed me again.