Rosie Labrun is a lot of things: a college student on the cusp of graduation; an intern for the Portland Pirates, a romance novel connoisseur; and the most recent addition to her resume...the girlfriend of a professional athlete.
She won't let it d...
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"This is a horrible idea." Rosie tells me, embodying the same judgmental tone of Simon Cowell, back when he was on the X-Factor. The show, where - besides from bringing together the previously known boy band turned 5-individual artists of One Direction, he was known for being the asshole judge.
She's definitely shot me down enough; vetoing every and any location that I proposed for where we could make love. Can't do it in the middle of the basement because someone might walk in, can't do it in car because someone might see, can't do it in my room because someone might hear.
Now, that we've been brought to the very last location that I could think of - besides a hotel, for where we can hook up, she's trying to figure out another way to make this impossible. Or as I see it, tease me to death - while she stares at my half-naked body, making it blatantly clear that she wants this just as much as I do. But what can I say, I like a challenge; and Rosie is nothing but challenging.
"It's perfect. Trust me." I tell her, smirking to myself when I watch her checking me out, but deciding not to comment on it because I'm trying to make love to her, not have her walk out on me. I reach into the shower and turn on the water on a medium temperature setting before closing the door closed. "Unless you wanna do it in here." I suggest, half already knowing that she'll be shooting that idea down.
She gives me a look, crossing her arms over her chest like she's unimpressed; but staring at me with these giant eyes like she's a cat and I'm her favorite mouse toy. "We're not doing it in the shower." She states, chewing on her lip as she watches me move closer to her. My hands automatically find themselves on both sides of her, slowly working up her thighs while I stand between them.
"Not a fan of doing it in the shower?" I tease, fondly remembering the last time - and only, time we did it under the water. Rosie almost slipped and sprained her ankle; and I accidently smacked my head against the shower head a few dozen times. By the time we even got to having sex, she was so stressed out that we ended up going back to the bed and calling it a night.
Yeah. While porn loves to make shower sex look easy and appealing, the reality of it is that one person's always cold; you're both at risk of slipping; and any natural wetness that your girl makes is washed away by the unappreciative water. I personally would prefer to be the one getting rid of that wetness with my tongue, but maybe that's just me.
I ordered some special lube, but even with that, it was more of a hassle than it's worth.
"Just don't be loud." She tells me, ordering me around - I would say like a teacher or dictator, but who am I kidding, she's usually telling me what to do. And I, being the happy sucker in love with her, take her demands willingly; happily even.
"I'm pretty sure you're the one that's gonna have a bigger problem being too loud, between the two of us." I remark, laughing when she smacks my arm. I may be laughing and trying to lighten the mood, but that's mostly because if I think about how much I want her right now, I'll come in my pants.
"I'm not loud." She says, slightly louder than normal because she's trying to prove a point; then realizing that it's the middle of the night and covering her mouth. She puts away the facade of flirting with me for a moment to wonder if anyone heard, looking to me for reassurance and comfort.
"Nobody heard, Rosie. You're fine." I tell her, allowing our playful dynamic turn into a more serious one. One that begins with you're my best friend and ends with I wanna tare off your clothes.
My eyes move down to her lips, taking in the beautiful sight in front of me and wondering what I ever did to be this lucky. Because this woman in front of me; this gorgeous - inside and out, human being, is all mine. And with her hair sprawled out all over the place and baggy sweatshirt draped over her body, I swear she's never looked more like a work of art.
"Stop looking at me like that." She tells me, her voice sounding almost shy. She wants it to come off irritated and strong, but I see past that all that; I see it for what it is. Nerves and vulnerability.
"Like what?" I ask, half-wondering what exactly one would describe looking at the girl you're crazy about; checking her out and wondering how long it'll be before you can be inside her. Before you can be making love to her.
She looks up at me through her eyelashes, her green eyes feeling like they hold the key to my motor function. We're both just looking at each other and unlike with a stranger or someone I'm just hooking up with, I could stare at her forever. I know it sounds creepy, but sometimes I even watch her when she sleeps. She snores a little and it's cute as fuck. Sometimes she'll even nuzzle into me in her sleep and aside from giving me a boner, it's the cutest thing ever.
"I can't think straight when you do that." She tells me, acting as if she's confessing a sin to a priest behind one of those half-there, half-not, walls. I always wondered if they would have to tell the cops if someone confessed they murdered someone; then again, I don't think there's a confession someone could say is greater than bearing yourself to another person.
Showing them who you are - the good, the bad, the ugly.
"You're so fucking cute." I tell her, grinning at her like the hopeless man in love that I am. Everything she does is adorable; and I can't help but marveling and how beautiful she is sometimes. Then - kind of like right now, she'll tell me to buzz off or stop staring at her.
I lean down, our mouths grazing against one another's, before rubbing my nose against hers. I know most guys like the sex part the most - getting in and getting out faster than someone being ushered through a Tim Hortons drive thru. But I love this part; I love the foreplay, the leading up to it; the part where you wonder how you could ever feel better than in this very moment.
Coming, is also nice; but I really do like the build-up.
"It makes me nervous." She says, her mouth just barely moving against my lips. I want to keep going; keep kissing her until I have to pull away for air. But it seems like she wants to say something and I wanna let her. "When you look at me like that." She adds, blinking a few times as she looks up at me, then away towards the shower.
It feels like both my dick is going to explode and my heart, at the same time. Maybe my head, too; wondering what the hell I did to deserve someone like her. "Oh, yeah?" My grin gets even bigger and I don't give a shit if I look like an idiot. She's unimpressed - or at least trying to seem like it, rolling her eyes at me. She does it in a half-joking way; the same way she does with everything, because when things get too serious, she gets uncomfortable.
"You're a goof." She tells me, her words seeming like they would drive me away, or inspire some sort of back-and-forth banter. But the way her hand is running down my arm right now; the way it's layered on top of my own hand, like she never wants me to take it off her thigh, makes me much like her, unable to think coherently.
Incoherent and in love.
"If only there was a way for me to help you get rid of some of that stress." I remark, meaning for it to come out jokingly - given that we're about to have sex. But my voice is so low and gruff and all I'm seriously thinking about is the millions of ways that I would love to help her relax.
When we make eye contact again; all I have to say, is I'm glad this bathroom has a lock.
