Temporarily Mine

32

JOSEPHINE

Warm breath fans across the back of my neck and my eyes slowly open. My alarm clock reads five in the morning, we have school in a little over an hour.

I twist in my sheets, looking to Hero who is sound asleep, lying flat on his back, one hand under his pillow, the other resting low on his stomach.

I gently turn all the way, lifting the covers slightly to get a better look at him.

His tan skin glows against my ivory sheets, and even when at ease as he is right now, his muscles are sculpted and curved to my kind of perfection.

I look to his face and I fight the urge to lean over and meet his lips.

His commanding, control seeking, perfect lips.

I replay moments from last night in my head and my core warms.

He was so in tune with what I liked, knew exactly how to set my body off and I tried to give him just as much back.

When I had sex before, I felt clueless and unsure, self-conscious.

Last night, all I felt was Hero.

His want and his need, his desire to please and the greed in his movements. Every time his hands touched me it was purposeful. Every kiss was more heated than the last and every moan he earned of mine only seemed to make him work harder for the next one.

Last night was completely intoxicating.

Hero is intoxicating.

I quietly climb from the bed, snag my robe from the hook near my door, and move to use the restroom in the hall so I don't wake him.

The last thing I expected yesterday was everything I had hoped for - Hero to show up and erase the memory that threatened to ruin us.

He did, and then some.

I know nothing is forgotten, but to have him here, knowing we can move past this is more than enough.

After washing my hands, I splash some water on my face, gently patting it dry with a hand towel and sliding it across my neck.

My robe falls open slightly and I spot a small hickey just over my breast.

I lean closer to the mirror, tracing it with my fingers and then look into my own eyes.

No guilt. No shame.

I step back, push the door open, and my eyes fall to my discarded jeans, then slide down the hall where Hero's boxers lie.

A small smile tugs at my lips and I follow the trail, laughing at his football pants on the stairs, and my shirt by the entrance rug, his cleats a few feet from there.

I pull the corner of my bottom lip between my teeth and reach into the fridge for a bottle of water.

I unscrew the lid, taking a drink as I close the door.

I scream and jump back, gasping in the next second as the cold-water spills onto my chest.

My hand flies to my robe and I pull it closed tighter.

"Mom." My wide eyes snap from her to me and back. "What the hell!"

My mother narrows her eyes, tilting her head slightly. "What the hell?" she repeats.

"I only mean thanks for creeping up on me, you scared me."

"Maybe if you weren't so lost in thought, you'd have noticed I was standing in the living room as you passed by." She blinks.