(originally posted 12/16 as #4 but renumbered and reposted for chronology of story)
He had been right. It didn't have to just be a one time thing. And it wasn't as I found myself staring at his ceiling again the following weekend.
"I want tacos."
I turned my head toward his voice to find him propped up on one elbow, already looking at me. "You want tacos? Now?" I asked, still lazy and sluggish in the afterglow of our activities.
"Yeah," he used his free hand to draw circles on my sternum. "I'm exhausted but I don't want to be done with you yet."
Even the shadows I felt myself blushing. A week later, I still thought he was an asshole but he was also right that the sex we had together was amazing. The whole situation made me feel powerful and confident but the casualness with which he talked about it still caught me off guard. Sex before him was a whispered behind closed doors type of thing. Now sex was a topic of conversation. Pretty much all of my conversations with him, actually.
"So, what, you want to go on a taco run?" I looked at the digital clock on the shelf. "At midnight?"
He laughed, sliding his hand up my neck and pulling me to him for a quick kiss. "Midnight taco runs are the best taco runs...but you're going to have to drive."
I heaved a sigh and moved to get out of bed and find my clothes. He continued to lounge in bed and doubt crept into whatever fantasy land we'd been existing in before I left the bed. It wasn't a sad doubt, just a logical realization. Perhaps I was outstaying my welcome. "This is a clever ruse to get me to leave, isn't it?" I said it with a smile and I meant it.
He joined me at the discarded pile of clothes we'd so quickly shed earlier. "I promise I'll tell you if I want you to leave."
"Okay, so tell me," I pressed. "Should I take my tights with me because you're going to say goodbye to me at the door when we get back."
"You're ridiculous." He snatched the stockings in question from my hand and tossed them onto the bed, out of reach. "Leave them."
I was smiling when he pushed me up again his door and kissed me with such ferocity that my lips were surely bruised as we walked out together.
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(originally posted 12/16 as #4 but renumbered and reposted for chronology of story) He had been right. It didn't have to just be a on...