28 | Taylor
Taylor
I hate dates. I hate getting to know people I don’t care about, and I hate pretending like I’m interested in whatever they have to say.
It feels like work. My whole life is just one giant, never-ending date.
But with Melina, it’s effortless. I take comfort in the fact that she used to despise me, knowing that our relationship can’t get any worse than it has before.
I like hearing her thoughts and opinions on the world and watching how intently she listens to mine. Maybe friendships aren’t overrated.
Melina stands in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out over New York’s skyline. “Woah,” she says. “The view is beautiful!”
I haven’t turned on the lights, so her figure is only illuminated by the city that never sleeps. I admire her curves, her angles, her face full of shadows. Yes, the view is beautiful.
She puts her hands on her hips and shimmies. “You really went all out for little ol’ me.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
Maybe booking this room was a little excessive. We’re only staying one night, but if I’m going to break my no-sex rule, might as well do it in a penthouse.
Melina follows me toward what I think is the bedroom. I open the door, peek inside, and immediately slam it.
“This is an outrage.”
“What?” she asks. “Did they forget to clean it?”
How adorable.
I open the door again to let her walk into the completely normal bedroom.
“I swear I asked for two,” I say. “Maybe you could take the bed and I could take the bathtub?” Her face turns blank when I put my hands on her shoulders.
She doesn’t seem amused by my joke. I don’t care.
“Should I call the front desk, or do you think we can be adults about this?”
A reluctant smile peeks through her lips. “And here I thought it was just a fantasy for books. Should we make a pillow barrier? I tend to spoon during the night.”
“I don’t think that will be a problem.”
I take away the glass of cucumber water she’s been holding.
When the receptionist offered it to her, Melina looked at me like she was just given a million dollars.
I could’ve said you know water’s free back home too in true me fashion, but I kept my mouth shut.
There are too many things in this world I take for granted, and Melina will never be one of them.
I set the glass on the nightstand. She’s too pretty to be holding things.
I want those hands free for other activities.
I lean into her and place my lips just below her jaw.
My kiss is gentle, but she sucks in a breath like I’ve just given her a mediocre orgasm.
If that’s the sound I get now, I wonder how she’ll serenade me later.
“Any other fantasies you want fulfilled?” I reach behind her head and close the door. Melina follows my direction as I press her up against it. Slowly, I trace her jawline with my nose. She smells of fruit and sugar, like a pie that’s been left out to set.
“What about your fantasies?” she asks, tilting her head to give me more room to roam. “Maybe I should start planning my Halloween costume. What should I be? Nurse? Catwoman? Sexy cop? What’s your pleasure?”
I refuse to take my mouth off her, so I pull back just enough to speak. “I’m not turned on by stereotypes of women in professional fields of work.”
I’m not being totally honest there. The image of Melina as a candy striper popped into my head rather quickly. I’m only human.
Her laugh vibrates against my lips. “Wow. Good answer. What should you be? I like pirates and firefighters. Vampires are okay, but it needs to be the Twilight ones that are hot and play baseball. Not Nosferatu.”
She flinches when I take a nip at the skin of her neck.
“Actually, I have a sexy web developer kink,” I say. “Thinking about you and HTML really gets me going.”
“I mostly use Python.”
“Even better.”
Fucking finally, she puts her hands on me. She holds my biceps as I reposition my mouth against hers. The little sounds she makes as our lips mingle provide the most wonderful background music. This time she tastes like vanilla.
I let my hand dip under her skirt to cup her ass.
When she snakes her leg around my thigh, I remember her V-neck sweater is held together by only three buttons.
Not very structurally sound, I say. During the Dartmouth panel, I would zone off and think about how easy it could be to rip them all off.
I’m a gentleman, however, and she doesn’t seem to mind when I properly undo the first one.
In fact, she starts to unbutton the second, but I take her forearms and put them by her sides.
“No. I have to do it.” I want to unwrap her like a spoiled kid on Christmas morning. I have such fond memories of childhood.
“Very bossy,” she says.
“Is that a surprise?”
Melina leans back to let me undress her.
She contorts, and I help her shrug off the sweater as we taste each other.
Her bare arms provide the perfect surfaces for running my fingers over, creating goosebumps everywhere they lead.
My hands drift down her ribcage until they find the zip on the side of her skirt. The breezy fabric floats to her feet.
I pull away to have my look at her. I love the way women, in particular, appear right before I ruin them.
Hair still pristine, makeup still intact.
Innocent and unsuspecting. They appreciate the aesthetics of sex.
Take Melina, for example. Both her bra and panties are a lacey midnight blue.
I wonder if that was planned. My brother once told me that if a girl’s wearing a matching set, she’s the one having sex with you .
It’s stupid logic, but one of his more interesting hypotheses.
“You look nice,” I say. “Very matchy-matchy.”
I can’t tell if she recognizes my observation. I’m hypnotized by those doe eyes gazing up at me. Damn her.
Melina’s breasts push up when she crosses her arms. “Well, this isn’t fair. I’m practically naked and you’re fully clothed.” She is practically naked. Her panties leave nothing to the imagination. “I deserve to see all of you.”
I move her hair behind her shoulders. “Why is that?”
She scrapes a nail down my chest, one finger soon turns to five. “I’ve been very good at putting up with your shenanigans.”
She’s right. My shenanigans are usually dealt with by paid professionals.
Her hand wanders further down until I grab it to stop her from tugging at my belt.
“What about making me jump into a pool?” I ask. “I didn’t like that.”
I push my thumb into her palm like a detective shining a light into the suspect’s eyes. She steps closer to erase the space between us. I don’t care if she feels my dick up against her, in fact, I hope she does.
“You did that on your own stupid volition.”
I jerk my head back. “I expect you to be nicer than that if you want me to take my clothes off.” She giggles when I push her chest. “Just get on the damn bed.”
Melina does what I tell her before witnessing a pathetic man unbutton his shirt at the speed of light.