5. Chapter 5 #2
“Well, I’ll take that over slut any day.” I look around. The landing has a small futon, a faux fur rug, a mini fireplace, and a runner that extends down the hall, to where I’m guessing is the master bedroom. I slit my eyes as I look at him.
His tone is expectant. “What.”
One foot in front of the other, I prepare.
“Oh, no. Not another race.” He warns playfully.
Ignoring him, I take off at lightning speed, aiming for the large double doors down the hall. When I find it, I burst them open and jump on the king-sized bed, doing a somersault for good measure. He stops dead in his tracks, laughing at me. “God, how did you do that?”
I turn over to face him, laying on my belly, and rest my chin on my hand. “Do you really want to know? It’s one of the first things I did when I bought my first king-sized bed.”
“I was just kidding...but...thanks for the tip.”
He walks to his dresser and removes his watch, setting it on top. I follow him with my gaze, turning over so I don’t lose him. “Oh, come on. You’ve never jumped on your bed? It’s huge!”
The smirk tells me that he’s finally thinking with a sense of humor. “That’s what she said.”
I snort a laugh, undoing my double-breasted jacket, and slipping it off. “Now you’re finally coming out of your shell.” I pat the bed. “Come on. If you’re not going to leap onto it, the least you can do is jump on it.”
“I’m not doing either, so forget it. Let me show you the rest of the place, so I can get you back to your car.”
It’s time to get serious. As I rise, I start undoing my blouse. “You either jump on the bed or I’m going to undress.”
His chest rises and falls as he looks away from me. “God, are you sure you’re not drunk? Because I know less crazy dry people.”
Another button loosens. “You think that offends me? Try again.”
Another button.
And another.
The top of my bra is showing.
He sticks out his hand and raises his voice. “Alright, fine!”
“God, you really don’t want to sleep with me, do you.”
His look says that I’m pissing him off. “I’ll jump on my fucking bed, but you keep your fucking shirt on.”
I don’t know whether I’m offended or intrigued. No guy has ever tried to stop me from taking off my top. No straight guy, anyway. I pat the bed. “Giddyup!”
With a displeased smirk, he climbs up on his bed, meeting me. “I’d sooner buy you a fucking trampoline.”
“I have one.”
He chuckles out loud. “Man!” He’s exasperated.
“You see, here’s the problem with us, and why we never got together. I didn’t grow up and you did.”
“Well, that explains a lot.” He grumbles, but I grab his shoulders, grounding myself.
“Okay, here’s how you do it. I’ve practiced this with Bowie and my mom before. You hold on to each other’s shoulders to build momentum, and then you let go, and voila! Okay?”
Another displeased sigh. “You tell anyone at the office that I brought you back to my house to do anything other than fuck you and I’ll kill you. Better yet, don’t tell anyone...not even Bowie.”
“If you shut up, I’ll take this to the grave.”
“Fine.”
I grab his hands and plant them on my shoulders.
Our eyes meet. He’s annoyed and unimpressed, but he’s moving his legs and feet with me.
I’m impressed. I figured by now he’d have me in the car on the way back to the office to be rid of me and never talk to me again.
We start pumping up and down and the flash of a smile crosses his face as we gain momentum.
I think he’s actually starting to have fun, and then I get up far enough that my feet come up from the bed, and he follows suit.
Then we finally jump high enough to get a flip in the belly.
We keep going, bouncing up higher and higher, laughing, once again.
We’re using each other as leverage, jumping up and down on the bed, laughing like children that are taking full advantage of being unsupervised in a hotel room.
I give it one more healthy romp and flop down on my ass, and he follows me.
Both winded and fully silly, we’re chuckling at each other, and I think for a minute he forgets that he’s an adult.
Mission accomplished. “Well, did you get it out of your system?”
“Admit it. That was fun.” I lean up on my elbows.
I know that my hair is a mess and I don’t care.
It’s only the second funnest thing to be doing to get your hair that messy.
““I mean, what’s the point in having all this money and shit, if we can’t fuck shit up a bit, you know?
Jump on the bed, have the food fight, shoot a row of milk cartons by firing squad in your living room with water guns. ”
He snorts a laugh, lying his head back down on the bed. “You are too much.”
I sit up, crossing my legs under me. “I think that I’m just enough. When was the last time you jumped on your bed, Led?”
His face quirks into a smile at my accidental rhyme.
I punch him playfully, recognizing it. “Answer me.”
“Not since I was a kid. And even then, it wasn’t allowed.”
“You are I were raised in such different households.”
“You’re right about that.”
“Tell me that wasn’t fun.”
He bobbles his head, trying to lie, but it’s for not. The smile is telling. “Okay, that was fun.”
“You see? If you had just asked me out when we were teenagers, your life might have taken such a different path.”
“Getting all philosophical on me now, are you. All this from a little jumping on the bed, huh.”
“It’s a fact, Led. I’ve always been like this.” I cluck my tongue. “You missed out.”
“I suppose I did.” He licks his lips. “But there’s nothing that can be done about it now.”
I gesture to the bed with my face scrunched up. “Hell, yes, we can! What did we just do! And this is just a small dose of me!”
He smiles. “Is that your way of saying that you want to spend more time with me?”
I tilt my head. “Would that be so bad?”
He reaches out and touches my face. “No. No, I suppose it wouldn’t be so bad.”
I can’t hide the smirk. My eyes are dancing. “Okay, blow job or red-light green light?”
His answer shocks the shit right out of me.