A story I'll be adding too.
*
"The thing I wanted to tell you about, that I couldn't over the net..."
He's pacing.
It's late evening but she's easily able to pick out his dark brown hair, the navy corduroy coat with the gray shearling collar.
"Phhhhh, here goes." He turns to her, and she knows before she know what he's about to say.
He has his hands clasped, index fingers pointing out, heavy sigh, "Those people you write about-"
"Your one of them.
He stops dead, hands up still clasped unable to look anywhere else but in her eyes.
"Bingo."
It's not strong or mocking, but haunted and empty.
He's then wincing a little before asking, "What gave me away?"
She's stepping forward one foot and they are both startled still.
Why did she do that?
No clue.
"I feel you, like, your skin is mine."
She's admitting something she doesn't want to and he opens himself wide to this vulnerability.
"That's because, you have insight. You and I, we understand each other."
She's shaking her head in wonder, "I don't know how."
His smile is awe filled.
"I do. I could tell reading your words, the way your mind works, just like mine. You might not feel compelled to do it, but you more than empathize."
She looks down at the blacktop.
It's cold.
She dressed well in her slim fit wool coat but her cheeks are rose-red and her air hangs easily discernible.
"Where do we go from here?"
He smiles open mouth at her question, chilly night cutting his throat.
"That's the dilemma I have. I was going to call tonight off, Lace. I was going to do it to protect you, and then, I felt that I'd never felt that way before. Never needed to keep anyone safe. I don't understand feelings like that. Love, hate, I watched them long enough to be a pretty good mimic, but..."
He starts pacing again.
So calm in his facials, yet amped in his toes.
"I never had anything for me before, and I got selfish, and I just wanted to see if maybe, you'd let me give it try."
She shifts on her feet, stopping herself from stepping forward again.
"What?"
He meets her eyes, his gaze like live wires.
"You and me. Let me see if I can feel something and not have to pretend."
She should be scared.
Is, yet it's neck in neck with intrigued.
"You want a relationship?"
He looks, blinks once and purses his lips, not the way he'd put it.
"I think we could come to an agreement, that might be better."
She's as stern as he is, "An agreement."
He puts his hand on the hood of the truck,
"I don't want to own you, that's, sadistic, not that I'm NOT sadistic," he chuckles darkly, "Just not in that way."
She narrows her eyes, "You wants rights, or, access."
He cocks his head, "Close, I'm trying to find the words, I'm not normally...you got my tongue twisted little miss writer."
She flushes but maintains her serious demeanor.
"I'm not thinking as easily either."
He meets her eyes, "That means you're excited. That's what I want to hear."
He paces a minute, "I've already got your mind. I like it, it's why I'm here! I want your...no."
He lowers his head, looking under his brows, "Every pleasure point on your body, or more crudely, your holes would be mine. For my pleasure. I know how to damage people. I want to see what it's like to please someone, and myself, at once."
She tightens, gushes and her thighs clench, he sees her eyes, that caged rabbit look that's beautifully driven on lust and he knows.
She's his.
Or will be.
"That's your half."
It's smooth when she answers.
He tips his chin, "My half?"
She licks her lips, looks diplomatic, he feels a smirk start in his mouth.
Loving this.
"What's mine?" Flat, she's not stated her wants yet, so he offers, "You mean what do you get?"
She raises her head, regally, and that's what keeps him from grabbing himself in gesture.
