Page 38 of A Simple Love

“Well, you know I’m here if you need anything. Or even, just someone to listen.” I want her to know that even though I could never be a teacher or won’t completely understand what her job is like, I want her to open up to me and share her struggles and success. I want to be her best friend, the person she tells everything to. That’s the relationship I want with her. That’s the marriage I want with her someday, too.

“Sorry that day I brought your desk to you was kind of tainted by my outburst though,” I still feel awful for how I reacted towards her over Ben, but all I can do now is apologize and vow not to lose my temper again.

She rises from her seat, making her way over to me, grazing my shoulder to turn me to face her. The tongs are still in my hand, the food still on the grill, but all I am aware of right now is her. Those pools of forest green staring back at me are full of acceptance: of my apology, of my need for her, of everything I want to give her. She looks at me and sees me, and it makes me want to be everythingforher.

“I know you’re sorry, Mike, okay? But here’s the thing,” she pauses, looking deeply between my eyes, “I’m not sorry that things happened the way they did, because it lead us to where we are now.” Her smile brightens the darkness that has descended around us and all I can do in lean in and kiss her with a soft brush of my lips.

“Me too, Vic,” I whisper to her while resting my forehead on hers. I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve her, but I’m never letting her go. “Now let’s eat.”

I bring both plates inside to spoon rice beside the meat and veggies, grab the last of the bottle of wine, and make my way back outside to join Victoria. She moans with every bite she takes, complimenting me on the flavors. I am a pretty talented cook if I do say so myself. My addiction to the Food Network is not something I share with anyone, but I’ve definitely learned a thing or two from watching Chopped and multiple cooking shows. That Bobby Flay sure can grill.

Every lick of her lips and sounds she makes keeps the rock hard erection in my pants holding strong. I know Victoria brought a cake for dessert too, but I don’t know if I can wait that long. My body is not just aware of every physical touch between us, but every conversation and feeling I get when I’m around her. I’ve imagined an entire life with her, envisioned her in my house with me, just how we are. I feel like I’m dreaming or having an out-of-body experience. Someone needs to pinch me to remind me this is real.

Holding her hand, memorizing the feel of her delicate fingers in mine, we sit back and relax after clearing our plates.

“That was so delicious, Mike. Thank you,” she says, reaching over to stroke my cheek with the hand I’m not holding. “Who knew you could cook so well. Good thing, because cooking isn’t my forte… now baking on the other hand? That I have in the bag.”

“You’re welcome, Vic. I actually enjoy cooking. It’s easier for me to cook than get takeout since I live far away from town now anyway.”

“That makes sense, and you’re definitely good at it. I can’t wait to see what else you make me in the future,” she winks. The future. Yeah, we have one of those now.

“Are you ready for cake then?”

“How about we clean up first, and then yes… I want to taste your cake.”

That penetrating gaze of hers hits me from her seat, her face clearly depicting she understood my sexual reference. Honestly, I do want to try the cake she brought. But truth be told, I want to taste her too.

“Wanna move inside before the bugs start biting?” The mosquitoes at night are silent predators, waiting to feast on human flesh. But once we get inside, I may not be able to keep my teeth to myself.

“Good idea,” she chuckles, grabbing both of our plates. I follow with the wine bottle and glasses into the kitchen where we rinse the dishes and load them into the dishwasher side-by-side. It’s so normal but so surreal. I’m pretty sure I’ve envisioned a mundane life like this with Victoria so many times, I’ve lost count. But now that she’s here, in my house, I never want her to leave. I want every day with her. I want her, every day.

“Mike,” she breaks the silence after we place the last dish in the rack and she shuts the door to the dishwasher.

“Vic,” I reply, anxiously waiting for what she’ll say next.

“I think… I mean, I want…” Her eyes are focused on the ground between us, her vulnerability coming off of her in waves. She’s fiddling with her hands in front of her and a slight pink tint is flushing over her cheeks.

“Victoria, stop.”

She snaps her head at me, eyebrows drawn together.

“There are no expectations about where tonight has to lead, okay? I’ve waited this long for you, and I think I can wait some more…” I hope to God that she’s referring to sex, otherwise I’ve just assumed that’s what she was talking about. Crap. Why didn’t I just let her finish?

She closes the distance between us, wrapping her arms around my neck while her eyes never leave mine this time. That scent of honeysuckle comes through, followed by pure woman. The feel of her soft curves pressed into my chest, the grip I have on her hips while she’s eliminated any gap of space between us… it’s making it harder to be the good guy right now. But that’s what she deserves.

“I’m done waiting, Mike. We’ve waited so long, what are we waiting for now?” Desperation and longing are all I see as Victoria waits for me to answer.

“Are you sure?” I choke out on one last attempt to do the right thing before I pounce.

She nods. “Yes.”

The sultry rasp of her voice snaps my resolve as I crash my mouth to hers and lift her up in my arms, her legs wrapping around my waist in an awkward attempt made difficult by the tight denim skirt she’s wearing.

“I’m sorry… this skirt…. I can’t,” she’s sighing out of frustration as she almost knees me in the balls while pushing her skirt up enough to close the distance between her core and my waist.

“Just… okay, stop. Let me put you back down,” I chuckle, while Victoria looks less than amused.

“Definitely wore the wrong outfit for that move…”

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