Page 77 of Barefoot Dreams
“That’s the least you could do after you defiled me at the beach and put my noble honor in question.” Julie hiccups again and I think it’s just the cutest darn thing ever.
“I can do that.” Why did I just puff up my chest like a peacock? Wait, what are we doing again? Oh right…getting married.
“What’s the most I can do?”
“Huh?”
“You said the least is marriage. What’s the most I can do?”
Julie stops dead in the middle of the dark street, lit up only by the stars above and a few lit up windows, puckering her lips in thought. Why don’t we have lampposts like all normal towns? Or maybe we do?
Who cares about lampposts…I just made out with Julie Lovinski. I did more than made out with her, and the stupid grin stretching over my numb features is a sure proof of that.
Just what did we drink?
Scratch that, I don’t want to know. It made me fall into my own dream, so I’ll gladly drink it again and again and again and again and again…wait…
“Why did we stop?” I ask when my brain decides to focus long enough.
“I’m thinking.” She taps her puffy lips with her finger.
“About?”
“What the most you can do.” Oh, right.
“And?”
“Shh, still thinking.” I feel her small finger pressed to my lips and nod solemnly. Can I kiss her finger? It’s a very kissable finger. I start puckering my lips against it when she speaks again.
“I want a house with lots of land so I can plant a mil—no, wait—gazillion, trillion fifty-seven and one plants and flowers,” Julie says and resumes walking, yanking on my arm again. And then she stops. Again, making me stumble right into her. “And babies. I want babies.”
“Babies?” I deadpan. “I can do that.”
A huge smile spreads across Julie’s beautiful face and no matter what, no matter what kind of dream this is, I never ever want to forget this image.
I start patting my pants, looking for something. What was I looking for? Oh right, I need a phone.
“Aha!” I exclaim, pulling mine out from my front pocket. “Julie, Birdy, smile like that again.”
“Like what?”
“Like you want all my babies.” As soon as I say it, her face breaks into that smile once again and I quickly snap a picture of it. “There we go. Now, I can always look at you. Even when you’re no longer mine.”
“Griffin?”
“Hm?”
“Can I have all your babies?” Julie asks with that adorably hopeful look in her eyes like that one cat from that one cartoon and I feel desperation like no other to kiss her again.
So, I do just that. I lean in, wrapping my hand around her slender, exposed neck—God, I love it when she wears her hair in that messy up look—and press my lips to hers. Kissing—no, feeling—her smile.
Before I come in my jeans again—we’ve got to stop wasting babies like that—I slide my arms under her legs and lift her up. Her skirt just fluffy enough to allow Julie to wrap her legs around me, immediately, I feel the heat of her pussy against my lower stomach, and I nearly collapse.
It’s illegal how good every inch of her feels.
And I want to feel all her inches. Every nook and cranny. I want it all and I want it with the one girl I wasn’t allowed to have.
“Which way?”
