Page 62 of The Stars in the Sky
"Guess so. I'm drunk, though. I mean, I'm not drunk, though." Then he got the sweetest look on his face, almost imploring. "Is kissing off the, uh, I mean, off the table?"
"No," I answered, smiling and getting a little closer.
"Then c'mere, baby," he said, pulling me up from my cross-legged position and into his lap, then leaning back and lying down so that I was straddling him.
There was no other way of describing our kiss than a stupid, drunk, sloppy, wet kiss. It was epically bad. By the end, he was on top and we were both giggling, nose to nose.
Will giggling was a thing to behold.
"We're better at kissing without the tequila," I said against his tan neck.
"Shucks," he said again. "I'm sorry. Told ya you were gonna get me fucked up. I'll kiss you better when it wears off."
"Okay, you got a deal."
He smiled, still on top of me, now between my legs, and leaned down to kiss my cheek, I think, but missed and kissed my ear. "Wanna hear my loophole?"
"Yeah."
"So, no sex, right? For-like-two-weeks?" he slurred, as he nibbled my ear.
"Right," I said, laughing. He was a pretty obvious drunk.
"So no," he paused for a second, "fucking, meaning no," pause, nibble, "sexual intercourse."
"You got that one right, cowboy." I wiggled under him and he came up and looked at me in the eyes.
"But kissing doesn't count."
"You already know that." I ran my hands through his hair and enjoyed the feel of his body on mine. Even if we weren't having sex, and even if he was not himself right now, he still felt good pressed to me. He still felt like he belonged there.
"Does oral sex count?" He was serious, but I burst out laughing.
"It has sex in the name, Will," I scolded him.
"Okay, so what about sex with yourself? That's not sex with me." And he reached over and pushed my hair behind my ear and kissed me behind my ear, sloppily. Drunk, Playful Will was around.
"What are you saying?" I asked, distracted by his attentions.
"If you went in the shower tonight, after this," pause, kiss, "fascinating discussion—"
He paused and brought his head up to look at me again.
"What?"
"Nothin'," he said.
"No one word answers, dude," I said, and I shook my finger at him.
"Just thinking about you in the shower and that is not helping the stiffy you gave me by the image of you walking around in public topless."
"You just said stiffy," I giggled.
He looked at me, confused, eyebrows furrowed. "What would you call it?"
"Boner."
"That . . . that too," he slurred. "So, if you get yourself off, and I don't touch you and you don't touch me, then we're not breaking your rules," he concluded, proud of himself.
