Page 76 of The Problem with Falling
You bewitched me, body and soul.
“This is so corny,” Theo mentioned as he kept working out the knots in my upper back.
“No,” I disagreed, “it’s comforting. You know, when I’m sick, I always, always, always watch this movie on repeat until I’m better. It’s my comfort movie.”
“A corny comfort movie.”
I laughed and turned my body to face him. “Okay, Mr. Grump. What movies do you find comfort in?”
“That’s easy. Only the best holiday movie ever—Die Hard.”
“Uh,Die Hardis not a Christmas movie.”
Theo stared at me as if I’d grown three heads, but he went back to massaging my shoulders, this time with me facing him. “Die Hardis definitely a Christmas movie.Most ardently,” he mocked.
“Okay. Name three reasons it’s a Christmas movie.”
“Fine, one—it takes place in December. Two, it talks about gifts at some point. Three—it’s a Christmas movie!” he exclaimed, making me break out into laughter.
“Those are awful reasons.”
“You didn’t say my reasons had to be soaked in logic.” His fingers kept massaging my upper chest, and I let out a slight moan when he hit a good spot. He arched an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”
I closed my eyes and smiled. “Ooh yeah. Keep going.” He kept massaging, and I melted into the warmth of his fingers. This wassofriendship of us. “What’s another movie you love?” I asked.
“The Truman Show.”
“Okay, we’re getting somewhere,” I murmured, somehow losing a bit of focus as his fingers seemed to move lower and lower down my chest. “What else?”
“Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.”
I placed my hand over my chest. “That’s one of my favorite movies of all time. It makes me sob.”
“Shocking, something makes you sob? I would’ve never imagined,” he teased, still massaging my shoulders. His fingers moved a little lower, and I swore his thumb brushed against my nipple through the thin fabric of my tube top. His finger brushed against it once more, only this time, his hands stayed on top of my breasts as he massaged. “Can I tell you a secret?” he whispered with a hoarse voice.
“What’s that?” I quietly said back.
“I cry during that movie, too.”
I arched an eyebrow, almost too comfortable for my friend to be massaging my breasts. “Mr. Grump has cried before?”
“Very rarely.”
“I’m impressed.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll never see it.”
“Dang. I love seeing men cry.”
He laughed. “Some kind of kink of yours, huh?” His fingers lightly pinched my nipples, making my lips part, and a slight, surprised moan escaped.
“You could say that,” I murmured, placing my hands behind me on the floor and arching my back. His hands kept roaming. I kept moaning.
“What other kinks, friend?” Theo asked as my whole body began to heat. Trembles and pulses took place between my thighs as I stared into the bluest of blue eyes.
I tilted my head as I saw the desire that was pounding between my legs also living within his eyes. I sat up a bit, on my knees, between his legs. My hands rested against his kneecaps for a moment before I began to massage his inner thighs. I bit my bottom lip and shrugged. “I’m not against being pinned down,” I told him.
His hands moved from my chest and down my forearms to my wrists. He then effortlessly laid me down against the living room rug and pinned my wrists to the floor as he hovered over me. “Like this?”
