Page 41 of Love and Other Mental Health Concerns
Our energy shifts from serious and significant to engulfing by the end of dinner, with no mistaking that we are both experiencing it. The reminder of our time in my office yesterday, her vulnerability, and the admission regarding how long it’sbeen since she has been touched by anyone has set my skin on fire. I have never felt so connected to a person, both of us aware of where our emotional exposures lie, and the trust that requires us to place in one another.
“This way,” I take her hand, the key to Carlos’s Cupcake shop jingling in my pocket as we walk. Her palm is warm in mine, the scent of her pummeling my senses with each whip of her curls as we stride out of the square. The shop is only a block away, and I am trying to use this time to calm down, remind my cock who is in charge tonight.
“Cupcakes, I knew it!” She is fucking luminous in the streetlights guiding us down the street, and I stand corrected, my cock may actually be in charge tonight.
No! Slow down.
“I might have been tipped off that they are your favorite, and Carlos left us a special experience for tonight.” I unlock the door, although she is quickly the one dragging us inside. Placing my hand on her lower back, I guide her toward the rear of the shop and into the kitchen. There is a tray waiting for us in one of his refrigerators with unfrosted cupcakes and several different frosting bags. “Tonight, we get to make our own. Whatever flavor combinations you want.” She stands at the counter in the center of the kitchen, assessing her choices, hair falling over her shoulders, and that collarbone I can’t get enough of on full display.
“This is so much fun! Thank you, Nick.” My insides twist further when she says my name like that. Like she means it, like it means something coming out of her mouth.
“You’re welcome, now make some choices.”
“You are a bit bossy; ya know?” she laughs at me and starts icing a vanilla cupcake with some coconut cream cheese frosting.
“You have no idea how bossy I can be.” I swing around the counter and come up behind her, sticking my face in the hairresting on her neck. I put hands on either side of her, leaning into the counter with my chest flush against her back. She tenses, so I start to pull away, a reminder to go slow, and maybe that was too forward. I’m not used to feeling so unsure about the next move, but I am very sure that my body was mourning the loss of her heat.
“I would like to find out.” She says with a sultry inflection to her voice, pressing herself back into my chest. Message received; I stop retreating. I keep her caged with my chest and arms, and she spins around to face me, holding her cupcake. She’s staring me down, slowly licking the frosting off her cupcake.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my eyes unable to focus on anything but the way her tongue is manipulating the icing.
“Licking.” This teasing side of her isn’t something I have experienced yet, and it weakens my knees, a sensation I thought was invented in the movies until this moment. I feel the back of my neck heat.
“Licking.” I repeat like she’s teaching me English. She dips her finger in the frosting, and then sucks it lightly off her finger. I’m hard. So hard, I shift my hips back slightly to make sure she can’t tell that I am practically a 15-year-old around her. I want her to find out, but not yet.
“You want to try my frosting, Nick?”Fuck.I nod slowly in case any sudden movements wake her up from whatever seductive trance she is in. Knowing that this is a side of her that no one has seen in a long time is only adding to the pressure in my jeans.
“Immediately.” She dips her finger in her frosting again, holding it up for me to try. My mouth wraps around her and I gently use my tongue to massage the cream down my throat. Her eyes are glassy, and she is fixated on my mouth. I am obsessing about her lips; the bottom one she is now gently biting. I suckoff the last of the sugar and our eyes meet, hers fluttering ever so slightly.
We are both breathing recklessly now, our chests rising and falling to their own rhythms, skin flushed. The taste of her finger in my mouth is a torturous tease. I’m paralyzed, any more physical contact with her and I may lose all control, but I don’t want to have her for the first time in this kitchen. I told myself I would go slow, although she keeps challenging that idea. I also respect Carlos too much, and the things I am thinking about doing to her would violate several health codes.
“My apartment is two blocks from here.” I hear her say.
“Yes…I remember. I was thinking…six years, Marcy. Maybe we should take things slower? Wouldn’t that make more sense?” She looks at me like I dumped ice water on her.
“Right, six fucking years Nick.” Oh, I annoyed her. “…and we have been dancing around each other going on months. I am happy to take things slow if that is really what you want, but I would like to take you home.” That’s all the convincing I needed.
“We should go there. I mean…is it okay if I come?...Come over! God. Damn it.” I am really flushed now; my vision is nearly blurry. Not to brag, but I am never not the picture of the confidence when bringing a woman home. Right now, I can’t find my feet.
“Yes Nick, you can come…over.” I might pass out.
She giggles, clearly understanding what she is doing to me. I take the cupcake tray and put it next to the sink like Carlos asked. Taking Marcy’s hand, we head back toward the door and out onto the street, locking the door behind us. By now, it’s dark and the streetlights guide our way. In a small town like this, most people have turned in for the night. We aren’t walking by the bar, so we are alone. We have barely said any words to each other since I sucked frosting off her fingers, a new highlight of my entire life.
“Marcy, I’m walking you home. I know it has been a long time since you have been with someone, are you sure want it to be me?” She pauses, seeming to register what I am asking her, my self-doubt rearing its ugly head.
“Yes Nick, I want it to be you. I don’t care how your parents make you feel about yourself; I know you are worth the risk of getting hurt for something great.” She makes the statement without hesitation. I stop her and turn her towards me, only one block from her place now. Put my hand under her chin so that I am staring directly into her eyes.
“I’m asking you Marcy because I am afraid once I have you, I won’t be able to let go. I had to fix your car to know you were safe, and that was before I felt your tongue on mine. It’s unsettling what I want when it comes to you, and I need you to be aware of that. I want all of you, and I don’t want to share you. Is that what you want too?” I can’t believe these thoughts are coming out of me, never in my life have I felt so covetous, and so vulnerable. I’d be embarrassed at my honesty if this were anyone but her.
She pauses, searching my face for something I can’t pinpoint. “Nick, you weren’t even mine when Isabel walked into your office that day, and the flare of jealousy that radiated through me was unbearable. I’m afraid I may be as needy as you will be once we are together.” The relief that flows through me is palpable.
“So, we are both afraid that we might want the other too much?” I clarify.
“That’s what it sounds like.” She’s beaming at me. “It also sounds like a great start to some codependency issues between us, so we should keep that in check.” Ugh, this woman is great. I can’t wait for couples therapy with her.
“Thank you for that advice. Should we start a search for our Marriage and Family Therapist tonight, or do you think we should wait on that?” I smile, thinking I’m so funny.
“No, tonight I would still like to see what the hype is about.”Oh shit.
