A Different Kind of Forever - By Dee Ernst Page 0,36

spilling out of the closet. She covered her head with her hands, and let out an involuntary cry as the shoes tumbled down. She ducked for a moment as they all fell to the floor, then she looked down in dismay. There were shoes everywhere.

Michael burst into the room. “Are you okay? What happened?” He looked around and said, in a different tone, “What happened?”

“My shoes tried to commit suicide. They all jumped.” She turned to him. “I’m sorry. I’ll be ready in a sec.”

She got down on her knees and began to pile the shoes together. Michael got down next to her. “Let me help you. Here.” He put two shoes in a box.

Diane looked at him and shook her head. “No. These are two different shoes.”

Michael sat, legs crossed Indian-style, and looked around him. “But they’re all the same.”

“No, they’re different. See, this has a rounded toe. This one is squared off.”

He picked up two more shoes. “They’re all black. You have, what, ten pair of black shoes?”

Diane grabbed the shoes from his hand. “You’re mocking me. I can tell.”

“No.” He picked up an empty box and handed it to her, controlling his laughter. “I would never do that. I grew up with three women. If nothing else, I learned that the relationship between a woman and her shoes is a sacred thing.”

She looked at Michael. There was a half-smile on his face. His dark hair curled around his ear. His lashes were perfectly straight and very long. She touched his cheek and he turned to her. She kissed him very carefully, catching his lower lip in her teeth and pulling gently.

“I think I’ve made a decision,” she said in a whisper.

“Yeah?” He was very close.

“Yeah.”

“So,” he said, his voice rough, “what do you want to do?”

“Everything.” She kissed him, slow, teasing kisses, her hands on either side of his face. His arms went around her, drawing her to the floor. Her hair fell around his face and she kissed his cheek, neck, the hollow at the base of his throat. She pulled off his tie, and began to unbutton his shirt, her tongue hot against his smooth flesh. Her fingertips brushed him gently, thumbs against his nipples, and she heard an intake of breath, and felt him strain his body against the floor.

“Shit,” she muttered. “Wait.” She reached back and grabbed a condom out of her top drawer. She held it up before him, then pushed it into his palm. She pulled his shirttail from the waist of his jeans and unsnapped them in a flick of her thumb, pulling down the zipper. He lifted his hips as she eased them down and tossed them aside, then bent to take him into her mouth. He made a sound, soft, and he moved uncontrollably as she closed her lips around him, one hand running lightly across the tight muscles of his abdomen, the other stroking him, following the rise and fall of her mouth. His hips moved, imperceptibly at first, matching her rhythm, and he grew harder.

Diane flicked her tongue, delighted with the smell of him, inhaling deeply as she felt her own desire grow. He filled her mouth, not just the feel of his flesh, but the taste of him, sweet, and he made another sound, a low groan, and his legs moved, his hips rising faster. His hand grabbed her hair.

“Wait,” he gasped. “Wait.”

She lifted her head, hitched up her dress, and swung one leg over, straddling him. He sat up and pulled her to him, and his hands came up her legs, under her dress, pulling it over her head. His breath was ragged, and he pulled away her bra as she pressed herself against him, feeling him through the thin fabric of her panties. Her breasts felt tender, and when he put his mouth to her nipple, she whimpered. His hands were on her hips, holding her as she rubbed herself against him, feeling a rise, a swell of pleasure.

She had wrapped her legs around him and he moved, lifting her, then laid her down beneath him. She was gasping, eyes closed, her arms outstretched, fingers gripping the carpet, and he slid his hands under her panties, pulling them down, kissing hungrily her ankle, then the tender spot inside her knee, and the soft flesh of her thighs. She arched her back as she felt his tongue, and her eyes flew open.

“Oh, God,” she whispered, and she tried to push her hips upward, but