new and different relationship where we’re finding out if we can be more than friends.”
“We are more,” I clarify. “I know you, but I want to know more about you.”
“Be patient and let me tell you my story at my own pace, please.”
Be patient? I’m a fucking saint.
Does she have any idea how much I’m holding back for her. When I’m with someone, I’m demanding as fuck. Not that I’ve been with any other women in the past couple of years, however, before Abby, I’d be fucking the girl by the second date. But by the fifth date I’d usually already fucked up royally and had to move on. The big difference between Abby and every other girl I’ve dated is that I never considered getting to know them. They weren’t casual fucks, but I didn’t plan on having a serious, long-lasting relationship with them either.
In fact, I can’t remember the last time I’ve taken a woman out on a date. If I wasn’t working, I spent most of my nights on the phone with Abby, unless I flew to Berkeley to spend the weekend with her, or we were here in Tahoe. My heart starts to palpitate when I realize that for the past few years I’ve been dating Abigail Lyons, just doing so without an official title.
“What are you thinking, Weston?”
“When was the last time you went out on a date?” I smirk, waiting for her to catch up with me.
We’re those kind of friends, and now that kind of couple. The kind who know what the other is thinking. We finish each other’s sentences. This new turn of events could mean that I can push things further a lot faster. Then, I remember that earlier today she told me that she wanted to take it slow when it comes to sex.
If sex is a trigger for her, it’s a red flag. She never made it clear if it’s changing the dynamic of our relationship or the act itself that makes her hesitant. Mom should’ve pushed for more information when Abby came to us. If something bad happened to her, I don’t know what I’ll do. I close my eyes tight taking a few deep breaths.
“So, when was your last date?” I repeat the question, relaxing as much as I can. Trying to untie the knot that’s formed in my stomach.
“Formal?” She scrunches her nose. “I haven’t dated in a long time. Between school, work, traveling with you, and your visits, the only person I’ve been going out with for the past couple of years is you.”
Her eyes open wide in surprise at the realization.
“In a way, we’ve been dating since you came back from your year abroad,” I say with a smirk and rise from my seat. “Even there I visited you often. We spent long weekends together either in or around England.”
“That’s … true.” She’s speechless, but I see the flash of amusement behind her eyes.
“There’s a difference though,” I take her into my arms, pulling her tightly against my body, “Now, I can kiss you whenever I want.”
I grab her sweet, beautiful face and kiss her. Her mouth feels like heaven, soft as a cloud. It’s a kiss that makes my head reel. I claim her spirit and hope to win her heart. A small whimper escapes from her lips into my mouth as my tongue thrusts inside her. I tangle my fingers through her wavy hair, claiming her. The real world disappears, melting away like a dream. We embrace in our special place, cocooned from the outside and reality. Just Abby and me.
This moment is everything I wanted. Yet, it’s not enough. I still want more of her.
All of her.
Controlling myself is getting so fucking hard. I swear, staying emotionally close but physically apart requires a particular skill. For the near future I’ll practice the art of balancing lust against patience. I’m sure it’s possible. I’ve been carrying this need for so long. Years.
Still, I’ll wait and give her the necessary space to become accustomed to the idea of us as a couple. It’s not easy to transition from best friends to a couple, and hopefully soon, to lovers.
Fuck. I can’t wait to get deep inside her. My lips demand more from her, and she complies, not by submitting but by matching the intensity of the kiss. The need in me is too much and too fucking hard to control.
I want to fuck her raw.
Hard.
I can’t resist the desire boiling under my skin.
Slow, I