We lay in each other’s arms for what seemed like hours, stroking our hands over each other’s bodies, drawing out the connection before we had to return to reality.
She gave me one last kiss, and turned glowing eyes on me. I loved that I could put that look in her eyes.
“We should probably paint your room now.”
My arms tightened, and I glided a hand down to her butt cheek, giving it a squeeze. “Mm. Maybe later. Wanna go another round?”
She leaned up on her elbow, giving me a view of her bare tits, urging my hand to slide up and cover one. “Maybe later. Let’s paint. It’s probably got a film on top by now.”
“Bah, we’ll just peel it off. It’ll be fine.” I tweaked her nipple, making it pucker. I didn’t want to let her go just yet.
Veronica slipped out of my grasp, and stood naked beside the mattress. I greedily drank my fill, starting from her hair, coming free from its braid, to her beautiful face watching me with undisguised amusement and affection. All that smooth caramel skin, breasts peaked with dark nipples, showing signs of stubble rash where I’d feasted on her. The contours of her firm stomach, and the dip of her navel in the middle, leading down to the thin line of curls that led to heaven—yum.
“I’m going to clean up. You’re welcome to stay here and let Mrs. Palmer entertain you with her five sisters.” She wiggled her fingers at me, before spinning on her heel and sauntering away.
“Cheeky minx. You’ll pay for that later.” Her laughter bounced off the tile walls of the bathroom; the best kind of music.
I dressed quickly and met her in our room, feeling more enthusiastic about getting this job done. If she thought she would be sleeping across the hall after that experience, she was dead wrong. This was our room now. She picked the colour, putting her stamp on it. She could decorate it however she wanted. I didn’t care, as long as she was in it. With me.
Ronnie
We spent the next several hours transforming his bedroom into a tranquil oasis. I was right. The stormy grey, the same colour as his eyes, worked well with the white trim and ceiling, and his wooden furniture.
I was exhausted, but I’d never been happier. The soreness in my muscles lingered as a reminder of what we shared through work and play. The way his talented hands knew exactly how to draw out my pleasure. My mind wandered to the way his tongue had tasted me that morning, every time I stroked the paintbrush. He stopped what he was doing every now and then to cross the room and plant a kiss on my lips. My jeans had paint hand prints on the bum from his tight grip.
As we fell onto his mattress again after a productive day, I lay on top of his body, our skin still damp from our shower. We never bothered to get dressed afterwards, opting to fall into bed to continue what we started under the spray of water.
He gripped my face and I gripped his as we sat chest to chest, our bodies intimately connected. Limbs tangling, hips rocking, our harsh breaths scored our faces as we looked into each other’s eyes. I didn’t want to lose this. I’d opened up something powerful, something that meant more than I could’ve imagined. There was no way it could be contained again.
I felt vulnerable, like my body had been flipped inside out, with my heart and organs exposed. Everything that was going on inside of me, there for him to see. Nervous panic and liberation battled for the same space in my soul. But Brad drained my fears with long drugging kisses, and the words, “I love you,” whispered into my neck.
Pulsing electricity spread from my centre. I could happily drown in this tsunami of erotic sensations. Brad groaned and encircled his arms around me tighter, absorbing the pounding waves, taking back everything he gave me. He lay my limp, satiated body back on the mattress, placing the covers over me to keep away the cold while he left me to take care of the condom. Slipping under the warm cocoon with me, he pulled me close and picked up a few of my dark curls.
“I love your hair.”
“I love your hands in my hair.”
“Really? Thank God, ‘cause I wanna touch it all the time. By the way, did you leave the light on in your room?”
I hadn’t been in there since I woke up. “Uh, no.”
“Hm. Weird. Must be a faulty switch.”
No, it’s your sister.
“Probably be best if you move into my room. Just to be safe.”
“Oh, really?”
“Definitely. It’s the best room, and I’m a good sharer.”
Placing my hand on his chest to feel the steady beat of his heart, I had to ask, “Are you sure that’s a good idea? We’ve only known each other for four months. Yeah, we live together, but that’s moving in, moving in. You wouldn’t have any space of your own in case you got sick of me.”
“I’ve known you for a lot longer than that.”
I tilted my head up. The steady beat under my palm thumped harder. “Huh? What are you talking about?”
“Erm, well … I saw you last winter. I wasn’t in a good place after Tish died. I was doing reckless shit and binge drinking every weekend. Nearly lost my job. Let’s just say I’d had a bad night with no sleep and a run-in with the cops. I decided to sit at South Bank to watch the sunrise and cool off. You raced
