Dirty English

I cleared my throat. “Good. Now, use a quick jab when you hit, keeping one fist up to protect your body.” I took a step back and demonstrated a jab while she watched, her eyes big as saucers.

“You’re beautiful,” she said, her voice full of awe. “And, I love how you move. I could watch you forever. Of course, you are half naked.” She blushed and bit her lip. “Sorry. It’s just … you have to know how great looking you are, and then you’re so fit and muscled up, and well, the sex appeal factor is just off the charts. But all that aside, you’re a nice guy too, and …” She trailed off, her tongue dipping out to caress her lower lip. “Sorry. I’m talking awkwardly. Again. I seem to do that a lot when you’re around. I’ll shut up now.”

My heartbeat had kicked up, and part of me wanted to kiss her, but what kind of guy would I be if I made a move on her after what had just happened?

I rubbed my mouth. Her chest rose more rapidly and her eyes glittered with a heat that had been banked for far too long.

She wanted me.

A few beats of silence passed.

A car horn blared in the distance but neither of us moved.

All I wanted in that instance was her .

I gazed down at her mouth. Licked my own. “You need to stop looking at me like that if you don’t want me to kiss you, Elizabeth.”

“God, please, kiss me.” Her eyelashes fluttered down and that was all I needed to close the small distance between us and press my lips to hers, my tongue diving in to take control of her mouth.

She tasted like mint. Like perfection.

My hands snaked around her waist and I tugged her against my chest, my mouth plundering the softness of hers. We kissed for a long time, our mouths learning each other, neither of us in a hurry to rush, yet the intensity was well off the charts.

Sweet yet hot.

I wanted to prolong the kiss, drag it out.

But you can’t kiss forever.

We pulled apart after a while and stared at each other. I rested my forehead against hers.

I wanted her.

But what did she want?

The soft echo of rain falling and splashing on her balcony hit our ears.

She closed her eyes, a soft smile on her face. “It’s funny that we’re kissing and now it’s raining. Two of my favorite things.”

“Yeah?” She was slowing us down. I went with it. I didn’t want to rush her. Not yet anyway.

She nodded. “I love the sound rain makes, how it taps against the roof, rhythmic and steady like a heartbeat. The best place to hear it is on a metal roof, lulling you to sleep. My trailer had a roof like that. Rain made me happy as a kid, just to get caught in a downpour so hard it’s like a white noise all around you. The best is when it catches you without an umbrella or rain boots and you go splash in a puddle.” A small smile flashed across her face. “I miss that feeling of being free and young, like I’m a superhero and nothing can touch me. We’re all so innocent as kids, and then life happens and we grow up and make stupid mistakes. We get hurt.”

She let out a small surprised laugh. “It’s funny—I haven’t talked like this with someone in forever. And today, I actually drew some pictures—that’s a freaking miracle because I’ve been stuck in some kind of artist limbo. I know I’m not making any sense, and I’m rambling, but it’s just—just there’s something about you like you get me, and I—can’t put my finger on it, but I like it.” She bit her lip.

I took her hand. I didn’t ask questions. She didn’t need them right now. “Come on then.” I tugged her through the flat.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

She followed along behind me as I led her into her bedroom and stopped at the balcony door. Rain pelted down the glass door, the drops splashing on the concrete outside.

“Let’s get soaked then. No rain boots, no umbrellas, just skin and rain.”

“Naked?”

I grinned. I couldn’t help it. She was so damn cute. I kissed her nose. “No, silly, we’ll keep our clothes on this time. If I was naked with you, we’d be fucking, not doing this.” I slid open the door and pulled her outside.

She followed me and stood on the balcony as the rain came down.

I got lost a little. Watching her . Taking in her face as she tipped it up to feel the wetness.

She glanced over at me. “You’re staring.”

I grinned. “Because you look like a drowned rat.” Because she looked beautiful.

She laughed. “Come on, don’t make me feel like the idiot out here. This was your idea. Dance with me.”

“Why are you always trying to get me to dance? What if I don’t have any rhythm? I am a big bloke, you know.”

But she ignored me and tugged me around the balcony in some awkward square dancing moves she insisted on.

I laughed. She laughed.

I showed her how to box waltz just like my mum had shown me.

After that, she did some baton routine she’d done at prep school.

And we just got sillier and sillier, our laughter filling up the night. We did some moves from Grease and Dirty Dancing . I looked bloody ridiculous, but I didn’t care.

In that moment, life— we —were perfect.

I’d never been like that with a girl before. Spontaneous and fun. Real.

Later, we ran inside to get dry. She grabbed a towel for herself from the bathroom and then handed me another. I stepped inside, shut the bathroom door, and dried off the best I could while I heard her tearing apart her bedroom, slamming drawers.