That Night Ten Years Ago
“Siblings?”
“One. Brother. And you?” I asked.
“Only child. Favorite movie?”
“That’s easy. Forrest Gump.”
“Really?” Her forehead scrunched.
“Am I not allowed to like the movies I like?”
“I’m just surprised.”
“Why? A lot of people like that movie.”
“I don’t know. You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who likes the kind of movies a lot of people like, Doc.”
I smiled at that. She thought I was special. I thought she was, too.
“Okay, what’s your favorite movie?”
“Steel Magnolias, of course.” She made a duh face.
“How cliché,” I threw back at her and she tossed a piece of popcorn at me. The woman was destroying my apartment. She was like a one man wrecking team. There was evidence of her all over my apartment, from spilled food to pieces of popcorn. Her clothes were strewn about along with the plates from our dinner earlier.
“It’s not cliché. It’s a damn southern classic. You can’t be a woman in the South and not have seen it, and you most certainly can’t help but to love it.” She clutched a pillow to her naked chest. “Gah, it makes me cry.”
Damn, she was pretty. I wanted to keep her. She was almost small enough, I thought maybe I could stick her in my pocket and take her everywhere with me always. She’d make for good entertainment, that was for sure. She was funny and sweet and had this innate kind of happiness people hardly ever possessed anymore. She’d be the type of girl you wouldn’t have to try to please all the time. No, Kelly was pleased all on her own.
She rolled over onto her back and her breasts were on full display. I loved that she wasn’t ashamed of her body, and she shouldn’t be because there was absolutely nothing there that wasn’t fucking magnificent. And, God, my cock was already hard for her again and I’d just had her. We’d spent much of the night like this. Tangled up in each other, naked, and hot and whispering into the dark room of my apartment.
I’d never had a night like this before. Where I felt so completely connected to someone. Where it seemed there was only us in this dark space, talking in quiet voices, making love in hushed tones, not because we were afraid someone would hear, but because we didn’t want them to. This night was just ours. Me and Kelly Potter, we were like fucking magic. I wanted to keep the glamour going forever.
I ran a hand through her hair. If I was learning one thing, it was that the woman loved to be petted, stroked, touched. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t really fucking enjoy obliging her.
“So, now that you’re done with school, what are you going to do?” I asked, toying with the ends of her hair that grazed her neck.
She let out a low laugh. “Piss everyone off, I reckon.”
I smiled at her. “Why?”
“Because I don’t want to teach music. I don’t want to be stuck in a classroom all day. I want to travel. I want to see the world. I want to make music.”
That didn’t surprise me a bit. The thought of someone trying to pin down this beautiful butterfly’s wings made me sad. “I take it your family doesn’t want you to do that?”
She shook her head. “No. I mean, I went to school for music education, but it was always a backup plan for me. I have a few friends I’m in a band with. We do okay. I thought I’d travel a bit with them. My mom isn’t crazy about the idea, but she does want me to see the world before I settle down. My dad isn’t really in the picture. He took off when I was a kid, so she was a single mom my entire childhood. She wants me to have a plan. A career, then a husband, then babies.” She let out a long breath. “Her dreams aren’t my dreams, though.”
“And your dreams are to be in this band and travel the world?”
She pursed her lips and then smiled. “No, my dreams are to make it big, Anthony. I’m talking about roaring crowds, blinding lights, deafening music, and my drumsticks. I want to play for millions. For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to play music. When I was only eight I’d begged my mom for a drum set. She knew it was going to be hella noisy, but she’d finally caved and that was all she wrote.”
Fuck, she was amazing. “Those are some pretty big dreams. What will you do if you don’t make it?”
She pulled that plump bottom lip into her mouth and sucked before letting it go with a pop and looked me in the eye. “I don’t know, Doc, but if your dreams don’t scare you, then you aren’t dreaming big enough.”
I must have been losing my mind because if I’d been a woman in a Jane Austen book I would have been swooning my ass off. This woman and her words. They overwhelmed me. Her goodness, her maturity, her sincerity, they were the sweetest thing I’d ever witnessed in my life and even though I’d laid my lips to her countless times tonight I felt a need to kiss her like I’d never experienced. The want rushed over my skin like a thousand tiny stars shooting across the sky.
I leaned over her quickly, but it felt too slow. I needed her now. “Kiss me,” my lips whispered across her own, breathlessly, wantonly.
Sparkling aquamarine eyes stared up at me. “Where?” she whispered back.
“Everywhere.” And I didn’t mean the warm spot behind my ear that she’d already realized was my weakness. Not the dimples in my cheeks that she couldn’t help but to smack sweetly as we lay in bed and talked. No, I wanted this woman to ravish my spirit, my heart.
Kiss my soul, my eyes begged.
I wanted our bodies, our lips so entangled you couldn’t tell one from the other. Until we were just floating—one. Terrified, exhilarated, but dreaming big, together.
Her mouth touched my own with unwavering intensity, her lips meeting mine, searing through me, tearing me down and all the while building me up. Just like I needed. Of course. It was like she knew me better than I did and all in a few hours. I was a goner.