I want to enjoy every minute of this. It feels as if my whole life has lead up to this moment. This moment of feeling her, breathing her in, touching and savoring every inch of her. I need to memorize every second and feel the mystic dimensions that my mind travels to whenever I’m with her.

Slowing my touch, I undress her one article of clothing at a time. First, her sweater falls to the floor. Then the buttons to her blouse slip through my fingers, and I push the fabric to free her chest. Her hair tumbles out of its tie and falls down her back. It is the sexiest thing I have ever seen, and I feel myself harden at her beauty.

I trace my hand along the curves of her back and feel for her bra strap. She stares at me with her big orbs of blue, and I groan.

“God, I want you so bad,” I say, releasing her bra from her body.

“I want you, too,” she purrs, lying herself on the bed. Her body twists and turns, ready for me to savor. I climb the bed slowly, afraid she may put a halt to this, and I don’t ever want to stop.

Her soft skin is pliable under my lips. I start at her belly and run my tongue up to her breasts. Nipples so sweet, I have to suck them to taste their fine flavor.

My fingers pluck the buttons on her tight jeans, and I run them off her legs. The hunger in her eyes grows, and I smile at her pleasure.

I throw my shirt off and hear a whimper escape her throat. Smiling, I climb back on top of her. I return to her breasts and focus all of my attention on them. She rubs her fingers through my hair, and I love the feel of it.

Instinctively, I grind myself into her core, and she returns the gesture. My jeans come off in a flash. Her panties are pink and call to me. I want to seek shelter there, lost in her warm center.

Gliding over smooth legs my hands can’t stop touching, she squirms under my fingers.

She begs me to kiss her, and I can’t deny the need in her fine whisper. I lower my head and kiss her with everything I have. The passion coursing through me is enough to make me scared for my life, but she centers me. She controls me. I can’t walk away from this in the morning.

I explore her mouth with my tongue and feel the suction she creates that sends a shockwave through my body. My feelings pour through me, and I can’t survive without her. I continue kissing her as she wraps her legs around me.

She begs me to go further, and, as if I’m no longer in control, I remove my boxers. I tuck my fingers in the lace of her panties and tug them down her long legs. She opens herself to me and the sight is paradise, something to treasure. Her body is a temple in which I will worship for as long as she lets me.

She moans my name, and I almost come undone by her erotic sounds.

With her underneath me, I enter her soft opening in one slow thrust. She is so wet for me.

“Oh god, Vanessa, you’re so tight, baby.” I groan, sinking in deeper.

“Please don’t stop,” she cries, grabbing my hair in her hands.

“Never.”

I can’t hold on much longer, with the way she pumps her body beneath me. I grab a handful of her hair and bring my nose to smell the coconuts and pineapples it exudes.

She feels so good. I lose myself in the ecstasy of it. Our bodies grind as I hold her gaze. Her eyes convey pure pleasure, but I can see there is something more in them. Their clarity questions me, asking me to hold onto her, to protect her and never let go. I need her more than I’ve ever needed anyone. My body moves toward the most intense gratification I have ever experienced.

“Vanessa, I can’t hold on much longer,” I groan, feeling her body rock. Her tempo picks up, and she is close to releasing herself.

She begins to moan and groan, and the sound of her orgasm makes me free myself of all emotions. I growl into her long tendrils, wrap it around my fingers, and gently tug. Limbs shake as I ride the waves of my release.

Through the night, I hold her as she sleeps on my chest. I’m a little scared, as I have new feelings running through me. I’ve been obsessed by the feel of her, and now I’m an addict to her body; it’s like a drug I can never get enough of.

The next day I give Vanessa a ride into work and then head home to finish my ethics paper for Professor Cahill.

Vanessa will be at work all day, and I miss her the moment she walks away.

Inside my bedroom, I start on my paper on the ethical actions of people in positions of power. Is my father an ethical person? Values have always been a big deal for him. I work on it for a while and then venture to the kitchen for lunch.

Tony is sitting in the kitchen at the table, eating a hot dog. Just the person I want to talk with.

“Hey, Tony, can we talk a minute?”

“Sure, bro, what’s up?” he asks, finishing up the last of his lunch.

I open the fridge and peer inside to find something that will sate my appetite.

“Did you ask Vanessa out and try to kiss her the other night?”

“What do you mean?” His eyebrows arch as he studies me.

“Dude, you know what I mean. Did you ask her out a while ago?”

He shakes his head and lets out a healthy chuckle. “Yeah, I may have. I ask out so many girls, they all blend. As for the kiss, I was drunk.”

Tony’s dated many girls, sometimes a few at the same time. I take little stock in what he says and let it roll off my shoulders.

“There isn’t anything else going on?” I ask as I get the ingredients together to make a sandwich.

“Nah, man.”

“Listen close. If you mess with her, then you mess with me. Got that?”

“Dude, chill. I’m not after her.”

“Okay,” I blurt out.

“So how are things going with her?” he asks, placing his plate into the sink.

“Going good.” I don’t get into the depth of our relationship with him but think back to the bet.

“A few weeks left to go,” he nudges, trying to berate me.

“Yeah, I’m bringing her to brunch with my parents at the club.”

His eyes widen. “You are?”

“Yeah.” I give him my half-grin and hear my phone ring in the bedroom. I race down the hall and launch onto the bed to answer.

“Hello,” I say into the phone.

“Hey, Trace.”

“Who is this?” I ask, looking at the phone without recognizing the number.

“It’s Hailey,” she says, sounding dejected.

“Oh, hey, how are you?” Shit, why did I answer the phone?

“I’m okay. What are you doing tonight?”

“Not much,” I say, knowing Vanessa has to work all night, but planning maybe to follow Jordan around a little later.

“Oh, well, I was wondering if you were going to Sofa Kings later.”

“Nah, not tonight,” I say, wishing I could get off the phone.

“Oh. Are you still seeing that blonde bitch?” she asks, shocking me by her choice of words about Vanessa.

“Excuse me?”

“Are you still seeing her?” she screeches.

The psycho comes out in her tone, and now I need to end this call.

“Look, Hailey, I’m not into jealous girls. Gotta go,” I say, hoping she gets the hint.

“Trace, I don’t understand what you see in her.”

“Hailey, just stop. I’m not interested in you that way.”

“Fine.” She hangs up the phone. I need to keep her hostility away from Vanessa.

After working on my paper, I head out and hunt Jordan down. Now, where do I begin? I decide on Vanessa. The Cobra starts with a rumble, and I drive down the road. Something is off about Jordan. I want to find out what it is.

I drive around the parking lot of the plaza where Vanessa works and look for the little red pickup truck.

It’s parked in the last spot in the back. I find a good vantage point and park.

A few minutes later, his truck pulls out, and I follow. I stay far enough away to not be seen but close enough to keep tabs on him.

I follow him into an apartment complex. He slams his truck door and walks to the last apartment in the neighborhood. Great, I’ve followed him home. Now what?

Defeated, I head back home, upset that I’m still no closer to figuring out who is bothering Vanessa. I pull up to my house and shut off the engine. The house is dark, and I’m grateful that no one is home. There is a little note taped to the front door.

Leave her alone, she is mine.

I crumple the note and enter my house. Anger boils through me, and I re-open the letter, reading it over and over. One thing I know: it wasn’t Jordan who placed this note here. I look at the handwriting, which appears to be about as bad as a doctor’s scribble. I’m barely able to make out the letters, but the message is loud and clear. Problem is I don’t heed a threat. I don’t intend to stay away from her, and any note trying to dissuade me from it isn’t going to stop me. Who is this jerk, telling me to leave her alone?

I head back to my bedroom and throw the note on top of the dresser. Lying on the bed, I doze off.

A while later, I awaken. The sun is no longer shining through the windows. I look at my phone and see it’s 3 a.m. One missed text bleeps from my phone.

Miss you. Hope your day is going well.

3 o’clock—Vanessa is sure to be asleep. I run into the kitchen to grab a glass of water and realize the house is still empty. Friday night: I guess everyone is out partying.

I head back into the bedroom and let sleep consume me.

The house is still quiet the next morning when I glance at my phone and see I’ve slept the morning away. It’s already 11 a.m. Where is everyone?

My phone rings, and I lunge for it.

“Hello,” I say into the phone.

“Trace, how are you?” I hear Mr. Roberts’s voice pound into the phone.

“Hello, sir.”

“I want to go over the schedule for this summer with you. Are you free right now to discuss it?”

“Sure. Sounds great,” I answer.

He lectures me on and on about the importance of the internship. The same thing my father has been droning on about for weeks. He also adds that he hopes nothing will distract me.

We hang up after discussing a few details, and I’m exhausted just listening to him. This summer internship is a big deal for my father, but I hate how they both keep reminding me about that again and again.

I put on my swim trunks and head to the beach to surf my troubles away.