Model Behavior
The first night I went over to her place, she had just arrived back into the city. She'd been away in Europe for work and wanted to waste no time in seeing me again. I was anxious to find out what was behind all our late night texts and flirty face time calls. Were they real? Or had she just needed some fun to stave off her boredom alone on another continent?
I arrived at her door, nervous and sweaty from half walking, half jogging with a humorously oversized bouquet in one hand. She opened the door with her hair still damp from the shower. I could smell her fresh shampoo when she jumped into my arms. Feeling her body stretched against me, one of her hands finding its place in my hair, I felt a flame roaring anew.
I was falling for her. And I was going to do everything in my power to convince her to be mine.
She giggled and blushed at the flowers. I could only try to contain my pride at putting that sweet smile on her face. I was barely keeping my line of sight discreet on the droplets of water running down Jane’s shoulders and collarbone from her earlier shower as she laughed and petted my arm.
Her roommate teased us and asked what had happened while she was away. Jane and I looked at each other—in a moment, all of our late night conversations and pictures flashed through our minds. We sputtered and blushed to her laughter.
After dinner, she and her roommate smoked out the window together. I watched in disbelief that their window on the sixteenth floor had no screen and a straight drop to the courtyard. They offered me a puff but I stuck to the cans of margaritas. My brain was high enough off of her attention. Plus, I didn't want to smoke and get too talkative, possibly ruining my quote unquote "mystery.”
As their chatter started fading into nonsense and their eyes grew heavy, Jane crawled back to me, asking me to stay. But I had no intention of leaving.
I was anchored to the place by the barely-there length of her shorts that exposed the round curve of her ass underneath. My seat on the floor gave me a prime view of her gorgeous legs trailing up. I was hoping she was reacting to me like my body was reacting to hers. Wet.
Her low-cut camisole, well worn and soft over her breasts had me turning my head away whenever she leaned over me.
Every move felt like a trick, or better yet a lure, tempting me closer to take a bite.
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