Howie glanced over at me after getting the fire going. "Hey, I hope this won't sound rude.but you're still, ya know, dripping. You wanna, um.throw your clothes in the dryer for a few minutes?" Howie pointed back toward the laundry room off the kitchen. He seemed genuinely distressed that I might get water on his perfect furniture or carpeting. I didn't know whether to laugh or be offended.
"Sure," I replied slightly sarcastically and carefully walked back through the kitchen. I closed the door to the laundry room and untied the robe. I stripped quickly, threw the robe back on and tossed my wet clothes into the dryer. I could hear someone in the kitchen. When I opened the door, I realized Howie was making tea for both of us. He smiled weakly.
"Sorry, I don't mean to be so picky," he said, stirring honey into his tea. "You want sugar? Honey? Cream?" Now I felt bad for being such a snot. He was being so nice. We took our mugs and headed back to the room with the fireplace. He politely motioned for me to sit next to him. "Make yourself comfy. Looks like you'll be here awhile." I sipped at my tea. He's got such a handsome face, I thought, stealing a glance at him over my cup.
"So," he said, leaning back on the chair. ".do you live here, or." he cut his sentence short when the lights suddenly went out. I gasped. I'm not afraid of the dark or anything like that. I just don't like it. So what if I almost spilled my tea. "Don't panic. Maybe they'll come back on," he offered reassuringly, and patted me on the shoulder.
I finished my tea and sat forward, reaching to put my cup on the coaster he had dutifully placed in front of me. When I leaned back again, the purple robe fell open, exposing a long leg. Howie noticed this. I decided not to cover my leg back up. What the heck, I thought, why not see what happens? My inhibitions were hiding somewhere in the dark, and I couldn't find them. I hoped the lights would stay off.
Howie scooted closer to me, just as casually as could be. I caught him checking out my leg again, and I, being the vixen that I am, shifted in my seat, purposely allowing more skin to show. He again tried to make polite conversation as I looked right into his face, silently daring him to return my stare. I pulled my long, straight blond hair over to one shoulder and began stroking my neck slowly, playing with the delicate little gold chain that hung from it. I don't have a clue where my dose of boldness came from, but it seemed to be doing the trick. The robe was now open to my hip, and was riding up more and more with every deep breath I took. I continued to stare him down. Howie cleared his throat. "My brother is probably home.," he warned, as he inched ever closer and slowly began running a fingertip from my calf to my thigh. I didn't want to look down and break the stare, but from the look on his face, I had a funny feeling that he could now see everything that is typically covered by clothing.
"So.you don't share a bedroom with him, do you?" I inquired, causing him to finally look up at me. I can be quite the little spitfire. Howie smiled as he turned to face me. He got up on one knee, planted one hand firmly on my upper thigh, and pulled me toward him with the other. I noticed how nice his soft brown curls look when they are allowed to air dry. I decided his new haircut was okay after all.
At first he kissed me with his eyes slightly open. I only know this because mine were also slightly open. I couldn't help it, I didn't want to miss anything. It didn't take long for his tongue to find mine. He's a perfect kisser. Not too hard, not sloppy or overly wet. Just right. Intermittently, he would run his tongue across my lips, then attack me again with an open mouth. His breathing was starting to quicken as I gently bit his lower lip. A quiet groan escaped his throat and his hand moved further up my thigh nearer to the warmth between my legs. For a split second, I wondered if he would be mad about my leaving a wet spot on his purple robe.
He opened the robe completely and actually stood up to look me over. I'll admit I felt a little shy at first, considering I was naked and he was still completely clothed. I think he liked it that way. Power trip or something. He then pushed the coffee table back and kneeled in front of me, stroking my thighs as I stroked his hair. Now he was staring me down. I held his gaze as long as I could, but broke away when he smoothly parted my legs. I was a little shocked. I had always heard he was a bit on the selfish side, cavalier about expecting women to service him, rarely giving back, that kind of thing. You just never know what to believe. Then I remembered that he didn't have a clue that I knew who he was. He was just a kindly stranger, taking in a stranded motorist. He didn't have to act like a pop star. He could be whomever he wanted to be. I made a mental note to NOT call out his name, no matter how much I wanted to.
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