Going Under

Yes.

“But yes. I do. I don’t know why but I do trust you,” Ryan said.

My face lit up. I could feel it, and suddenly I didn’t want to talk anymore. I didn’t think Ryan wanted to either. I wanted to feel his mouth on mine, and I wanted to let him kiss me for as long as he liked.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and buried my face in his neck. It was unexpected. I had every intention of going for his lips, but a sudden urge to hug him overpowered my desire for a kiss.

I inhaled his scent, that deep masculine smell of soap mixed with . . . something. His essence, perhaps. I breathed it in like oxygen, a faint sweetness that made me want to lick him. That shocked me. I wanted to lick his neck. I couldn’t stop myself. I slipped my tongue out ever so slightly—just the tip—and tasted him.

I drew back and looked at him, embarrassed. “I don’t know why I did that.”

“Did what?” he asked. “Hug me?”

“No, the other thing.”

“What other thing?”

I was confused. “You didn’t feel it?”

“Feel what?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Ryan said. “What are you talking about?”

I blushed and looked down at my lap. “I kind of licked your neck.”

“You kind of licked my neck?” Ryan asked, grinning.

“Does that make me weird?” I said.

“Not in the least,” and he leaned over, burying his face in my neck, and ran his tongue slowly all the way from the base to right behind my earlobe.

I squealed.

“Good squeal or bad squeal?” he asked, mouth pressed against my ear.

“Good squeal.” I don’t even know how I got out the words. I was out of breath from shock.

Ryan pulled away and looked at me. “I think we need to—”

Anything! I screamed inside. I’ll do anything you want!

“—play some video games,” he said.

Excuse me?

My face must have said it all because Ryan burst out laughing.

“Not a gamer?” he asked.

“I don’t even know how to hold the controller,” I replied. Just make out with me!

“I’ll teach you,” he offered, and jumped up from the bed to turn on his TV and Playstation.

I didn’t know what he was up to. I felt the sexual energy coursing through him when his tongue made contact with my neck. I’m not sure why he was trying to fight it, if that’s what he was doing. What was so wrong with kissing, anyway? We’d already done it.

“Come here,” Ryan said, and I slunk off the bed halfheartedly to sit next to him on the floor. “No, not there. Here,” he said, pointing to the space between his legs.

Oh, so that’s what he was up to.

I nestled between his legs, leaning against his chest as he leaned against the foot of his bed. He gave me the controller, then placed his hands over mine so I was trapped in what I later told Gretchen was the Gamers Embrace. He walked me through each button and how and when to use them. Then he asked me if I was interested in killing some bad guys.

“I have a feeling I’m gonna be really bad at this,” I said, feeling my heartbeat increase. It was ridiculous, but I was nervous, and not because I was sitting in such an intimate position with Ryan. I was scared of the freaking game.

“You’ll do just fine,” he said, and pressed the X on the controller. The game started, and I squealed.

“You like to squeal,” Ryan observed, watching me die in the first few seconds.

“What is this game?”

“Oh, Brooke. You’re such a girl,” Ryan said, and I instantly thought of Terry saying those same words when he described Fantasy Football for me. I squirmed. “This is Call of Duty. Freaking amazing game.”

“It’s scary,” I said. “I don’t think—”

“You’re doing just fine,” Ryan reassured me.

I didn’t think I was doing “just fine” at all. I think I sucked. Big time. How could a painter have no hand-eye coordination? I think at one point I made my guy walk on the ceiling.

I laughed when I died again. But I had to admit that I was starting to get hooked. It didn’t even take that long. Yes, I was still afraid of the bad guys. I didn’t like rounding corners, but each time I died, I was determined to try again. And I started getting better with the controller. Suddenly it became an extension of my hands, just like my paintbrush.

“That’s right, bitch!” I yelled when I killed my first enemy.

Ryan laughed. I hadn’t noticed his hands on the tops of my thighs when we started, but I definitely noticed them when they spread my legs apart ever so slightly. Did I mention I was still in my work uniform?

I put down the controller immediately, and died in two seconds.

“What did you do that for?” Ryan asked into my neck. He rained sweet little pecks all over my goose-rippled flesh.

“I can’t concentrate,” I breathed, closing my eyes.

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