Free Rex by Beth Michele

head, pulling her back up to me and kissing her, my taste all over her lips. “Yeah, you do.”
    There’s an awkward silence that fills the air as we lie next to one another, and I’m not quite sure what to make of it. It doesn’t last long, though, because Vanessa sits up and scoots off the bed, plucking her bra from the carpet.
    “So,” she hesitates, “I should probably get going.”
    I sit up and scratch my head, tossing the sheets off. “You can… stay if you want. We can… hang out… watch a movie or something? Although, I don’t know if I have any movies you’ll like. I’m not into chick flicks.”
    “Chick flicks,” she repeats, strapping her bra on and taking a seat back on the bed. “What makes you think I like chick flicks? I’ll have you know, I was a tomboy growing up.”
    “Oh really?” My eyes roam her body. “That’s hard to believe. There’s nothing boyish about you.”
    She playfully smacks my arm. “I used to climb trees and play with those little, green army men. Oh, and I had a thing for G.I. Joe.”
    “All right,” I challenge, slinging myself over the bed, collecting my boxers and shrugging them on. “Game on. Let’s go check out my movie collection and you can tell me if anything looks good. I’ll be honest, though, there’s a lot of death and destruction out there.”
    “That’s cool.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder as she walks away. “I’m into death and destruction.”
    “Seriously?” I shake my head and laugh as I follow after her into the living room. She makes a beeline right for my movie collection.
    “No way!” She kneels on the floor, thumbing through the stacks of DVDs in the cabinet. “You have my favorite movie.”
    “Oh yeah, what’s that?” I grab two bottled waters from the fridge, then walk back out to the living room. I twist the caps off and set them on the table before sinking down into the couch.
    “ Die Hard .” She holds the DVD up in her hand with a big smile.
    You’ve got to be shitting me.
    “Bullshit.” I smirk, because there’s no fucking way that could possibly be her favorite movie.
    “No, seriously,” she gestures with her hands in the air, “I’m a huge Bruce Willis fan and Bruce Willis barefoot, well….”
    “So you want to watch Die Hard ?” My voice raises in pitch, shock making it difficult to digest this newly discovered fact about her.
    “Yeah. But I need popcorn. Do you have any?” She pushes to her feet, sauntering into the kitchen in just her bra, that hot little skirt, and of course, no panties.
    I’m still thinking about what’s underneath her skirt when she calls from the kitchen, “Do you have anything here? Where’s all your food?”
    “I’ve got food,” I yell back, making my way into my kitchen that’s more like a rabbit hole. When I walk in, she’s on her tiptoes, reaching up to a cabinet. I come up behind her, rubbing my cock, which is already hard again, against her ass. “What do you want?” I whisper just above her ear. “What are you hungry for?” I place a wet kiss against her neck, trailing a finger up the length of her thigh.
    She leans her head back, her breath warm against my jaw. “What I really want,” she says seductively, “is hot, melted… buttery popcorn.”
    I squeeze her ass and she grinds against me. “Don’t start something you can’t finish,” I warn, nipping her lobe. She squeals just as she spots the glass jar of popcorn.
    Reaching above her, I grab the pot on top of the cabinet. “You see, I have the essentials.”
    She spins around, glancing down at my hard-on. “You certainly do have the essentials,” she flirts. “But what the heck is that in your hand? You don’t have a popcorn maker?”
    “No. I make it the old-fashioned way,” I tell her as I place the pot on the stove. “Can you get the butter out of the fridge? And the oil is right behind you on the counter.”
    “Geez, I haven’t seen popcorn made like this since I was a