Free I Made You My First by Ciara Threadgoode

me, through his body language, that he was now in charge.  It was somehow turning me on, so I just stared at him.
    Staring back, he stood up slowly and said, “Since we’re going to get comfortable now, may I take your shoes?”  I watched him slide his shoes off and I reached down and stepped out of mine.  He took them from me and set them by the front door.  I took a sip of wine, watching him bend over as he set them down.  He plopped back down on the sofa.  I knew we had only hours before he’d be taking me back to Judy’s, so in that moment  I decided to suggest a game Judy and I had created years ago. 
    I wanted to know more about him.  “Would you be up for a question game?”  I asked.  His eyebrows went up and he cocked his head, giving me a devilish grin.
    “Sure, what’re the rules of this game?”
    I smiled back at him.  “The rules are easy.  I ask a question and you answer truthfully.  Then it’s your turn.  And I answer truthfully.”
    He smiled, “How do I know if you’re answering truthfully?”
    I lifted the glass to my lips, taking a long sip before answering,  “If you don’t want to be honest, just say you don’t want to play.  We can play rummy,” I retorted. He looked at me suspiciously, and with an intense stare, accepted the terms.  “Okay, we’ll both be honest, no matter what?” 
    “Yep,” I agreed.   
    “Who’s first?” he asked.
    “I’ll go first,” I grinned.  “I’ll start off easy.  What’s your full name?” I smiled, watching his face. 
    He leaned back on the sofa, crossing his hands behind his head.  “This is pretty easy, huh?  I thought this would be tough.” He winked at me.
    “My full name is Irish Bryce Thompson and I’m twenty-five,” he added sarcastically.  I smiled.  It was my turn now and I knew he wasn’t going to be asking me my name, he already knew it so I prepared myself. 
    “Okay,” he said, sitting straight up, leaning in toward me.  Several feet lay between us, but he lowered his voice to just above a whisper.  “Where did you learn to kiss like you do?” His eyes burned deeply into mine and his face became serious. My eyebrows rose.
    “Really, that’s your first question?”  I rolled my eyes and smiled.
    “Well I could tell you my blood type now and spare  myself question number two,” he added with a smart-aleck grin. 
    I sat back in my chair and thought about my answer, just to mess with him a little.  “Okay, I learned to kiss, mouth open, from Keith Okonski in the sixth grade.  He also taught me how to play spin-the-bottle.”
    He smiled.  It was my turn again and I wanted to ask something I really wanted to know, rather than embarrassing him.  I leaned forward this time and stared him right in the eye.  “How many women, and you can round it off if you need to, have you  brought here before me?”  I gave him my best sarcastic grin.  To my surprise, he didn’t look flustered or uncomfortable.  He actually looked calm.
    Looking me square in the face, he said, “Well, Jurnee, I can honestly and truthfully say that you’re the first woman I’ve ever brought here, excluding my mom and sister, that is.”  His expression was honest and sincere.
    That wasn’t at all what I was expecting.  I continued staring at his face for tell-tale signs.  He looked like he was being honest. 
    “Why?”  I asked quickly before giving him any time to think about it.
    “ Because this is my home and I consider it my sanctuary, not my playground,” he said.
    I was completely floored.  I had to look away from him because I wasn’t sure what my face was showing.  I was beginning to feel warm.
    “My turn,” I heard him say.  I took a drink from my glass and looked back at him head on.  “If you could be anywhere in the world right this very minute, where would you be?” he asked, sitting back in his seat.  I thought he was fishing, wanting me to say here , but I wasn’t sure.  After