love in her expression I feel as though I could catch fire, despite the water pouring over me. Yes, love. I’ve stopped thinking that was impossible. We’ve been through more as a couple in one night than most couples do in a year. Is it so crazy that we’re already in love?
Gloria opens her mouth in a silent cry, the hunger in her face betraying how close she is, and seconds later her pussy is convulsing around my fingers, her hands pulling at my hair as she moans incoherently. While she’s still twitching, her leg muscles give out, and I have to move quickly to catch her as she slides down the wall.
“I’ve got you,” I pull her into my lap. My cock prods tantalizingly close to her pussy. If she would just move a fraction to the right…
“Need a condom,” she says dreamily, breathlessly.
“And a bed maybe.”
We clamber apart and I help her stand.
“Why don’t you dry off and get into bed?” she asks. “I want to finish combing my hair.”
I hate to leave her, but after a cramped shower, a dirty table and the back of my truck, the idea of making out in a bed sounds like heaven right about now.
Chapter Thirteen – Gloria
Times like these, when I least want my hair to be the ethnic mash-up that it is, it goes all Cubana Africana on me, one-eighth of my hair DNA tangling and curling and sticking together like some new, advanced kind of Velcro. Ten minutes later, after I have bullied it into a mangled braid, I wrap myself in a towel and bolt for my bedroom, expecting to find Charlie rock hard and eagerly waiting for round four.
Instead I find him face down on my sheets, wearing nothing but batman boxers, fast asleep. I’m a little insulted until I step around the bed and use my powers of investigation to surmise the series of events since he left me in the shower.
Mauly is curled up in the crook of his shoulder, looking his usual irresistible self. Many times I’ve been on my way to do something else and found myself stopping to give him a scratch. So Charlie fell prey to Mauly’s charms, lying down for a quick snuggle before succumbing to the exhaustion that is also weighing on me.
They look a picture–so adorable if I had the energy, I would get out my art supplies and sketch them for posterity. Instead I sigh, and Mauly, who as usual is only pretending to be asleep, looks up at me, his eyes squinted into a cat smile. He lifts one paw and lays it on Charlie’s sleeping face as if to say, yes, keep this one .
“I’m going to try, Mauly.”
I slip on some fuzzy pajamas and climb in beside them, pulling the quilt over us. Charlie stirs as I nudge Mauly out of the way.
“Oh, God,” he says as he opens his eyes and sees me. “I fell asleep. I’m so sorry.”
“What did I say about apologizing without being told to?”
Charlie smiles drowsily and rolls over, pulling me to rest my head on his shoulder.
We lay there, curled together, listening to the radiator gurgle and the faint sound of drunken singing drifting up from the street.
“Nice boxers, by the way,” I say.
“Thanks. They’re my favorites.”
“Why did you put boxers on anyway? Wasn’t the plan for more sex?”
“I didn’t feel right cuddling your cat naked. I barely know him.”
Sometimes when I’m tired and I start giggling, I can’t stop. This is one of those times. And apparently Charlie has the same problem. There are tears streaming down both our faces by the time we calm down.
“Do you want more sex?” Charlie wipes his eyes. “I think I could manage it if you get on top.”
“That’s a very nice offer, and don’t take this the wrong way, but all I really want right now is sleep.”
Charlie’s eyes are already closed when he answers. “Okay, good. Me too…”
Mauly starts to purr. That combined with my neighbor massacring “Auld Lang Sine” in the driveway, somehow works like a lullaby, and soon I’m floating in that beautiful almost asleep world where everything is bliss, before