awkwardly. I’m a tad nervous. I can feel my palms get sweaty and my heart is racing a little. It’s kind of how I used to feel when I was sent to the principal’s office in school. I bite the bullet and ask her if I can use her washer. I ramble. I know I do, but I can’t help it. I spit the words out trying to get the embarrassment over with. I don’t expect her to be as gracious as she is even though that’s how she’s been all day. But, once again, she surprises me.
Cutting me off, she tells me to get my clothes out of my truck. I want to salute her and give her my best, “Yes, ma’am”, but, again, I don’t know her well enough to know if I can push and she’s been making my day easier when she doesn’t have any reason to. Who does that?
I hurry past her because I’m still a bit embarrassed to be using her laundry facilities and hiding out at her house for the day. I can’t wait to call Grams and tell her about today. She asked me to find adventure and that I did.
Walking back in, I stop at the door, breath knocked from my lungs. Adriana is dancing around her kitchen to Whitesnake’s Here I Go Again . It’s a great song that’s just been made greater by watching her dance and jump around. Her long hair is flying all over and she’s singing every word. She’s in rock heaven and could care less that I’m watching her. I can tell she knows I’m there and I’ll be damned if that doesn’t turn me on more. Most women would be embarrassed. I want to join her, but I’m mesmerized by her hips, her ass– everything about her. When she smiles at me, my heart stops for about the hundredth time today. I think she’s going to be the death of me.
“Great song,” I say dropping my bag at my feet. It’s taking all my self-control to not throw her over my shoulder and go room to room until I find a bed. This song needs to end. It may be one of the best songs of all time, but I need her to stop moving like that before I explode all over her kitchen.
She must sense that I’m tense because she walks over to the sink and finishes cleaning up the dishes that she had started. I stand there getting my heart rate and breathing under control. Watching her. After she places the last pot down, she motions for me to follow her and I get a big Cheshire cat grin on my face. She looks confused, but that’s because she doesn’t know that I get to stare at her backside while I follow.
In her laundry room, she shows me where everything is, how the machines work, and starts to walk out. Most women would have stayed. Tried to see what kind of underwear I wear. Something to brag about later. But, not her. I feel like an asshole, but there’s something I have to ask. Placing my hand on her shoulder to stop her, I almost can’t ask her when her hazel eyes look into mine. I don’t know that I ever thought hazel eyes were pretty before. I was wrong– so wrong. Hers are stunning. I have to know if this is a safe place for me. Will her friends tell anyone I’m here tonight? I keep my eyes locked with hers as I ask this. I need her to see how important this is to me. I don’t know why I need her to know this, but I do.
She clears her throat a couple times, starts to talk and stops. Whatever she’s trying to say isn’t easy for her. I feel horrible for putting her in this situation. I know I should get in my truck and leave. Her and I could never work in this lifetime. Our worlds are too far apart. But then she tells me that she promises… promises… her friends are great people. They would never put stuff online about me if she told them I didn’t want that. The look on her face is so raw and honest. She tells me she can’t say they won’t ask for pictures with me because they are human after all. That brings a small smile to my face. It quickly drops when she says that if I’m worried, I don’t have to stay.
Cutting me off, she tells me to get my clothes out of my truck. I want to salute her and give her my best, “Yes, ma’am”, but, again, I don’t know her well enough to know if I can push and she’s been making my day easier when she doesn’t have any reason to. Who does that?
I hurry past her because I’m still a bit embarrassed to be using her laundry facilities and hiding out at her house for the day. I can’t wait to call Grams and tell her about today. She asked me to find adventure and that I did.
Walking back in, I stop at the door, breath knocked from my lungs. Adriana is dancing around her kitchen to Whitesnake’s Here I Go Again . It’s a great song that’s just been made greater by watching her dance and jump around. Her long hair is flying all over and she’s singing every word. She’s in rock heaven and could care less that I’m watching her. I can tell she knows I’m there and I’ll be damned if that doesn’t turn me on more. Most women would be embarrassed. I want to join her, but I’m mesmerized by her hips, her ass– everything about her. When she smiles at me, my heart stops for about the hundredth time today. I think she’s going to be the death of me.
“Great song,” I say dropping my bag at my feet. It’s taking all my self-control to not throw her over my shoulder and go room to room until I find a bed. This song needs to end. It may be one of the best songs of all time, but I need her to stop moving like that before I explode all over her kitchen.
She must sense that I’m tense because she walks over to the sink and finishes cleaning up the dishes that she had started. I stand there getting my heart rate and breathing under control. Watching her. After she places the last pot down, she motions for me to follow her and I get a big Cheshire cat grin on my face. She looks confused, but that’s because she doesn’t know that I get to stare at her backside while I follow.
In her laundry room, she shows me where everything is, how the machines work, and starts to walk out. Most women would have stayed. Tried to see what kind of underwear I wear. Something to brag about later. But, not her. I feel like an asshole, but there’s something I have to ask. Placing my hand on her shoulder to stop her, I almost can’t ask her when her hazel eyes look into mine. I don’t know that I ever thought hazel eyes were pretty before. I was wrong– so wrong. Hers are stunning. I have to know if this is a safe place for me. Will her friends tell anyone I’m here tonight? I keep my eyes locked with hers as I ask this. I need her to see how important this is to me. I don’t know why I need her to know this, but I do.
She clears her throat a couple times, starts to talk and stops. Whatever she’s trying to say isn’t easy for her. I feel horrible for putting her in this situation. I know I should get in my truck and leave. Her and I could never work in this lifetime. Our worlds are too far apart. But then she tells me that she promises… promises… her friends are great people. They would never put stuff online about me if she told them I didn’t want that. The look on her face is so raw and honest. She tells me she can’t say they won’t ask for pictures with me because they are human after all. That brings a small smile to my face. It quickly drops when she says that if I’m worried, I don’t have to stay.
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