Chapter 18

ANNA

There's a fine line between teasing and torture. And while I felt that line had been crossed during the appetizers, I also realize I was being melodramatic and it was probably only crossed after he told me I smelled delicious. Regardless, it took for-fucking-ever to get back to his apartment, although I did like the part where he picked me up like a piece of paper and crushed me to his body. That was awesome.

Fourteen minutes after that, we were standing on his stoop. I could tell he was about to say something silly like "Are you sure?" so I stopped him in his tracks. I couldn't have been more sure about anything. And I couldn't wait any longer.

I can now understand why the consummation of marriage is such an important ritual in some cultures. Since Sunday, when Kay planted the first seeds of hope in my mind, all through dinner, we were dealing with 'theory, ' with 'potential.' But as the night wore on, I wanted ... I needed it to become 'actual.' It was like there was this clock ticking away, and the longer we waited, the antsier I got. We, as a couple, were still too ephemeral for my tastes, and I felt like I'd waited long enough to finally see what the fuss had been all about. A tiny part of me was also worried that it'd be weird, for him anyway. And I wanted to know as soon as possible if we were going to have any issues about that. But mainly I was horny.

John got the door open, and while I knew his apartment as well as my own, it felt different this time. The schoolgirl part of me, the part that had been writing 'Mrs. John Griffiths' on the pee-chee folder in my mind all night, looked at his apartment as where I was going to be living from now on. Presumptuous sure. But I'd been living in a fantasy all night anyway, and I saw no reason to stop now.

John, ever the gentleman, and perhaps as a clue that his mind was working in similar ways, picked me up and carried me across the threshold. Like we were married or something. My heart did a somersault, but that didn't stop me from planting a blistering kiss on his mouth. The beard was nice. Softer than it looked, I bet it would feel amazing between my thighs.

He didn't even bother with the living room. Thank god. He carried me straight into the bedroom and dropped me on the bed. I may have shrieked a little.

"Take off your clothes." He rumbled.

I didn't fuck around. It would be stupid to play coy at this point, and frankly my clothes needed to be off. They felt binding and itchy. My skin was hot and it wanted air. So in less time than it took him to get his shoes off, I was down to my bra. It's not like I really need one, but the blouse was sheer, and I wore it as as a sop to modesty. But my desire ran into the unexpected, I got shy. It was easy enough to shuck out of my skirt and blouse. But the act of taking off my bra in front of John suddenly seemed alien. My arms were frozen behind me, as soon as I'd touched the clasp, I thought of all the woman John had seen. And I locked up.

"Go on." He said. My face must've shown something because his expression softened, and I could see the love and caring in his eyes.

"What wrong?" He asked quietly.

"I don't know. I..." my damn eyes starting leaking again. "I'm not built like your other girlfriends. I guess I'm worried what you'll think."

There was an exasperated look that flashed across his face for the briefest second, and I think that got me going the right direction again more than anything he said after.

"Anna..." he started. And began to sit down on the bed. I realized I was being foolish, and I didn't want to fall back into talking so I put my hand out to stop him, and just said, "Never mind. Forget it. I'm ok now. It was just a momentary thing." Then with more bravado than I felt. I undid the clasp and flung the bra somewhere into the distance. There. I did it. I was completely totally naked in front of John for the first time in 20 years.