Page 11 of Oz
Close was an understatement.I was wedged between the cold bare wall and his hard immovable body, with the microwave meal perched on my lap as I picked at it with my fork. I was hungry but I couldn’t eat. Not with Oz’s fingers playing up and down my bare arm. It was distracting as hell.
“Are you finished?”
Was I? The moment I said yes, things would go from almost platonic to something decidedly not. And I wasn’t sure whether I was ready for it, even though I wanted it. And God, I wanted it. I wanted him. I squirmed as his hands plucked the tray from my lap before I could answer him, placing it carefully back on the bedside table.
“You’re shivering, Laura.” With his hands either side of my thighs, the mattress dipped from the sudden shift of weight, sending me back into the pillows. “Are you cold?”
Mutely, I shook my head. How could I explain it to him when I didn’t totally understand it myself?
“Then what?”
“Nervous.” I tried to shrug it away.
“You don’t need to be nervous, Laura. We can go as slow or as fast as you want. We don’t have to do anything but sit next to each other and watch TV if that’s what you want to do.”
“But you - uh - want to?” I stammered. “You want to make out and…” I blushed, “do other stuff.”
Oz let out a guttural groan. “Yeah, of course I want to.”
“Good,” I hooked my hands behind his head and tugged it down, capturing his lips with mine before breaking away to murmur my next words, “because I want to as well.”
