With my lips to his ears, I nibbled and replied, “The question is, can you?”
Porter pulled away, then stared at me. “Twenty-five minutes, Ari. We have twenty-five minutes to think about this. To think about something that’s going to change who we are to each other for the rest of our lives.”
Fuck. I adjusted my skirt, sat back, and stared out the window. “Okay. Twenty-five minutes.”
I chewed the inside of my jaw. Should we do this? Could I blame it on the wine and abject touch-starvation? How would everything change?
“Twenty-four minutes.” Porter shook his head. “Whatever we decide, trust me, I’m not going anywhere.”
I felt Porter reach for my hand and interlock his fingers with mine. I closed my eyes and leaned my head on his shoulder. Porter pressed a kiss to my forehead.
Chapter Sixteen
Porter
Twenty-five minutes later, Ari was tugging on my belt, which was a hassle to unbuckle, as she led me up the steps to her door.
We’d taken the full twenty-five-minute ride to think about this. I meant what I said: no matter what, I wasn’t going anywhere. I’d still wait. But before I could say anything, Ari turned to me and whispered, “Come inside.”
She could barely get the key into the door when I began kissing her, unzipping her skirt, and pulling it down. Ari loosened my tie and threw it on the floor as she kicked off her heels. I was already out of my jacket, quickly unbuttoning my shirt before throwing it to the ground. My chest rose deeply with each yearning breath. I began kissing Ari’s neck, following the hollow between her breasts as I unbuttoned her shirt.
“You have on way too many clothes,” I said, growling hungrily into her decolletage, the faint scent of her perfume still lingering.
“And you have on a belt that’s way too complicated to unbuckle.” I laughed as I finished unbuckling my belt, sliding it gingerly out of the belt loops. Ari unbuttoned the fly of my pants, pulling me close to her as her fingers pulled down the zipper. Finally, I shimmied out of the heavily starched pants, standing there in my black boxer briefs and maroon, pink, and brown argyle socks. Ari giggled.
“What?” I asked, looking down at my socks. “You hate my socks, don’t you?”
“No! They’re adorable,” she said, trying to hold in her laughter. I thought they were a whimsical pop of color. I guess she begged to differ.
“Fuck that. I’m not about to do this, standing in these socks like a grandpa.” I hopped on alternating feet as I took off my socks, which was entirely too difficult to do after several bottles of premium wine.
We stood in silence, trying not to salivate. I had imagined Ari naked thousands of times and the real thing was a lot to take in. Ari stood there, skin the color of dusk, in sky-blue lace bra and boy short with amazingly impressive calf muscles. As she turned, her ass was a firm, high peach-shaped bubble that was begging me to take a bite.
“Wow,” I said, looking her up and down. “You’re beautiful.”
“Really?” she asked. With her hair tousled and makeup dewy, Ari was the total picture of seduction.
“Yes, really. But you know that.” I turned her shoulders toward the mirror that was in the foyer. “Look at you, Ari. You’re gorgeous, girl.”
I stood behind her, my body pressed up against her still suppleness. Feeling the rigidity of my dick grazing against her backside, I wondered if she would have objected to being bent over and fucked in her foyer. But I didn’t want her there. Not for the first time. I needed to feel her in a bed. Her bed.
I pushed her hair to one side, kissing her neck. I stared at the two of us in the mirror. In the low light of the foyer lamps, we cast an amazing glow from our two striking complexions. I was fair, muscular, and taut. She was shorter, ruddy-brown, and curvier. Perhaps to others, we looked like a bit of an odd pairing. I thought we couldn’t be more beautiful together. My breathing was heavy yet steady, the excitement building. God, this was really happening. Ari turned to face me, her back against the small table. I looked at her, deliberately not breaking our gaze. Looking at me, her hands on my chest, trailing a finger down toward the top of my boxer briefs, Ari leaned in closer.
“Do you want me, Porter? Do you still want to do this?”
I pushed a wayward, kinky coil behind her ear. “Do I want you? More than you know, sweetheart. Do you want to do this?”
Ari traced a finger against my jawline. “Yes, Porter. I do.”
With that, I lifted her in one fell swoop. Her eyes grew wide, surprised that a guy with my build could pick up a girl of significant weight so easily. I could have carried her one thousand miles if she wanted me to. Besides, I benched three hundred and fifty pounds on the regular. Ari was as light as a feather in my arms.