Good (A Work of Fiction) - 2005-04-01 12:39 PM
Good (A Work of Fiction)
She sat between my legs at the head of my bed, and I hugged her close. The print of my thumb crossed the flesh of her stomach. “The Tonight Show” was on.
My eyes were closed so I never saw her, but I could still feel my heart skip a beat when she turned her head and kissed my cheek.
“I want to marry you some day,” she told me.
I rested my chin on her naked shoulder. She smelled like rosemary.
“Is it too soon to say that?”
“Probably,” I told her. “I haven’t shown you how much of a jackass I can be.”
“Come on, I’m serious!” She nudged me and I opened my eyes. Johnny’s monologue was almost over and I didn’t care.
“No, it wasn’t.” I said and softly kissed the nip of her neck. It wasn’t too soon at all.
She leaned her head back and said, “Good.”
She sat between my legs at the head of my bed, and I hugged her close. The print of my thumb crossed the flesh of her stomach. “The Tonight Show” was on.
My eyes were closed so I never saw her, but I could still feel my heart skip a beat when she turned her head and kissed my cheek.
“I want to marry you some day,” she told me.
I rested my chin on her naked shoulder. She smelled like rosemary.
“Is it too soon to say that?”
“Probably,” I told her. “I haven’t shown you how much of a jackass I can be.”
“Come on, I’m serious!” She nudged me and I opened my eyes. Johnny’s monologue was almost over and I didn’t care.
“No, it wasn’t.” I said and softly kissed the nip of her neck. It wasn’t too soon at all.
She leaned her head back and said, “Good.”
