It's never a good sign when the ice has barely melted in your empty glass. Still, he liked the clinking sound as he moved it around.

"I'm sooo sorry for my Dad," she said with a sheepish smile, as she re-entered the room.

"It's fine. Honestly. He's great."

"I told him that we are just friends, but, you know..."

She fake pouted.

He died a little inside.

She stood directly in front of where he was sitting on her couch. She took the glass from his hand and started to take a drink when she noticed that it was empty.

"Fine, huh?"

"It was a little intense. I got all the grilling of someone dating you, without any of the benefits."

"There are benefits to dating me?" She titled her head to the side, faux innocently. "Whatever would they be?"

It felt like someone else was running his hands, as they found themselves on her hips. Hips he had never touched before. Hips he tried never to look directly at.

"There are far too many to list." He was controlling his own words, but just barely.

"Could you try?" She asked, her voice getting softer as she stepped/was pulled in a little closer.

He leaned in, his nose just an inch from her neck. The fragrance that had haunted him for so long, now felt like something different.

"It could take a while," he replied in something close to a growl.

"I'm not going anywhere," she whispered immediately.

He gently traced up her neck with his lips, stopping to whisper, "Good" directly into her ear.

She exhaled softly as she ran her hands through his hair.

His hands crossed the border between the back of her shirt and her favourite jeans.

Lips found lips.

Silent desire found a voice.

Without breaking the kiss, he scooped her up, turned around and placed her on the couch.

Then he stopped kissing and pulled back a little.

"What is it?" she asked breathlessly.

"You know... I TOTALLY forgive your Dad."

Labels: writing with the flu