Page 51 of Tainted Love
“Yeah, I’m beat,” I reply.
“How about we have some fun before we go home?” he suggests mischievously, which is how we find ourselves standing in front of Landry’s house twenty minutes later.
“Ssh!” he whispers. “You’re going to wake someone up.”
“Why am I carrying all of the toilet paper?” I shoot back.
“Because I’m scoping out the perfect trees to cover,” he answers smugly.
“He’s going to kill you, you know,” I say, throwing the toilet paper at his feet. “He’s going to know it was you, and he’s going to throw you through a window, like in the trailer for that new Roadhouse movie.”
“Pfft,” Michael scoffs. “Landry loves me.”
“No.” I correct him. “Landry loves me. He tolerates you.”
Michael mulls it over and decides in two seconds that I’m right, and he doesn’t care. “Whatever,” he says. “Go over there by his truck.”
Suddenly, a roll of toilet paper flies through the air toward me, hitting me squarely on the nose. “Ow! What the hell!” I cry out as Michael laughs from his hiding spot across the driveway.
“Throw it back!” he commands. “As high as you can!”
I aim for where I think he’s standing and hurl the roll back through the trees toward him. We continue this game for several minutes until Landry’s front yard tree is completely covered in white toilet paper tinsel.
Suddenly, the porch light flicks on, and we scramble to hide in a nearby bush.
“Tazman! I know you’re out here. I’m going to kick your ass!” Landry’s voice booms through the quiet night.
“I told you,” I whisper to Michael with a smirk.
“I’m actually scared,” he admits, causing me to stifle a laugh.
“You have five minutes to get out of here!” Landry yells, his deep voice echoing through the darkness.
“Shit,” Michael curses. “RUN!” He grabs my hand, and we sprint from the house toward his truck parked down the street.
By the time we reach it, we’re both out of breath from running and giggling like children.
Once we get home, because we live together now, which is still such a strange concept, Michael offers to make us some food, but I’m worn out from the day's events.
“I think it’s time for me to hit the hay,” I say, looking up at him with gratefulness in my eyes. “And thanks for being there for my recital. It really meant so much to have you in the audience,” I stumble over my words, feeling a wave of emotion wash over me. He nods, his expression thoughtful and understanding.
After an hour of tossing and turning, I finally hear the familiar sound of my bedroom door creaking open. I pretend to be asleep as he quietly moves toward my bed, carefully avoiding the squeaky floorboards.
Every night, our little slumber party gets more intimate—tonight, he climbs under the covers in just his sweatpants and wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer to his muscular body. I’m wearing only a t-shirt and satin undies, and my skin tingles with anticipation as soon as the exposed skin of my lower back touches his row of abs.
His warm breath tickles my neck, and my heart races with excitement. I know we shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t find the strength to stop him.
“Michael,” I whisper, my voice shaking with desire and fear.
His breath is a gentle caress against my ear, sending goosebumps down my skin. His rough fingers dance over my shoulder in delicate circles, igniting sparks with each touch and causing my thighs to clench involuntarily.
As he presses into me, his fingers graze my hips. My entire body is alive, every nerve ending ablaze as we meld together.
With gentle movements, his hand trails down my bare legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake as soft kisses are planted on the sensitive curve of my neck, intensifying the feeling.
“Let me make you feel good,” he whispers in my ear. It’s a pleading request not to overthink this moment. And for once, I’m not going to fight him.
He explores my body with exquisite, slow torture, almost taunting me with his touch. My entire body quivers as his hand glides down along the curve of my waist before settling back on my hip with a firm grip.
