Page 61 of Almost Not Quite Engaged

“And the funny shit that happens to us. But nothing serious or coupley.” I lick more frosting off her index finger. She has a small smile she’s trying to contain and losing.

“Exactly.”

“Is it wrong I might be falling for you because of your new aloof attitude?”

“Back off, I’m engaged.” I reach over and smear a finger full of icing on her nose. She looks at me. “I suppose you’re going to lick that off too?”

I kiss her nose, removing the icing in the process. “That was delicious. But I’m willing to bet it tastes better off your ass.”

“My money’s on my tits or your cock,” she proclaims while putting her glass on the nightstand. “You are going to have to leave a hell of a tip for the maids.”

“And we might have to sleep in the smaller bedroom.”

“Hell, no. That’s my room,” she says. “You put cake in your bed not me.” I pull her naked sugar-covered body to mine and glare at her. She has frosting and chocolate cake crumbs in places I didn’t think cake could reach. I smear a piece of something lemony down her chest between her tits. And she laughs, grabbing a vanilla raspberry piece and sliding it up and down my cock.

“Holy shit, that’s cold.” She nods and then leans over taking a good portion of my dick into her mouth and sucking it off. I brace my hands behind me and watch this sugar covered goddess feast. She bobs her head up and down then sits back on her heels, icing glazing all over her face. Then she wipes it with the back of her hand.

“I think we should go with that one.” I laugh as my cock aches for more icing.

“We both know you’re the messy one. That is entirely your fault.” She smashes more cake on my mouth then quickly kisses me. I take the last piece that neither of us has touched and position it above her head. She breaks the kiss and looks up.

“You wouldn’t.” She grabs the last remaining scraps of chocolate and glares at me. “It’s carrot cake. Ew.”

I flatten my hand on the top of her head and cream cheese icing coats her hair as she tosses the hunk of cocoa coconut dream cake at me. And then we’re grabbing any assemblage of pieces and hurling them at each other. I jump off the incredibly disgusting bed hoisting her into my arms as she cackles laughing. We kiss with sugar and flour all over us. I walk us out to the outdoor shower and kiss thoroughly throughout our decaking.

We’re damp and sitting on our patio listening to waves crash. The light is starting to think about coming up. She’s sitting on my lap with her legs propped on the little coffee table. We’re wrapped in robes sipping the last of the bubbles. She’s just so much damn fun. I don’t let go like this, ever, but she makes me want to be this goofy and stupid. Her fingers are weaving through mine. I nuzzle into the back of her neck.

“Tell me about the spirit guide thing,” I say.

She launches in. “Serge was punishing me for swilling Zinfandel from the bottle when I arrived.”

“That may be my favorite sentence ever.” She turns around and straddles me. She closes the top of her robe and I pull it back open.

“Listen now, and you can have tits later.”

“Fine. But I’m going to need a lot of them.”

“Perfect. I happen to have a lot.”

I kiss her and my tongue is instantly inside her mouth. “Yes you do.” I give a chef’s kiss. “Big fan. Ten out of ten.” She laughs and shoves me away.

“Serge and the old decrepit Yoda-looking swami shoved me into the sweat lodge. They told me to listen and look for signs of a path opening in my life. I’d be given things to follow and believe.” I’m laughing and she points at me. “And then I heard that fucking laugh.”

“I’m lost.”

She slides over to the coffee table and holds my knees. “I was sweaty, most likely tripping on too many gummi butterflies. Real ones, not pot.”

“No such thing as too many gummi butterflies. Especially from Samuels. Go on,” I say.

“You must have walked by the sweat lodge and laughed, and I heard it. Then at the welcome ceremony I saw you.”

“I couldn’t take my eyes off you,” I say. “Captivated, until I realized it was you.”

“I was a bit captured by you as well. Very curious if you were the body connected to my laugh. The laugh that made me feel not so alone.”

That sits in the room for a moment in a way I’m not ready to address.

“That’s nice to hear,” I say. “Go on.”