Sweet Nothing

You found me. Forbidden. I broke my own rules.

Your hand slipped under the back of my shirt in passing, your finger grazed the waist line of my pants. Not here. Not now. You brought your arms across your chest and leaned back. “Then when?” As I passed you again, your hand came up and caught my wrist, “when?”

I shouldn’t have responded. You’re forbidden. You came over anyways; caught me in your snare. I fluttered anxiously like a frightened bird against you. Your mouth hot like fire, secrets whispered across the nape of my neck. My hair swept to the side by your fingers, lingering behind my ear. We’re alone, but anyone could come around the corner and see us and I’m conflicted. 

Do I want this or do I need saving?

You are forbidden and this is cursed but I shave my legs anyways. “I’m here.” The door is unlocked for you, “open it.” The neighbor calls out that someone is upstairs. I pull you inside and you drink me in. I can’t read your expressions.

Wine warms my throat, my cheeks and ears. They are red with knowing there’s no going back and the words not yet said ring in my ears. The hum of you deafens the room as you unzip my jacket. “It’s too warm for this.” Your eyes close as I wipe my wine kiss from your lip. My shirt falls to the floor, “this is also unnecessary.” My rib cage fits up against yours and your hands undo the clasps of my bra. “Impressed yet?”

The neighbors hear my laughter and my mouth is dry. This was not meant to happen. We aren’t meant to happen. I’m out of wine and one glass was not enough. Your hands are magic and I bend but don’t break by them.

I am glowing. By guilt? By bliss? By shame?

I upend the bottle for just a drop more; longing for the taste of it... of you... of this sin. More, now, again. 

“Next time.”