The Real Thing: Flirt Romance

  I dance down the hall to the kitchen. The shower is still going, and I’m getting impatient. I want him out here so I can kiss him silly and give him his present. Pulling at my bottom lip, I eye the mixing bowl we keep on the counter because it doesn’t fit in any of the cupboards. Hmmm . . .

  Eric filled the ice trays last night. He’s good about that. I usually leave them on the counter and then complain about not having ice. But he fills them the second they’re empty. I yank open the freezer and pull out the full ice tray, cracking the cubes into the mixing bowl. I whip the faucet lever to cold and let the water run a bit before filling the bowl. I’m suppressing some serious evil laughter as I tiptoe to the bathroom.

  The room is filled with steam as I crack the door open. I duck in quick so Eric doesn’t feel the draft, and silently close the door. The bowl of ice water sloshes in my arms, and I set it on the back of the toilet as I climb on top of the lid. Small giggles escape my throat, but luckily the shower stream seems to be louder than me.

  Once I get the bowl lifted over the shower curtain, I sing, “Haaaapppeeee Biiiirthdaaaay!” then pour the ice water all over my naked boyfriend.

  “Agh!” he shouts in this adorable and hilarious high-pitched yelp, and I bolt out of there as fast as I can, dropping the bowl on the floor somewhere and laughing hysterically. I hear him calling out incoherent threats and I hide behind the couch, stuffing my fist in my mouth so I don’t give myself away.

  His wet legs come into view. He’s put on his boxers, but he didn’t dry off that well, because they sure are sticking to everything. He purses his lips in the most adorable way as he searches the room for me.

  “Emmy, I know you didn’t run outside,” he lilts, and I bite down on my knuckles. He disappears from my line of vision, and I hear him open closets down the hallway, check the laundry room, and flip the LoveSac.

  “I guess I’ll go log on to your computer and post embarrassing status updates,” he threatens. A tiny laugh escapes my lips and it’s enough for him to find me behind the couch, and for me to scream in mock terror.

  “No, no, no!” I squeal when he wraps his hand around my ankle and yanks me from my safe spot. He tickles all the way up to my waist, and I can’t even appreciate his bare torso, because he flips me over his shoulder, locking his arm around the back of my knees.

  “I’m sorry!” I shout, and paddle his butt when he starts carrying me to the bathroom. “Eric, no! I’m sorry!”

  He’s laughing, and I make him laugh harder when I tickle the spot where his bum meets his legs. But it doesn’t stop him from opening the shower curtain and stepping in the tub. The water stream soaks my ass, and I keep pounding on his boxers, but I’m giggling nonstop and I’m pretty sure he’s not going to keep the rest of me dry.

  “Okay, okay, you got me!”

  “Not yet” His arm stretches out and unhooks the shower nozzle, and he makes sure I’m completely punished for the ice water. I slide down his torso, battle him for the showerhead, but I think I’m getting sprayed in the face more than I’m spraying him.

  He whips me around so I’m against the opposite wall, then just when I think I finally get a grip on the showerhead, he stuffs it down my shorts. I go to my only defense . . . tickling. But it’s not a good one, since he’s finally shirtless, so as my fingers grip his sides, his stomach, his neck, all I can think about is how sexy he looks, and how the water drips down his muscles, and how much I don’t give a shit that I’m wet anymore.

  Once it’s obvious that I’m not even attempting to fight him, Eric lets go of me. There’s a lot of smiling and heavy breathing.

  “That’s what you get.” He laughs, keeping the shower nozzle tucked in the waistband of my shorts.

  “Remind me never to start a water war with you again.”

  I’m still breathing hard when I lean in to peck his lips. I get a small taste of his toothpaste and break away, smile still on my face. But Eric’s has faded. It’s still there, just not as wide, not as playful.

  “I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t think I’d mind another one.”

  His gaze drops to my mouth, and he cups my neck. My stomach jolts.

  “Yeah,” I breathe out. “Me neither.”

  I can’t think as he moves his thumb across my jaw and gently pulls down on my chin to part my lips. He moves with slothlike speed, Crest breath hitting my mouth first, and my eyes involuntarily close. Instead of delivering one of his gentle Eric kisses, he rakes the tip of his tongue along my bottom lip with careful precision, licking off the drops of shower water before moving to the top lip. It takes everything in me not to meet his tongue with mine, but I can’t help the soft whimper that escapes my mouth into his.

  The second the sound leaves my throat, Eric grunts, and I feel the vibrations of his groans under my hands on his chest. I dissolve into his arms, and he drops the shower nozzle and grasps my waist, firm, hard. His lips press against mine, and the force of the kiss pushes me against the cool shower wall.

  The water hits our legs, sprays at the curtain—the sound covers the noises I make as Eric’s hands slip and slide all over my midriff. I dig my nails into his chest, rake them over his skin, heart pounding and body heating to an unsafe degree. I want to kiss him everywhere, but he’s claimed my tongue, and I want him to keep it for a while. So I keep exploring his torso with my hands, running my fingers over bumps and curves—all those things he thinks are imperfections. But they aren’t. They’re perfectly Eric.

  I keep waiting for him to stop. There’s always that point when he starts gasping for air, and now that I know why. Something sits in the back of my mind preparing for it. But his breathing is extremely heavy now, and he’s still kissing me. His hands peel at the fabric of my shirt. He lets go of my lips and bites down on my neck, eliciting a long moan from somewhere in my chest.

  “Eric,” I gasp, gripping the back of his head.

  “I’m not hurting you, am I?” he asks, his voice raspy and deep, unlike I’ve ever heard him before. I hitch a leg over his hip and he keeps it there by clutching my ass.

  “Do it again?” I can’t catch my breath. My vision’s getting spotty. Eric sinks his teeth into my neck again, and I have to tighten my hold on him or I’ll fall to the tub floor. His bites move to my shoulder. He snaps my shirt sleeve with his teeth, then moves back up my neck, biting, kissing, nibbling, sucking, licking, freaking driving me to the edge of insanity.

  I want to reciprocate. I start attacking his jaw with my own kisses, but he moves down, and I forget what I was doing. I can’t concentrate on anything but his lips grazing the top of my breasts, his teeth biting through my shirt. When he hovers over my hardest point, hands firm on my wet skin, I gasp for air, gulping in steam and Eric’s scent, and wait for him to stop. I try to push back the warmth radiating from between my legs, but after he takes a deep breath, his hand tightens on my ass, pulling me closer to his hips. His mouth closes over me, and he starts sucking the water from my shirt. I clutch his head, hold him to me and try not to move too much, so we don’t lose our balance, but I can’t help rocking against his leg.

  He adjusts his hips and I stop thrusting because I’m not sure if that was too much for him, but he lifts his face, eyes burning into mine, and he . . . he smiles. A tiny laugh of relief escapes my mouth, and he catches it with his.

  “Stop worrying,” he says between kisses. “I’m fine. You feel incredible.”

  “You promise?”

  He pulls back, capturing me with his gaze again. His playful grin frees the tension in my stomach. He settles his hand on the wall by my head and yanks my knee tight around his hip with the other. His hardened muscle hits me with unbelievable pleasure, making my eyes roll back while another drawn-out whimper rumbles in my chest. His hips retreat and I hold on to his neck, anticipating the next thrust, forcing myself not to make the move first. Eric presses his lips to mine, and like everything we’ve done up until this point, he moves in beautiful, slow, torturous motions that leave
me satisfied and wanting more all at the same time.

  He pulls away from my mouth and says, “I love you,” and I’m pretty sure I say it back, but I don’t really know what I’m saying, because his hand is traveling to my shorts. His fingers open the button and pull at my zipper. His breath is scorching hot against my neck as he says, “You feel so good, Emmy,” and I know I don’t say anything this time, but I kiss him and snake my hand down to him, wanting to feel all of him while he feels me. My heart’s ballooning in my chest. Fireworks go off in my brain. I can’t see or hear or think, all I do is feel.

  Eric’s hand moves from my shorts, and I’m half-disappointed, half-elated, because now I get him, but fingers slip over my mouth, and my eyes open to Eric’s furrowed brow.

  He’s not breathing.

  My hands are on his cheeks in a second.

  “Are you okay?”

  He nods, looking over his shoulder. I keep silent, not sure what to do to help him. Do I ask if he got his prescription filled? Do I call his therapist? Let him work it out? Was it me or him or both of us?

  “Em?” he whispers, still not looking at me.

  “Yeah?”

  “I think . . . I think I hear someone.”

  Chapter 26

  Eric Matua’s birthday (21 years old)

  Give him a birthday gift

  ***

  There’s relief on her face for a brief moment, then Em’s eyes form perfect circles.

  “What?”

  “Shhh.” I tap my finger against her wet lips, push back the desire to lick every inch of them, and listen for the deep voice I swear I heard just a second ago.

  The shower stream is smacking the curtain, so I bend down and settle the attachment back where it goes. I hear someone laugh, someone squeal, someone say, “Hey!” and Em grasps my forearm.

  ,There’s a knock on the bathroom door.

  “Yo, bro, I know you’re taking a shower, but Isaac is going to wet himself if he doesn’t get in there.”

  “Bafroom!” Isaac shouts, and Em buries her face in my shoulder to cover her laughter.

  “Uh, yeah,” I croak and squeeze Em’s side. “Make it quick!”

  The door opens, and the cold air floods into the room. Em pushes the curtain against the wall on one side while I grab the other. Her lips are pressed together, still holding in that laughter. I flick some of the shower stream at her face and she cuts that out.

  “No, Isaac, you gotta push it down when you sit or it’ll get everywhere,” Tolani says, and Em snorts. I shake with my own amusement, close the distance between us, and softly cover her mouth.

  “Uh . . . Eric?”

  “Dude, don’t talk to me while I’m in here.”

  Em’s still laughing, and I don’t know how to get her to stop, and it’s making my own chuckles erupt.

  I hear the door shut, but Isaac starts singing on the toilet, so I know they’re still in here.

  Tolani drops his voice. “Just curious where Mia is. Because uh . . . Mom’s waiting for you in the living room. So if I need to, say, create a diversion, you might want to let me know now.”

  Em pulls me against her, and my feet slide a little in the tub. She hides her face in the crook of my neck as she bites back her growing fit of giggles.

  “Yeah, a diversion would be good.”

  Tolani chuckles, Isaac says, “I did it!” and we hear the toilet flush. Before they leave, my brother says, “Hope you guys are done in there, because I’m going to distract Mom starting now, and I can only promise about two minutes.”

  The door clicks shut and I tickle Em’s stomach. “This is not that funny,” I tell her, but I’m grinning. “I was cock-blocked by a three-year-old.”

  “I’m sorry.” She tickles me back. “I thought they weren’t coming till tonight.”

  “I should’ve known my family wouldn’t have the time right.” I swipe her wet hair from her face as she runs her nails across my abdomen.

  “Help me get out of here?”

  I shut off the water and get the towel on the back of the toilet. She snuggles into it as I wrap it around her shoulders. Her cheeks are pink and shiny, and she looks gorgeous as hell as her eyes turn to mine. I know I shouldn’t lose focus, so instead of kissing those lips, I opt for kissing her forehead.

  “You look good wet,” I say, and her smile widens.

  “I’m wet a lot around you.” She attempts to wink, and I laugh and tighten the towel around her.

  “Later.”

  “Later?” There’s breathless hope in her voice. My eyes drop to her parted lips, her flushed neck, over the fuzzy towel to her dripping legs. I step toward her, tucking a wet piece of hair back to her ponytail.

  “I’d like to try.” I can’t stop my mouth from meeting hers briefly. “As soon as I get rid of my family. And well . . . get some protection.”

  Her teeth come out over her lip and I watch her cheeks turn red. “I’m already on top of that.”

  I raise an eyebrow and stop rubbing the towel. “In what way?”

  “I have an IUD.” She presses against me, and I have to remember that we aren’t alone. “I also got some condoms after we made things official between us. But if you haven’t . . . I mean, I’m clean, so we don’t exactly need them.”

  My heart’s pounding a little too hard. I think Em knows I’m going haywire with all the visuals that are flitting into my head, because she leans forward, warm breath hits the bottom of my chin, and she opens the towel and tucks me in with her. “I love you.”

  “Love you, too,” I say as my breathing calms.

  “Now get me out of here without your mom seeing.”

  I smile against her hair and nod. “Stay behind me.”

  * * *

  “Manuia lou Aso Fanau, my Esekielu!”

  My mom squishes my cheeks and then wraps a leafy green ula around my neck. My eyes dart down the hall to Em’s room, then I turn them back to my family so I don’t look as jumpy as I feel.

  “Thanks, Tin’a,” I say and kiss her on the cheek. She pats my shoulder and starts passing around the less extravagant garlands to my brother and his wife. There’s an extra one sitting on her arm after she’s done.

  “Uh, who’s that for?”

  My mom’s smile pushes her plump cheeks up enough to almost close her eyes. It’s one of the most beautiful things about her, and I’ve told her that, but she hits me when I use the word “plump.”

  “Emilia.”

  I shoot a glare at Tolani, who has his hands up like he didn’t say shit. But it doesn’t stop that stupid-ass grin he’s got, like he knows I’m getting some, even if I’m not, and I reach over and sock him. Mom laughs and pulls me down to her level for another hug, squeezing the air out of me.

  “I’m not mad, Esekielu.”

  Oh, I wasn’t worried about her getting mad, but I hug her back as if that’s what it was, and suppress a groan.

  As soon as my tin’a lets me breathe, my sister-in-law, Candace, adjusts Baby Mason on her hip and wraps me into a one-armed hug. She whispers in my ear, “Tolani is a horrible actor.”

  I let out that groan, and she kisses my cheek before pulling back. I stop Mom as she half dances down the hallway to get to my girlfriend.

  “Will you at least let me warn her before you go crashing into her room?”

  “Oh, she’ll be fine. It’s just me.” She waves me off and keeps going. I raise my voice because once she starts it’s hard to stop her.

  “Mom, I’m not sure if Em is ready for . . .”

  Her hand wraps around the doorknob and she does her classic “knock then open the door before you have a chance to say anything.” Em yelps, and my eyes bulge when I see her stuff something long and cylindrical under her pillow. Her face is the brightest red I’ve ever seen, and she seems to have lost the ability to use her voice.

  I open my mouth, but look at that . . . my voice is gone, too.

  “Oh! You were right, baby,” Mom says and pushes on my stomach to get m
e to move out of the doorway. “We’ll give you a minute, sweetheart.” She takes the ula off her arm and slides it onto Em’s doorknob, then gives her a smile and a wave that Em only sort of returns before she shuts the door.

  Mom’s laughing as she heads back to the living room. I get halfway before I turn around and lock myself in Em’s bedroom with her. She’s sitting on her bed with her mouth wide open as she shakes her head at me. I’m not sure what to say, not even sure why I ran back in here, but Em’s mouth spreads into a smile and she covers her face and falls back onto the mattress.

  “Oh my gosh,” she says, and her back shakes with laughter.

  It undoes me. Seeing her laugh about what could quite possibly be the most embarrassing thing that could happen has me sliding on the bed with her, laughing and kissing the top of her head and wanting to touch and tease and just be with her, and not just now. But for . . . well, for forever.

  She leans up, face still tomato red as she brushes hair from her face. “I thought you guys were gone. You know, giving me a chance to ‘get home’ when you’re not here.”

  “That probably would’ve been a good idea.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Can I ask what you were doing?” I tease her.

  She glares at me, crossing her arms. “You know what I was doing. Stop that.”

  “Just want to know why.”

  “You know why, too. You weren’t the only one who was cock-blocked.” She pinches my knee and I jerk back. “Just because it’s your birthday doesn’t mean you can pick on me.” She pulls her knees to her chest. “Now I have to go out there after that.”

  I grab her hand and weave our fingers together. “Em, Mom’s not going to say anything.”

  “But now she’ll look at me and think about . . . ack! This is horrible.”

  “You don’t need to worry. Trust me, she was planning our wedding five years ago.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. So, stop. We’ll go out there together and you can say hi to my brother. And Candace’s here.”

  “Oh, I like her.”

  “And if things get awkward, you can play with the baby.”