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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/687454
Rated: 18+ · Book · Romance/Love · #1641697
"Fourteen Days + Seven Prompts = One Story." At least, that's the plan!
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#687454 added February 14, 2010 at 2:22am
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Rules of Engagement

Still got it Johnny boy.  Against all odds, she hadn’t run screaming for the hills after his breakdown. 

“Do I look presentable?” 

Such a ridiculous question, but he answered anyways.  “You look beautiful.”  And she did. 

Laughter had brightened her eyes to dark chocolate, her hair had dried into a riotous curly mass he wanted to sink his hands into and was equally sure she’d hate.  Not to mention that her lips were plump and flush and eminently kissable.  It would be poor first date etiquette to throw her over his shoulder and take her home.  Not to mention physically impossible.  That didn’t stop his mind from running through that and about a half-dozen other scenarios that ended in hot, sweaty sex.

“Then why are you staring?”

“Shit, was I really?  As you can tell,” he said, running his hands through his hair anxiously, “I’m really smooth.  I was thinking of how pretty you are.”  When her eyes widened with patent disbelief, he chuckled.  It was hard to believe she was this clueless.  He decided to go for broke.  “And that I wanted to take you home, make love to you all night, and wake you up with breakfast in bed.”

She didn’t seem offended.  If anything, she looked contemplative, biting her lip and rubbing the sand dollar pendant, which struck him as nervous ticks.  But he was glad stating his desires hadn’t scared her off, though if there was anything he had learned tonight, it was that Tory didn’t scare easily.

“What’s for breakfast?” 

The question threw him for a fucking loop.  And, in a sign of how under his skin she’d gotten, turned him on.  “What’s for breakfast?  Toast and eggs.  Maybe bacon, if I have some around the house.  I can’t really make anything else.”  While he was talking she had stood and stretched, the hoodie she wore lifting high enough for him to make out the glint of a navel ring.  Which, naturally, set his mind to wondering over the parts of her that were still covered. 

“I love bacon.  It’s a tempting offer.”  She smiled coyly at him, before adding, “Probably not tonight though.”  The disappointment he felt was mild.  As long as she agreed to go out with him again, they’d end up in bed sooner or later.  This was someone worth waiting for.  “I’m not really in a bar mood anymore.”  Now that she mentioned it, neither was he.

“Is it presumptuous to invite you back to my place to watch a movie?”

“Depends.”

--

He was going to kiss her.  Tory knew it even before he carefully got up from the chair and prowled in her direction.  True, it was only five feet or so and without the cane his limp was very pronounced, but it was some class A prowling.  She had to remind herself to exhale.

Tilting her head upwards, John didn’t bother with preliminaries, kissing her with more power than finesse.  Exhilarated, she kissed him back with equal enthusiasm.  His mouth gentled, nibbling on her lips and tasting her tongue.  Unthinkingly, she wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer.  What she managed to do was destabilize them both.  He rolled sideways so that they landed on the floor with much swearing on her part and some rueful laughter on his.

“Everything ok?” He ran his hands over her lightly, ostensibly checking for bruises.  Tory might have been light of breath, but it had little to do with the fall.

“Only thing bruised is my pride.”

“I don’t know.  It’s not every day girls tackle me to the ground.  I think I like it.”  Although John spoke jokingly, the erection pressing into her belly told her the intelligent thing to do would be to climb off of him. 

“I like to have insurance.  If I tackle you, you can’t run away.”  His laugh was even more intoxicating when she could feel his muscles rippling beneath her.  Ok, time to get up Tory, before you do something stupid.

“You should get up before I do something stupid.  I’d offer to help but …”  Once again he did that mind reading trick. 

Somehow she got herself up with minimal fuss.  She offered him a hand, which he surprised her by taking.  Apparently her shock had been written on her face because he said, “I’m a man, Tory, not an idiot.  How else am I going to get up with my cane clear across the room?” 

“Telekinesis?”

He smiled but didn’t take the bait.  “What’s it going to be princess?”

Wasn’t that the question of the day? 

Sometimes Tory, people come along that are agents of change.  Not all change is good, her stepfather confessed, but all change is necessary.  That was the day her mother presented Todd with divorce papers.  She’d never understood what such a decent man was doing with Andrea.  At the time, his “agents of change” speech had seemed little more than justification for nearly five years of unhappy marriage.  Looking at John though, she had an inkling of what he meant.  Likely as not, any relationship between them had an expiration date.  She wasn’t naïve enough to assume one confessional could erase two years of psychic and physical trauma.  But was it a possibility worth exploring?  Her gut said yes.

“On one condition.”

“Name it.”

“I need to know your last name.” 

“Believe or not, Smith.”  Seeing her surprise, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.  “It’s on the license.  John Anthony Smith. Laugh it up, see if I care,” he said faux-grudgingly as she did just that. 

“Who seriously names their kid John Smith?” 

“My parents.  Very creative people.  They named my brother Robert and my sister Jane.”

“Well Mr. John Smith, it’s a pleasure to meet you.  I’m Victoria Anne Zemeckis.”  He shook the hand she extended.  “Before you ask, it was my mother’s lover in between husbands three and four.  An Estonian artist or something.  I’d happily trade you for a Smith.”

“Ah, but will you go home with one?”

“Fair warning, I like girly movies.”

“I’m sure I could dig something up.  Maybe Romancing the Stone, in honor of your namesake?  I’ll even play by high school rules.”

“Which are?”

“Everything’s fair game, so long as it’s over the clothes.” 

She let go long enough to get his cane, then re-threaded her arm with his.  “That sounds like a most excellent idea.”  The grin on his face was the mirror image of her own.  They were going to have a world of fun together. 

She made up her mind.  If he did everything else as well as he kissed, high school rules be damned.  Life was much too short to pretend otherwise. 

“Let’s go back to your place.”



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