Even If You Don't Mean It

Part Two

"What did you plan for us to do today, Sugar?"

"I thought we could watch a movie," you say, "Then I'd cook you dinner."

"You don't want to go out?" Sy asks.

"Sorry, I thought..." You turn your head away worried you're assuming too much. Sy puts a crooked finger under your chin and lifts your face to his.

"Go on," he says.

"I thought it would be nice... to be alone."

"That sounds perfect," Sy says, drawing out each word, showing his genuine affection for your plan.

Tension rises in your body, your muscles grow taut and expectant as he moves his hand to your neck. He gently fondles your throat then moves down your chest, his eyes follow the path of his hand until it rests between your breasts. Your lips part as your chest heaves beneath his hand, you can't catch your breath.

You think he's going to kiss you as he licks at his lips and places his hand on your cheek, instead he closes his eyes and leans his forehead against yours. You're both still, neither of you moving as you stay in the moment. He murmurs something you don't quite catch, something about being real. Then he opens his eyes, and they blaze with heat.

"What movie?" Sy asks throatily, as he lifts his head from yours.

"Huh?" You have no idea what he's talking about.

Sy chuckles and the tension breaks, suddenly you can breathe again, "What movie do you want to watch?"

"We don't have to," you say, downplaying your suggestion, "It's silly now that I think about it."

"No, Sugar. Tell me."

"Freddy versus Jason?" Sy's eyebrows raise when you say the title, and you cringe a little, it was a dumb idea.

"You remember that?" he asks, smiling crookedly.

"Of course," you smile, hesitantly.

"God damn, baby. You're such a sweet thing." He kisses your forehead, and his beard prickles your skin. He leans back a little and looks at you while you struggle not to squirm under his intense gaze.

"What?" you ask.

He keeps staring at you, but slowly the edges of his mouth lift into a smile, "Nothin'. Let's go watch the movie."

Sy smirks as you take him to your couch. You give him a questioning look as he sits and pulls you onto his lap, your legs straddling his huge thighs.

"I remember this couch," Sy says. "Thought about it a lot while I was gone."

His hands slide over your waist and he cups your ass. Your eyes widen as he pulls you closer and raises his hips until you can feel his jeans between your legs. He is so strong, manhandling you with ease and you giggle at his display.

"I remember too," you laugh.

Sy puts a hand on your neck and gently brings your face close to his. Sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, his eyes study your face before they roam lower.

"I remember you just like this," Sy says in a deep, rough tone, "Every time I'd think of you, you were sittin' just like this."

Words fail you as you swallow hard, and your heart picks up its pace. You place a hand on his shoulder and run it over to his neck. Sy's eyes close as your hand glides over the short velvety hair on his head and he makes that noise, that deep satisfied groan you heard on the phone so many times.

"You would touch me just like that," Sy mumbles. He opens his eyes, and he doesn't even try to hide the scorching urgency in them, "Keep doin' that."

Because you can't speak, you nod as you put your other hand against his chest. It slides down his shirt, and biting your lip, you savour every curve and dip of his muscles that you can feel through the thin cotton. You tug lightly at it, lifting the hem. Sy sits forward quickly, and you both pull it off.