This Is Us

Chapter 26

I feel like she could easily be near tears, and I don't want that for her and definitely not for our night.  I tug on her hands and motion for her to join me. I lay out on the couch on my back as she tucks herself on her side between my body and the back cushions. "This couch is a lot wider than I expected."

  AnnaBelle finally smiles again. "I bought it for that reason. On the days I could get him to take a nap he'd only do it if it was with me, on the couch. So, I upgraded as he got a little bigger."

  I maneuver my arm under her, giving the invitation for her to rest her head on my chest if she'd like. "This okay?" she asks me, her chin sitting on my chest.

  "I thought that was my line," I tease, my fingertips running along her forearm.

  "Beat ya to it."

  We settle into a comfortable spot, quiet as the documentary begins its next segment on a woman who was believed to spontaneously combust.

  "How does that even happen?" I say aloud, not expecting any actual answer.  But of course Belle sasses me, "Listen and find out," her hand taps against my chest. I playfully bat at the hair sticking out of the band on her head.

  A half hour later and they've moved on to a guy who owned a sort of speak easy during The Great Depression. He'd take life insurance policies out on his frequent clientele, only to help them drink themselves to death. 

  "I've heard about this one!" she says with a new excitement. "He had this one guy whose health would just never deteriorate so he started putting in things like antifreeze, turpentine and even rat poison. Dude even ran him over with a taxi and nothing. They finally killed him by forcing a hose down his throat, funneling gasoline. Crazy."

  "Definitely," I agree with her, but my attention is no longer on the television show as I reach up and pull the band out that's holding her hair. She shifts a little in my arm, warm brown eyes glancing up at me.

  Using two fingers I tilt her chin up, placing a soft kiss to her lips before the same hand is fanning out her hair. Belle faces me a little easier, hair splayed out over her shoulders and onto my polo, looking more beautiful than she did earlier in the day.  The pads of her fingers run gently over the scruff of my beard.

  Her eyes find mine as her breathing stutters.  When she glances down to my lips I pick my head up a bit, meeting her for a slow languid kiss.  I take my chances, brushing my tongue against the seam of her lips, a whimper emitting from her before she's parting her mouth. Lightly my tongue moves against hers, slowly and with ease.

  But then my neck reminds me of the strange angle I'm in and my head is falling back against the armrest, separating us once more.  Belle realizes my discomfort as I rub against the back of my neck while she giggles. But the giggles stop and she's sinking her teeth into her lower lip. She looks like she's either waiting for permission from me or herself to do what she wants to do. I can't help her with her own decision, but I can give her mine. The hand not wrapped around her body threads it's fingers through her hair, lightly gripping at the roots and bringing her back to my waiting lips.

  It's a steady kiss, there's no rush behind it, moments for us to just be close to one another, another step closer if you will.  There's a comfort she's trying to find, to let herself get lost in. A comfort she hasn't felt in years. The fact that I'm the guy she's attempting it with for the first time does not go unnoticed.

  I have every intention of keep this mild, barely PG, happy with just the fact that she's letting me taste her mouth, my hand sunk deep into her hair. But then her hand is slipping under the hem of my shirt, her palm coasting over my abs. "Belle," her name settling between both of our lips. She's on the move again, her lips back on mine. The hand that was in her hair now comes to cup her jaw.  "Belle, baby."