From Me to You [Complete]

20

When we get to his cottage –down the path, across and down the street, and finally up his driveway– I really start to feel more like myself. Michael also seems to be less concerned about me fainting. He holds open the door for me. "After you, Miss," he says in a British accent, gesturing with one hand for me to hurry through. I try to curtsy in his direction, a little gracelessly, and add a flourish with my towel that looks more like I just threw it. I straighten up, attempting to smooth my cover-up down my front as I walk inside.

Michael starts laughing and darts inside after me, making me giggle. I spin, reach out and tickle him along his ribcage. He gasps. "Ah! You...! What do you think you're...!" he manages to get out around laughter and groans.

I laugh back, dodging his attempts to get a good handle on me as I drop my towel on the floor. Then I continue to tickle him as he swats at my hands. We fall onto the couch with me lying on top of him. Both of us breathing heavily and smiling, looking at each other. He blinks slowly, like he doesn't want to close his eyes in case he misses something. His hands rest on my hips and mine are trapped between us where they fell mid-tickle. Our breath slows down as the tickle fight exhilaration fades. He winks at me, making me blush. He moves his head toward me and kisses me, gently at first, and then more and more fiercely. I feel like I'm getting a much better understanding of how kissing works, when I return his kiss passionately.

Michael breaks off and slips a stray strand of my hair behind my ear with his finger. "You sure you're alright?" he asks. His eyes watch mine.

"I'm positive I will be. I think I just need some more rest time," I say. I move to kiss him again but he puts a finger to my lips. "Yes?" I ask, slightly impatient.

He smiles, making me smile back. "I don't want to wear you out after such a tiring day," he says smoothly, almost sounding sincere. I roll my eyes good naturedly and peck his lips lightly.

Then I look at him, silently thanking our fathers for being friends, since it led to this. I want him, this, whatever we are doing. I still have trouble believing that I'm lying on top of Michael Lyon –I never thought this would happen. "Thanks for saving me," I whisper suddenly.

His eyes flash for a moment and his hands tighten onmy waist. He brushes my lips with his. "I don't regret it," he whispers back. 

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