I'm attempting to make a modern, twisted "romance" novel, but I'd like some input. Here's a couple samples. Email me if you have any comments! I'd love to hear them!
THE FIRST NIGHT TOGETHER...
I find myself again not knowing what to expect. Was his offer genuine, simply a place to sleep, or was he planning to have more secrets between us by morning. I glance at him and find his eyes probing deep within me as before. Eyes locked, chests filled with deep expectant breaths, our lips slowly travel the small distance to connect us as well. Our hands, anxious to learn all that they can about unfamiliar bodies, glide softly over backs, arms, faces, and chests. Our shirts are soon in the way and find themselves on the floor, releasing hands to a fury of motion. I want to feel all of him at once, and know that he wants the same of me, his hands caressing and pulling with hurried excitement.
With his hand on the small of my back, he pulls me toward him. Electricity dances through my veins as our skin meets, stomach to stomach, chest to chest. I slide my leg up his, letting it rest at his waist. His hand travels from my back, down my leg, and back, stopping before my waist on the way up. His fingers cling desperately to me, pulling me closer still. I feel the burning heat from between his legs as we become more entangled. His hand slips beneath the flannel pants he gave me and I feel the strength of his desire as his fingers dig into the soft skin of my hips. I run my hand down his back, under his pants, and onto silk boxers. I revel in the feel of the silk on my fingertips, then slide beneath them to feel his lean leg muscles flexed.
Blood races through our veins as writhe out of our remaining clothes, clumsy with anticipation as we let them fall to the floor on top of our shirts. I slide my hand down the side of his stomach and down his thigh, feeling the heat again as I pass within an inch of the source. I glance at his face and as his eyes delve into the depths of my heart, his hand gently guides mine to the source of the heat. He then runs his hand up the front of my leg to the lowest part of my stomach. Time melts away until I feel his fingers dig into my side, then his whole body relaxes. After a few minutes, when we can again hear our breathing over our heartbeats, he picks a few articles of clothing off the floor for us to slip into. I rest my head on his shoulder and fall asleep.
We pop in the movie, sitting on the couch at a perfect distance apart. A twinge of desire passes through me, but quickly fades. The movie ends but we remain. Jacob takes my glove and starts slapping me playfully with it. I counter-attack but he tickles me and I retreat.
He rises from the couch and attempts to make an escape to his bedroom, but I squeeze my way into his room before he can close the door. I reach out to take back my glove, but this time he pushes me against his dresser. Without wanting to acknowledge it, I feel his closeness, his hands on my arms and my leg slightly touching his. He lets me go and immediately I attempt another attack. This time he throws me to his bed, holds me down with one hand and tickles me with the other. His roommate, half jokingly, asks us to be quiet so, after first attempting to silence my laughter with a pillow, we make our way back to the now-empty living room.
I smile to myself in the dark, thinking to myself that this is exactly the friendship that I have longed to have with Jacob. We can be close, accepting the instant connection that had drawn us together those months ago, but not let ourselves be carried away by illogical passion. He lies down on the couch and gently pulls for me to lie next to him. I do, and he puts his arm around my waist. At first I am startled, but then I remember seeing him hug his friends, attribute his action to nothing more than friendly affection, and start to fall asleep at his side.
Before I fall asleep, I ask his permission to do so. He offers me his bed, promising that he will sleep on the couch. I decline, but accept his offer of blankets. Walking to his bedroom in search of a quilt, he stops me. His hands on my waist, he turns me to face him. His eyes delve into mine, as they had the night we met, and I cannot look away. Without blinking, he slowly moves toward me, his lips landing softly on mine, and I cannot resist him. He pulls away, still inside my mind with his gaze.
Suddenly I remember Gordon, and realize that Jacob’s action has just shattered our new-found friendship. Confused and angry, I accusingly question him, “So you can’t just be friends with me...?” Shocked pain flashes in his eyes and, without responding, he drops his hands from my waist, turns his back to me, and walks quickly to his room, slamming the door behind him.
The night of Matt and Jacob’s party, knowing that alcohol intensifies my emotions, I promise myself that I will not cry in front of them. If I start to feel sad over Gordon, I swear to myself that I will leave. I arrive and everything goes smoothly. Matt proudly displays his empty bottles and they help me to catch up. Soon I am laughing and falling off my chair, and Jacob takes my hands to help me up. I attribute the sudden wave of heat as I fall toward him simply to the alcohol. When I proclaim that I want to dance, however, the heat is unmistakably the electricity between our entangled bodies.
Finding standing too difficult, we put in a movie, and Jacob pulls me to his lap. I topple into his arms without second thought or complaint. Then suddenly I remember the feeling of Gordon’s arms and start to cry. I tell Jacob that I have to go, but his arms encircle my waist tighter as he whispers through my hair that everything will be okay. I tell him again that I have to go, that I just want to go away, but gently he sweeps the hair from my face and silences my argument as his lips press softly against mine. As he withdraws, he sees how much I need to get away, and offers to walk me home.
As we approach the street, I struggle to tear my hand from his, crying again. He pulls me into him, wrapping me in his arms as he looks down into my eyes with what I perceived to be unprecedented concern. Placated for the moment, I return my hand to his and continue to my apartment. We finally arrive, finding it dark, empty, and silent. Standing in the black kitchen, hands low on each others’ waists, we dare to break the silence with a whisper of comfort. Soon we find that we need more comfort from each other than words can offer, and as our arms clinging more desperately to each other, our mouths seek a physical escape from the world around us. Quickly the passion between us drowns our pain.
In one brief moment of respite from the haze of alcohol and lust, I fear being hurt by him again. Immediately he senses my withdrawal and his eyes draw my confession. I admit that he scares me. Softening, he tells me that he never meant to hurt me and that he never would again. My last inhibition quickly being consumed by the fire between us, we fall to my bed, embracing the desire we’d tried to deny for so long. Hours pass too quickly between heartbeats, clock and human hands sliding in silent ecstasy around the pale curves.
me: but i suppose the name doesn't really matter.... you won't be able to think of words when i'm done with you
him: oh really?
me: oh, you'll LET me tie you down? i don't think that's QUITE the way it works. i'll tie you down if i want... if you've been a naughty boy and deserve that sort of punishment.
him: but you are a poor thing who's all ready for some action and stuck at home
me: GOING crazy?? i've always BEEN crazy. but yes, this is rather frustrating
him: ok..... getting frustrated 'cause she wants to get freaky tonight
me: true. but i'll only tie you down if you're a naughty boy.
him: in what sense of the word naughty?
me: i'll let you decide
him:oh baby
me: whoops! did i say that???
him: should i just have you tie me down and have your way with me?
him: i don't know how you can contain yourself
him: you must be going crazy
me: although, it sounds as though I'M the one that'd be doin' all the lovin'.... i haven't heard anything from you....
him: but if i'm tied down i can only do so much
Sitting in class, staring at my fishnet knees with a monotone professor droning on about fixed perimeters and good business style somewhere in front of me, last night is the only thing on my mind. Snapshots flash before my eyes-- your hands on my legs, your mouth on my chest. Snapshots speed up like a secret home video played on a dusty projector-- in slow motion we engulf each other in the public doorway, in slow motion I feel you inside me.
My heart races eight rows up in a lecture hall and I wonder if, between customers at work, you're thinking the same. You were thinking the same over break and I had never dreamed I'd get a second's thought while you were away in the mountains. I never thought I'd admit that my sweetest dreams were of you.
Tongue in my mouth, arms wrapped around my waist, fingers clenching into my back-- I know it doesn't mean anything more than late-night stress relief, giving into raw lust, but every time you pull my body into yours, I don't want to let go until morning. I whisper my confession, that I'm tempted to ask you to stay the night, and you tell me I can ask but that you can't stay. I counter each of your reasons for leaving with a kiss, a leg sliding against yours, a hand slipping beneath your waistline, but still you stand to leave.
I reach my hands around from behind you, standing so my body is pressed against yours as I slide my hands down your stomach to your pockets. You take my hands in yours and instead wrap me around your chest. I want to kiss your neck, want you to turn and envelope me, kiss me, hold me, desire me, but I let the moment pass quietly.
Walking behind you to the door, I dread the thought of letting you go. You'll walk out my door without looking back, like you've done so many times before, and I am helpless to stop you. Defeated, I can barely find my voice to whisper goodnight. But my breath catches in my throat as you turn, pull me to you by my waist, and delicately touch your lips to mine in a goodnight kiss before you dissapear.
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my DEPRESSION, my INSANITY, my LOVE, my FAITH, my WORLD...
