Georgie
A swirl of a breeze; his hair ruffles, carrying the scent of him to me, the musk of his skin, the tang of some shampoo or cologne.
I want you…
… So much…
“Borje, is there something wrong with me?”
He inclines his head, his expression calm. “What do you think could be wrong with you?”
“I don’t know, but…” And my words dry up.
The fear bites, the constant fear that I’ll say the wrong thing and somehow ruin it. Like I’ve done so many times before. Already done this evening. My stomach cramps up. Always before, it didn’t matter. This time it does. It really does.
This man.
This beautiful man.
Who I want more than anything, anyone, I’ve ever wanted.
He stands, hands in pockets. “Georgie, talk to me.”
“You say you find me attractive but, don’t you… Don’t you want to touch me?
