Animate Me

by Ruth Clampett

  More specific…okay, here goes.

  “Well for one thing, I want to see more of you,” I say smiling as I gesture towards her chest. I look up at her to gauge her reaction. She’s completely non-flustered.

  Brooke looks pleased as she glances down at her shirt and nods. “You know this shirt has snaps. Why don’t you just rip it open?”

  “Really?”

  She nods and gives me the look. “I want you to rip open my blouse…come on…do it, Nathan.”

  I lean in toward her and press my fingers into where her shirt comes together. I curl my fingers over the fabric, imagine I’m Superman and pull with force. The shirt explodes open and I hear her take a sharp breath.

  I swallow hard. “Wow,” I whisper. I look up at her and she has a sultry expression. It’s clear she’s excited. My gaze trails down to her breasts, so hypnotizing in the sheer shimmering bra. My fingers flex anxiously wanting to touch her, but I realize that I should ask for something else. I picture Brooke in my mind, running her hands over her curves, cupping her softness as she gazes at me.

  “I want you to touch your breasts,” I say boldly.

  Brooke makes a show of it as she glides her fingers over her creamy skin. I notice her nipples harden under her circling fingers. She lets out a low moan as she watches me intently.

  “Like this?”

  I nod. Just like that.

  As she pinches her nipples she looks up at me and drags her tongue along her bottom lip. “And what would you like me to do now?”

  I reach up and place my hands at the top of her arms, not sure the best way to ask. I pause, and look down before I finally find my courage.

  “I want you on your knees,” I say in an unsteady voice.

  As she sinks down, I press lightly on her shoulders. But really she’s the one controlling the momentum. Once she’s on the floor she looks up at me, waiting for me to continue.

  “Touch me,” I whisper, struggling not to be embarrassed.

  She gently runs hers hands up my thighs and then settles over where I’m hard and pressed tight against my jeans. When her fingers press down, I shudder.

  “Brooke,” I moan.

  “Can I open this up?” she asks, as her fingers linger over the fly. “I need more.”

  “Uh huh,” I respond, my heart pounding.

  She teases, working slowly until her hand pulls the fabric apart and she grasps my hard-on. I close my eyes as her hand moves over me. With my eyes shut, I’m acutely aware of the symphony of sensations: the warmth of her fingers, the softness of her breasts pressed against my knees, and the quickening pace of her breath as her hand tightens and finds its slow rhythm.

  She suddenly stops and waits, still as can be.

  “Well, aren’t you going to tell me?” she challenges.

  “Tell me?”

  “Tell me what you want.” She looks determined, unyielding. “Or maybe you aren’t so sure what you want.”

  Why’s she challenging me? But then I start to understand that she needs this from me. It’s important for her to see how strong I can be with her, without my costume on. “I know what I want,” I assure her. “I always know what I want.”

  “Really?” she smirks playfully.

  “I’ve always wanted you,” I point out.

  “Anything else?”

  I know my face is bright red, but I try to ignore the flustered feeling of being embarrassed to ask for things that keep me up at night in my ever expanding world of Brooke fantasies. I clear my throat and look her in the eye. “I want your mouth on me.”

  She looks pleased, like a kid who got exactly what she asked for on Christmas morning. I see a flash of lust in her eyes before she takes me in her mouth. She circles her tongue over me until I have no sense of time or space, just Brooke. But then she pauses and continues with the damn talking. “See that wasn’t so hard?” she points out as she shakes her head defiantly.

  She asked me to be assertive and dominant, so here we go. “More…” I insist as I reach out and cradle her head, running my fingers through her hair. I guide her towards me until I’m back in her mouth.

  She hums with delight, before she pulls me in deeper.

  I’m mesmerized, watching her. Her eyes are half-mast, heavy with pleasure, and she moans each time I rock my hips. I reach over and brush her hair away from her face, but my hands remain and I give in to the temptation of pulling her even closer.

  I could’ve never imagined being like this with her, but at this rate I’m not going to last much longer. Something primal flares in me. I need to be buried inside of her, and I need it now. “Wait, I need you to stop,” I warn her as I ease her back. “Can you get up?” I ask, as I think of what we should do next. “Can we…?”

  “Yes?” she asks, watching me carefully.

  “I want you bent over the table,” I answer, more sure of myself.

  She looks intrigued as she lifts up. I put my hands on her hips, and she playfully pushes them off. “You have to tell me what you’re going to do.” She insists.

  “I think you know,” I put my hands back on her hips and turn her around. “I sure as hell won’t be pitching a show or conducting a storyboard meeting.”

  “Glad to hear it,” she teases.

  It just confirms my earlier thought; she needed to know I could take control. I rise and step right behind her, so that my erection presses heavy against her. I see her fingers spread flat against the wood grain of the oversized table as she waits for me, legs spread wide.

  I lean over her so that my chest brushes her back, and speak low into her ear. “Is this what you fantasized about?”

  She turns her face slightly towards me. “Yes,” she sighs. “This is exactly what I fantasized about.” I push her skirt up and see that she’s naked underneath.

  I swallow hard. “Wow…where are your panties?”

  “In my purse,” she whispers. “I wanted to be ready for you.”

  “Thank you.” I moan as I run my hand over her soft skin.

  I press her down towards the table with a firm hand. “Okay then. I’m going to take you now, Brooke.”

  “Yes,” she whispers with a ragged breath.

  She lies with her left cheek pressed against the table and her eyes closed as I push into her. I start really slow, focusing on every sensation but when she starts to touch herself I’m overcome . The harder I thrust, the louder she moans until I realize we’ve forgotten where we are. This is way hotter than I could have ever dreamed.

  There’s a haunting eroticism about being in this public place in our most private moment. As I move against her, the images of our week fill my mind and fuel my fire. She’s Wonder Woman, my enchantress willing to sink to her knees to please me.

  She belongs to neither the monkey nor the lumberjack. She belongs to me, and she’s so much more than I could’ve ever hoped for.

  My thrusts build hard and fast, as I try to consume her. When she starts to climax, she sparks the Looney Tunes fuse on my ACME bomb. My heart’s thundering, my breath a gasp, as I arc back…and then…Kaboom! For a moment, the room fades to black and I see swirling stars in my eyes.

  “Nathan?” she squeaks.

  I open my eyes and gasp for air. I think I blacked out for a moment. She calls out again, more urgency in her voice.

  “Nathan…you’re too heavy. I’m having trouble breathing!”

  I quickly lift myself up. I must have collapsed on top of her. “I’m so sorry, Brooke. Are you alright?”

  “I am now!” she sighs as she pushes up. “And I was more than alright a few moments ago.”

  I slowly pull out of her and lower her skirt, suddenly feeling very decadent. I can’t believe we just did that in a public conference room. “Wow,” I say awestruck, as I pull her upright. “I sorta lost control.” I adjust my glasses that are askew.

  She nods. “I’ll say. That was even hotter than my fantasy.”

  “Really?” I ask, grinning.

  “See…y
ou showed me you can be bold and get what you want,” she assures me with a happy, dazed expression.

  “It wasn’t too rough? You liked it…really?” I ask uncertainly, as I tuck myself away and pull my jeans closed. I feel the old Nathan in me returning and I’m a little nervous. That dominant stuff is hot, but it really isn’t me.

  She pushes me playfully and gives me a mock stern look. “How can you even ask that? Wasn’t my pleasure pretty self-evident?”

  I nod, with a sheepish look. “I guess so.”

  “You know, this has been the best week ever,” she says.

  “I agree.” Suddenly the idea of going back to work is pointless. “Hey, can we just take off now? I’m starving!” I announce, as we work our way out of the room, and approach the elevators.

  “Sure,” she agrees. “How about burgers at In-N-Out?”

  “Animal style?”

  “Is there any other way,” she asks grinning.

  Animate Me / Chapter Twenty-Four / The End of the Woo

  “They can’t order me to stop dreaming.” Cinderellaxxiii

  The next morning, Brooke wakes up and looks troubled.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, stroking her cheek.

  “It’s our last day of woo week,” she says sadly.

  She has no idea how the dread of tomorrow is creeping up my spine.

  “Don’t remind me. I don’t want it to end. Let’s not end it…let’s just keep it going,” I reply, trying to sound upbeat.

  She smiles softly. I can tell there’s nothing she’d like more. “By the way, I’m making dinner for you tonight,” she informs me.

  “Really? You’re cooking?” I guess the look of disbelief on my face is a bit off-putting.

  “Watch it!” she warns me. “I can cook…I can bring home the bacon and fry it in the pan, you know.”

  I smile at her. “And I love that I’m learning that about you.”

  “Besides,” she continues. “I haven’t wooed you enough. You deserve a lot of woo, world-class woo.”

  My girl wants to woo me. I reach over and gently squeeze her hand.

  “Okay, Ms. Woo, dazzle me.”

  When I leave her place it hurts to drive away. It’s a physical pain, like I’m being pulled apart. Everything feels wrong the whole way home.

  So I spend my afternoon with B-Girl, doing the digital color work over the inked lines for the new issue. I’m going to hate when I get so busy that I’ll have to give up this part of the process, because every time I color in a page, I feel like I’m bringing B-Girl to life.

  It’s not long now before Brooke meets her. However nervous that makes me, I know in my heart she’ll adore her just as I do. B-Girl is the physical manifestation of my love and admiration for her. I think Brooke also understands by now that with her strength, kind heart and goodness she’ll always be a super hero to me.

  • • •

  Incredibly impatient to be with her again, I break Curtis’s dating law and show up early for our dinner. Instead of peonies, I’ve brought roses from my garden, and a bottle of red wine. When she opens the door she’s barefoot and wearing an apron, her cheeks flushed.

  “I thought I’d come a little early and help,” I offer as I step inside.

  “I bet it’s because you missed me so much you couldn’t stay away,” she teases.

  “Am I that obvious?”

  She turns and kisses me.

  “Yeah,” she acknowledges laughing. “It’s one of the things I’ve always loved about you.”

  She directs me to open the wine while she stirs and fusses over the stove. The salad and garlic bread require her attention as well. After I pour the Chianti, she lets me taste the Bolognese sauce. It’s so good that I moan happily, and she grins. My girl can cook…damn.

  For a moment I glance around and wonder if she’ll let me move in…like, tonight. With Brooke, wherever she is, is where I want to be.

  She makes me wait while she carries everything outside to the patio. The last thing she does is take my roses, now nestled in a little vase, out to the table.

  “Come on Mr. Woo,” she coaxes, pulling me by the hand.

  I smile and follow as she leads me to her little wonderland. The table is tucked under a canopy of twinkly lights, with the Harry Connick CD playing. The food smells wonderful.

  “Wow, Brooke,” I sigh.

  “See, I can woo too,” she says grinning as we take our seats.

  “Thank you…for this.”

  She smiles sweetly, unfolds her fancy napkin and smoothes it over her lap.

  My heart’s so full as I watch her refill our wine glasses. It’s all the little details of what’s she’s done for me that tells me so much.

  We take our time and savor dinner, despite a nervous buzz. There’s a current of electricity crackling through us only slightly muted by the wine and her soothing touches. Woo week has been everything I’d hoped for and more…but with heavy hearts, we both know it’ll soon come to an end.

  When our plates are pushed away we finally face the looming elephant on the patio. “How are you feeling about tomorrow?” I ask, trying to mask my anxiety.

  She looks down and I see the darkness move over her expression.

  “Not great,” she admits.

  “What are you most worried about?”

  “Well, obviously I’m not looking forward to my conversation with Arnauld. It’s not going to be fun.”

  I nod and wait for more.

  “He doesn’t like it when he doesn’t get his way.”

  I sit silently, staring at my wine glass before taking another sip.

  “What do you think he’ll say?”

  “I’m not sure. His manipulation can take different directions.”

  “Are you ready for that. I mean, you’re sure of what you want, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, of course.” She takes my hand in hers. “I’ve just got to deal with him and get it over with.”

  I suddenly picture Brooke with Arnold and my stomach falls. A seed of fear is planted, growing through me wild and untamed. What if he says something that scares her just enough?…enough so that she’s not so sure after all?

  Feeling edgy, I push my chair back and get up, walking to the railing. I take a deep breath trying to calm myself as I gaze at the view.

  I feel her settle next to me. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m nervous,” I admit. “I don’t want you to have to go through this. It makes me crazy how he tries to manipulate you.”

  “I know,” she admits. “But I need to finish this conversation with him so we can move forward.”

  I turn and look at her. She needs to understand how serious this is for me. “Brooke, you know how much I love you, and now that I know you love me too, everything’s changed. I can’t share you with him or pretend to the world that you’re not my girl.” I take a deep breath and imagine life moving on as it was, as if nothing happened. I shake my head. “I just can’t.”

  “I don’t want that either,” she says quietly.

  I know what has to be said. “This has to be it…an end for Arnold, and a beginning for us. If it isn’t…”

  “Yes?”

  “I can’t just sit back and watch you with him, knowing you love me. You have to make a choice. It’s the only way for me.”

  She steps into my arms and rests her cheek on my chest.

  “Well, of course I choose you,” she says softly, with no trace of hesitation.

  My breath catches as I pull her tight against me. When we kiss, the emotion is raw as if each fear we had buried this week has broken through the soil and come to light. Every feeling is heightened and dramatic like it’s the last time we will be together, even though we both know that isn’t the case.

  Pulling me inside to her bedroom, she’s rendered in gold from the cast of the twinkly lights outside the window. She kisses me again, but this time soft and slow, like butter melting.

  “Brooke,” I moan as her fingers purposefully unbu
tton my shirt, and slide it off. She leans into me, kissing my shoulder, and tenderly feathers her lips up my neck.

  I’m silent, yet my heart speaks to her as I hold her close.

  Love me

  I sense somehow she hears me. She pulls back enough to look up into my eyes.

  “Oh, Nathan,” she whispers. “Don’t you realize how much I need you?” Her voice has a desperate edge, her grip tight on my arms.

  Show me

  Her shirt peels off easily, a white flag waving before it falls. My lips trail across her forehead and into her hair. Hands reach, skimming bare skin, but it’s not enough. Insatiable, I crave more and more…I desire everything…every part of her.

  “I need you too, Brooke, more than you know.” I run both hands through her hair and pull her into a kiss.

  Choose me, my heart murmurs.

  Her hands pull my jeans open and I sigh as her fingers slowly dip inside.

  “I want you, baby,” she says softly.

  Another deep kiss, there’s a sharp pull from my heart to hers.

  “I’ll always take care of you…cherish you,” I say gently.

  Believe in me.

  “You promise?” She moves my hand to her breast, now bare.

  Cross my heart

  “Yes, yes,” I assure her, fingers circling as she leans closer.

  Be with me…forever.

  She pushes her skirt off her hips, until it puddles around her feet. She’s glorious in her bare beauty, curves to graze with my tongue, my fingers, my soul.

  Her lips press against my ear, the soft whisper. “Make love to me.”

  Yes. She is mine.

  Up on the bed, I’m on my knees with her soft hips cradled in my hands. I pull her closer slowly. The sense of fullness once I’m completely inside of her is overwhelming. She’s a vision as she moves with me. Even in the faint light I can see her eyes look straight through me.

  I love you, Brooke

  “Nathan,” she whispers, again and again as I touch her tenderly.

  Never stop calling my name…especially when you’re in my arms

  “Is this what you need?” I ask, my fingers sliding, full of intention while I continue to rock into her. I watch her carefully, every stroke an attempt to make her tremble.