The Valentines Day Proposal

by Bella Winters

  “You’re going to get drunk,” I protested as he opened it and took a long sip. I remembered how worried Bella was when he started drinking after her mom died. He seemed to slow down, but I stepped forward and reached out to touch his shoulder. Boyce lowered the bottle from his full lips and stared at me with a heat in his eyes that made me shudder.

  “I’m not drunk,” Boyce assured me as he remained still, my hand over the soft blue cloth of his shirt. His skin was hot, and my finger throbbed as I stood there, staring at his neck. I remembered what he said about not pushing me and I gulped helplessly as I raised my eyes to his face. I should walk away. I should end this right now and go upstairs to finish packing. There would be plenty of guys in college to experiment with, but none of them would be Boyce.

  I gripped him tightly, feeling his muscles tense under my hand. Boyce had a few inches on me and I lifted to slide my free hand up his chest and around his neck as his eyes darkened. I felt fear hit me and before it could stop me, I stood on my toes and pressed my lips to his. The contact hit my whole body and I held onto him as my knees threatened to buckle. Boyce slipped his arm swiftly around my back and pulled me closer to him, tilting his head to slowly deepen the kiss. I moaned as I parted my lips for him and he pressed me into the counter, slipping his tongue against mine.

  I’d kissed a few guys in high school, even the older boy when I was in middle school. Nothing felt like this and I gave into him, feeling his tongue sweep my mouth as the taste of beer and mint hit me. He reached a hand down to cup my ass as I whimpered, squeezing gently as I kicked off my heels.

  His lips were rough on mine as he eased my body up on the counter, stepping between my parted legs. I felt the dampness of my underwear as he kissed me one more time before pressing soft kisses to my face. “Are you wet for me, Vivian?"

  I cried out, ashamed to answer. Boyce nibbled gently at my jaw as he pushed my hair back with one hand and held me steady with the other.

  This was my best friend’s dad. He raised me from the age of ten but none of that mattered as he eased himself between my thighs, hard against me. “Tell me that you want this, Vivian.”

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