Showing off can be fun.
" There, the truth and nothing but.
"Adventure?" she snorted sardonically, but a fresh tear ran down her right cheek, "I bet you fuck a lot of women and call it an adventure, a masquerade; lie and pretend to be someone you're not and call it fun and games."
It was his turn to get riled up, it's true that he indulged and didn't turn down many offers from sexy women, but she was different, "You're the only one I lied to for sex. I know it sounds weird as shit, but it means you're special to me."
She laugh/coughed, "You are one fucked up dude." Her eyes blinked fast again in an attempt to contain her tears, but silently, they trickled down her cheeks once again, "And I thought I was crazy for wanting Jack, I thought I was a mess for relying on a stranger to escape a rigid routine, but you are way, way out there, man."
He smiled self-deprecatingly, "I guess I am," he scratched the back of his head, "I wasn't that way before you."
She stared at him for a minute then whispered, "At first I was angry at you for taking Jack away from me," she wiped at her tears putting on that brave front he came to know so well, "but now I'm worried that you need serious help."
Taking a step towards her, "Yes, I need you."
She stepped back, "No, I meant professional mental help."
"Let's try this first," he cornered her in her own home, hands clasped possessively on her hips, he glued his gaze to hers and repeated with emphasis, "I really, truly am sorry, Jillian."
He held his breath waiting for her to slap him and call him an asshole or something, but she just roasted him with her silence for a few minutes. He was determined on winning her staring contest even if he had to stand in front of her all night and his feet fall asleep in his sneakers.
He felt her body melt in his hands at last, and raised his right hand to her face wiping the remaining tears off of her skin.
"How do you do that?" her voice was so low that he had to read her lips.
"I'm crazy about you, Jillian Zahra." He confessed ignoring the question that he didn't have an answer to, and lowered his head to hers while still biding his time, relying on his studious patience.
She looked at his lips, then up at his eyes, "You are, aren't you?" He nodded, and she dropped her eyes to his lips again, "Or you could be just plain ol' crazy," she murmured and rose to her tiptoes before he could deny her claim, and pressed her lips to his.
That electric, galvanizing feeling of her taste brought on a series of delicious shocks that attacked him all over. The arousal he's succeeded to contain since she opened the door for him, was now in control of him, rampant, and flagrant. He slithered his left hand around her hip cupping her ass and bringing her body forward to press against his erection, and slanted his mouth over hers deepening the kiss.
She didn't pull back or change her mind, which he was half-expecting, so he hugged her without breaking their kiss, and swiveled around so that his back was to the wall. The simple change of positions was meant as a part of his apology; it's your game now, it said. He didn't urge her to wrap her arms around his neck, or start taking off her clothes giving her the upper hand without relinquishing his control. He did, however, continue to run his hands on her sweet body feeling her softness through the thin layers of her barely-there clothes. The backs of her thighs were delicately shaped, firm, and warm leading to the treasure of her derriere that overfilled his big hands. He squeezed the full cheeks making her moan in his mouth and he licked her lips and touched his nose to hers squeezing again and lifting her up to align her crotch with his.
He waited for her, this time it was her choice to come to him.