"You don't look quietly disgusted at all," Millie said accusingly. They laid on their sides, face to face, half-dressed and blissfully high on oxytocin.
"Neither do you," Ben countered, brushing his thumb over her smiling lips. "You didn't make it all that quick, either."
"Excuse me?" she huffed. "You're the one that's been 'working on your stamina.' I came in like, two minutes."
"At least I kept you quiet," Ben said. "Ish." He scooted in a little closer and kissed the tip of her nose. "We should probably get dressed. I don't think I want to know what would happen if Rebecca caught us doing this in her house."
Pushing herself up on her elbows, Millie chuckled. "Honestly, if Rebecca sent you up here while I was changing, this is exactly what she wanted to happen."
Slightly incredulous, he raised an eyebrow. "Why would she want us the fuck on the floor of her guestroom?"
"Just one more way to ensure I leave with you and never come back. That woman is the most machiavellian person I have ever met."
"She says with a note of quiet awe," Ben said, rolling his eyes, and mussed her hair before sitting up beside her. "God, I needed that. I don't think I could have made it from here to Corvallis with you without getting a public indecency charge."
"Maybe the cops would go easy on you, since you're the birthday princess."
"Well, now we won't have to find out." He eyed her up and down, then added, "Probably."
Millie tried to sit up, but she quickly fell back against the floor, cringing. "Damn it, I'm leaking on the rug."
"One second, I'll find you some duct tape," Ben replied, then kissed her nose one more time before hopping to his feet and heading into the bathroom. "Best I could do," he said as he returned and tossed her a washcloth, then knelt beside her to wipe up the mess on the carpet with a second one.
"Oh god, I'm sorry, you don't have to do that," Millie said as she toweled herself off. "I'll clean it up, just give me a second."
"Why? It's more my mess than yours," he replied cheerfully. It seemed she was the only one at all chagrined about the spill.
"You kind of love this, don't you?" she asked.
"What?"
"Leaving a little evidence."
"That we had sex?"
"That you won."
Though he tried to look affronted, he couldn't fully hide the smug little twitch tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I kind of did, didn't I?"
Finally, she could sit up without making further mess of herself or the flooring. "Is it really a win if it was no contest?"
"Are you kidding me?" He beamed. "That's the biggest win of all."
"Well. Far be it for me to diminish your victory." After a moment of crawling around in search of her underthings, Millie slipped her sweater back on and stood up. When she turned back to Ben, she found that he was too busy watching her dress herself to have gotten much further than pulling on his own pants. "Did you forget how buttons work?" she asked, walking over to smooth out the wrinkles in his half-open shirt.
"What's a button?" Ben responded blankly.
"You're an idiot," she said, but humored him, fastening the last few buttons as he smiled down at her. "There. You're on your own with your shoelaces, though."
"What's a shoelace?" he replied. Before she could comment further on his intelligence, or lack thereof, he took her face in his hands and derailed the bit with a lengthily languorous kiss. She closed her eyes and let herself get lost in it, giving into a fleeting fantasy that it could really be this easy. Just for this moment, that ever growing list of complications couldn't touch them.

YOU ARE READING
This isn't weird.
RomanceThis is absolutely, definitely, 100% NOT the beginning of a bizarrely elaborate romantic fantasy starring Ben Schwartz. Are you kidding me? That would be so fucking weird. Who does that? I'm 31 years old. I am not the kind of unhinged person that wo...