John Entwistle #2

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Imagine cooking dinner for you and John. He sat on the couch watching you twirl and dance around as you cooked with a grin on his face. You were singing bits and pieces of songs too, turning every now and then to give him a wink or a smile. He shook his head and lifted himself off the couch, strolling over to you with a smirk. He kept his eyes on you intently, making you feel shy in his gaze. You slowly stopped your singing as he placed his hands on your hips and began to push you up against the counter. He leaned his forehead on yours, pressing the rest of his body to yours.

"You know," he began in a soft and calm voice like always, "if you keep teasing me like that, dinner might just have to wait."

You glanced up to meet his blue eyes, getting butterflies from that look he was giving you.

"I guess I'll keep teasing you then," you said in a breathy voice as your eyes flickered to his lips now, wishing they were on yours.

His hands gripped tighter on your waist as he brushed his lips against yours, "have it your way then," he breathed before he lifted you up on the counter, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist while his lips crashed into yours.

He kissed you hard as he could, as if he couldn't get enough and you couldn't either. You ran your fingers through his dark hair as your tongue battled for dominance with his. You began to smell something burning. You pulled away which caused John to groan in frustration. You looked down at the chickened that was now burnt to a crisp.

"Oh no," you said in a sad voice, "our food is ruined."

He took his hand and placed it under your chin, turning your head to look at him, "I guess we'll have to do something else for dinner then."

You rolled your eyes with a little smile as you pulled him back to you, bursting into a fit of giggles as he lifted you off the counter and carried you towards the bedroom.

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