I Know What U Need

☆☆☆☆☆

He was very familiar with her bedroom, though this time unlike all the others her door was shut. Her parents had always been a little liberal with their studying, if it could be called that. He thought this was because they were so excited she had shown interest in a boy. Barbi had once even successfully convinced them to allow him to stay the night when the snow had started gaining too many inches and ice began to freeze the roads, but as soon as they were caught kissing in a shadowed corner at the top of the stairs, rain, sleet, or tornado her parents wouldn't let that happen again. And instead of studying upstairs like usual they were banished to the kitchen table. Still though when her mom wasn't looking his fingers would slip underneath her shirt reaching for the soft warm flesh of her breasts, or she would rub a hand furiously against the crotch of his jeans until he couldn't stand.

Sitting on the pink quilt that covered her bed, his fingers traced the threads as he looked around her room, nothing had changed at all in these years. Her Clapton poster hanging over her headboard covering up a mural of a unicorn she had long since grown out of. A poster of Chuck Berry's duck walk peeked from a corner, the usually hidden photos of Jimmy Page, Jeff Beck, BB King and Lucille peered back to him plastered the other side of the closed door. Her penchant for guitar gods had always made him chuckle, just like the poster of Jimi Hendrix that hung steadily above her bed.

Barbi would watch him practice for hours at a time on an old acoustic guitar that used to belong to her father, her face never wavering from an excited grin as she watched intently as his fingers nimbly edged down the fret board. One day he had hoped to dethrone that Hendrix poster of its coveted spot.

With a small faraway smile his eyes finally fell on Barbi as she leaned against her vanity. The skirt she wore inching farther up her thigh as she leaned back against bright white wood. He felt a tinge of jealousy knowing he wasn't the only one she wore those skirts for anymore. The few feet between them felt like hundreds of miles. "Why are you all the way over there?"

"I told you I want to give you something." She turned around and began to shuffle through her jewelry box. He could hear the slight tinkling tune as she opened it. His once small smile grew wide as he watched her bend over. Her skirt again inching up to expose the soft flesh of her upper thigh.

"Here." Walking over she straddled his frame on the bed and wrapped a necklace around his neck. Turning over the pendant he saw a random assortment of numbers and letters etched into the back of the soft gold.

"It's the Vin Number to the Skylark." She smiled a slight pink growing on her cheeks. The Buick's backseat held so many of their memories. Her first car, her first kiss, their first kiss, the first time they had tasted each other, the windows so fogged by their frantic breathing the moonlight no longer could break through to bring a glow to their slick bodies as they moved together. She remembered her hushed words as he lay between her thighs.

"I don't want a boyfriend." She had barely made out before a moan interrupted her train of thought.

She couldn't see his face through the darkness but somehow she knew that arrogant smirk was there as he responded softly. "And I don't want a girlfriend."

"Well then what are we?" She asked her chest rising and falling rapidly, thankful for the pause of his lips between hers.

"Friends." Again she could hear him smile, breathing deeply against her.

"Just friends?" She questioned.

"Well and this..." His words muffled as his tongue found it's place once again inside.

"Friends." She whispered, her breath catching as she felt him glide expertly over her.

"The Skylark." He ran his finger over the etched code that same wistful smile creeping to is lips before he reached up to kiss her.