Saved By Your Love

20. I Want You

A/N
This chapter contains sexual scenes. Reader discretion is advised.

Sunday 26th July 1987

Sheri's POV

"Was the movie really that boring?" breathed Michael, in between kisses on my lips. He leaned over me while we lay on my bed together.

I bit my lip and straight-up admitted it, "it wasn't as good as this."

It was at least eleven at night, Joy was asleep. It was just the two of us, accompanied by the subtle light of the bedside lamp. As much as I had a blast going out, nothing beat spending close, quality time with Michael at home...in my bed. We were half talking, half getting up to other things. There wasn't anywhere else I wanted to be and nothing else I wanted to do. He was my idea of a good time.

I ran my hands through his curls as he deepened the kiss and positioned his body right on top mine. His tasted me with his tongue and I gave him the access he was after. I gently took his lower lip between my teeth and he smiled. The only thing that made it hard to focus on him was the typical heat of a summer night—so hot even Satan was sweating.

I butted in, "you mind if I get changed into something a little more comfortable?"

"No, not at all," he said, and rolled off me.

"Be right back," I enticed, before disappearing into my bathroom.

I returned two minutes later, outta my jeans and into a baby blue slip dress with my curly hair free. I gave Michael the chance to look at me. He didn't say anything, but his thoughts were written on his face; his eyes scanned my body up and down in a heated gaze, followed by a little rise in the corners of his lips. I joined him back on the bed, where we lay on our sides, facing each other.

"You look good," he complimented. I smiled and captured his lips in a kiss. Before I could do it again, he interrupted, "Sheri,"

His face was still so close, so close that his breath danced on my skin.

"Yeah?"

He paused and asked, "can I tell you something?"

I spoke on his lips, "can it wait?"

Suddenly, he became silent as a stone and he bowed his head. Whatever it was must've really been bugging him.

This time, I questioned him, "Michael? What's up?"

He shook his head once as if he wanted me to forget that he even asked and his guard went up. "Nothing. I-It's nothing."

"I don't think it's nothing," I urged.

"No, really," he insisted. "It's okay."

"You got something on your mind, you can tell me."

"I know," he said, leaving it at that. I'll get it outta him later.

It was my turn to interrupt, "well, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

I asked him as if I tore a bandage off a wound.