Would it be bad if she punched the air in victory?
“Could I use your bathroom?” she asked.
Dean frowned. “You know, I’m never going to understand you as a person. One second you’re talking about a kiss and the next you want to use the bathroom. Sure, go ahead. I’ll be waiting right here for us to have this conversation.”
Laura turned and went to the bathroom on the second floor. She went straight to the mirror and looked at her reflection. “You’ve got to do this tonight. If you leave here you won’t get it done,” she talked to her reflection and began removing each item of clothing.
She looked away from her reflection. Looking at her body would ruin her courage. Every woman throughout history took a stand and went after what they wanted. She was no different. The twenty-year age gap meant nothing to her. She loved Dean and wanted to be with him. She wanted to give him her virginity. She placed a hand to her stomach and took great gulps of air. This was the most difficult thing she’d ever done, offering herself to the man she loved.
On the back of the door was a dressing gown. She grabbed it and wrapped herself in it. Opening the door she went to the top of the stairs.
Dean sat on the bottom step and when he heard her he got up and faced her. She moved down the steps and tried to ignore his frown. When she was far enough down to where he wouldn’t be able to stop her, she removed the gown and stood before him as naked as the day she was born.
The tingling in her stomach increasing as she moved down the last few steps to stop right in front of him. “Hello Dean,” she whispered.
* * * *
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
She stood in front of him so beautiful and curvy he could mistake her for someone older than eighteen. For the past three months he’d done nothing other than have wonderful conversations and dinners discussing everything with her.
“I don’t know,” she answered honestly.
Dean rubbed his eyes and wondered if the vision of her would disappear. “You can’t be doing this.”
“Oh. I understand,” she said soft
ly.
Shit. He heard the wobble in her voice and his heart constricted in his chest. He thought he knew what that noise meant and he didn’t like it. He knew Laura had an issue with her body and her overall image.
“Look. Don’t be like that,” he told her. She was turning, ready to go back up the stairs. The dressing gown was once again covering her luscious body.
“Laura, sweetie, please don’t do this. Don’t get upset,” he begged.
“I’m fine,” she responded.
He heard the sob in her voice and he moaned as he grabbed hold of her arm to stop her from walking any further up the stairs. He turned her to face him and he saw the tears running down her face. Fuck. He hated himself for making her cry. He cupped her cheek and his thumb rubbed away a tear.
“You’re not fine. Tell me what’s wrong,” he whispered.
She rubbed her nose, the gesture so young and cute.
“I understand. You can’t stomach the sight of me. I mean, I’m so fucking disgusting. I really need to lose weight and go on a goddamn diet or something.”
He couldn’t believe the words he was hearing. Laura was perfect just the way she was.
“I don’t want to hear you say those words,” he demanded harshly.
“You’d like Rachel," she argued. "She’s skinny and blond and everyone loves her.” He cupped her cheek and rubbed the tears away from her deep brown eyes. God, he loved her eyes. They were so expressive and wide. They absorbed everything like a sponge. He’d never heard her talk about someone called Rachel.
“I’ve never seen Rachel and from the way you describe her, I know I wouldn’t be interested.” He stopped her from speaking with a finger over her lips.
“But why?” she asked.
Dean didn’t answer straight away. His other hand that had been holding her arm came up and pulled strands of her hair out of the way. Her skin felt soft beneath his knuckles. He could touch her for hours.
“I’m twenty years older than you.” He tried to think of an excuse, anything to keep her at arms distance.