I'm falling in love with this man, or perhaps it's already too late. Maybe I've already fallen and there is no chance of getting back up again.
"Yes," I mumble with a grin. His answering grin is one I would walk across glass to see again, as he picks me up by my waist and uncharacteristically spins me around the kitchen. I clutch onto his shoulders tightly, laughing along with him like a lovestruck schoolgirl. At last, he sets me down on my feet and his hands cup my cheeks, pulling me in to him and pressing his lips against mine. I melt into him, my hands sliding their way up from his shoulders to his hair, tugging it down in an effort to draw him in even closer.
"Were you nervous?" I ask him when we both come up for air, his hot breath puffing out across my nose.
"Maybe a little," he shrugs with a boyish grin.
"You little softie," I tease, poking softly at the dimple protruding from the left-hand side of his face.
"I can assure you that I am anything but a softie right now," he smirks as he presses himself against my hip, giving me the impression of a slight bulge from within his pants. I shove his shoulder slightly as I let out a half-gasp, half-laugh.
"Dirty old man," I grin up at him as he bounces back from my shove to place his hands on my hips, nodding his head.
"Yes I am, but you're my dirty birthday girl." His eyebrows raise slightly as he smirks once more. Despite his filthy mouth, I find myself giggling again and pulling him closer towards me as I nod my head.