Not Another Diva

22 - Double Divas

I've never felt so at home. Even though I'm in the house I grew up in, my family close by, I've never felt this...content. I was always itching to get out, see new places, experience the rest of what the world has to offer. But right now, here on this worn-in couch with Brianna's legs across my lap and watching her recline on the cushions I laid on as a teenager, I couldn't be happier.

I'm watching her out of the corner of my eye, not wanting my blatant stare to be detected. She's absorbed in some cooking show my mom had recommended this morning. Two days hanging out at home has brought out a domestic side of Brianna, I think. All of the sudden she wants to try making dinner with my mom, who is happy to help her learn.

Brianna's gaze is locked on the television, totally wrapped up in whatever the dish is that the host is working on. I'm not paying attention to that at all. All of my focus is on her. The way her hand is casually winding and unwinding a lock of her golden hair. The way her foot is slightly swaying back and forth, brushing against my thigh and causing tingles to shoot through my leg every time she does it. The way her breathing is slow and even, proving that she's totally at ease in her surroundings.

It's that last observation that basically does me in. Seeing her content, peaceful...it's been my entire goal from the moment I said yes to Char's plan. And I can't even begin to wrap my head around the way that makes me feel.

Absentmindedly, I reach down and put my hand on Brianna's leg. It ends up on her ankle and my thumb swipes a smooth trail across her fuzzy sock. I can't help but smile when my peripheral vision catches Brianna's eyes flutter at the contact.

"That tickles," she says. It's maybe the first thing she's said in over an hour. Her eyes are on me now, rather than the screen.

"Does it?" I smirk and brush her ankle again.

Brianna tries to pull her leg away but I've got a grip on her foot, so she can't. "Gotcha."

Her gaze narrows, a new determination is written all over her face. "Oh, it's on." Her voice is laced with the promise of retaliation.

I swallow in anticipation. I'm not scared of her, more like scared of how whatever she has planned is going to affect me. Here. In my mom's house. With the woman just a few feet away in the kitchen.

Brianna is still, motionless. My eyebrows rise as I take her in. She looks like a tiger assessing its prey. Me.

And then she's suddenly out of my grip.

"Whoa!" I say as her foot twists away, her body flips around and then she's on top of me. My arms are pinned against the couch and she's straddling my lap.

"Who's got who, now?" she whispers in my ear.

"That tickles," I say, my voice breathless. "Those are some moves you've got."

"I had a great teacher." The twinkle in her eyes is priceless.

Brianna's thumb is now rubbing my wrist. Her hold is no where near strong enough to keep me here. But there's no way I'm attempting to get away from her. I look up at her and our eyes lock. Her gaze says the same thing my mind is screaming. I wish we were alone.

Screw it. I need to kiss her. Right now.

Something about the way I'm looking at her, full of hunger and need, must cause her to loosen her hold on my wrists because suddenly my hands are cupping her face and pulling her lips down to mine. I seem to devour her, prey taking on predator. She allows this small show of dominance for a minute before turning the tables once again.

Brianna pulls away. Before I even have the chance to trail after her, she's pushed me to the side, twisting my shoulders so that now I'm laying back on the couch while she still maintains control. Then it's Brianna who leans down, capturing my lips in a greedy display. My hands are threaded into her hair, which is also spread around us, cocooning us into privacy.