Thirty-two

Fingers run through my hair, my toes curl and a soft pop resounds in the air. I am reluctant to move with El’s fingers weaving in and out of my tresses. She stops, my eyes jerk open and my head twists upwards.

“Don’t stop.” I pout. She bends to peck me, my hands reach up to keep our lips glued but she pulls away.

“In a moment,” she says, raising her tablet, “I have to get this.” The tap sounds made by her fingers hitting the screen keep me company, my cheek presses into her lap and my finger traces the open skin. 

Nothing no one can tell me, this is a slice of heaven. Turning so my head is no longer resting on her legs, I prop myself on my elbows. If I am keeping her here, I have to deal with her working from here. 

“What are you doing?” I try to pry the tab from her but she frowns and I back off. Only one day here and she has turned me into an attention seeking whore. “Elna. I do