Dax
I'm nineteen again and holding the same woman's hand; instead of climbing up to the hayloft, we're walking into a bedroom. No scratchy hay, no opening to the night sky, yet my heart is beating the same way it did that night. Letting go of Kandace's hand, I pull down the blankets on the partially made bed. As I turn her direction, my mouth goes dry and my breathing stops.
The blue Cubs shirt makes her eyes sparkle as she reaches for the hem and slowly lifts it over her head. Long damp hair cascades over her shoulders. She licks her pink lips.
Scanning downward, I see her sensational curves. Her round breasts lift as her breaths come fast. Downward her stomach is flat and for a second, I imagine seeing her carrying my child. Her hips are perfect. The 'V' at the apex of her thighs is
