“Minha,” he murmured, his hand brushing down her soft skin to her bottom. He lifted her up and moved her more onto his lap.
Lois:
he is bringing me closer.
“Huh?” Lois mumbled, her voice hoarse.
Lois: Less talking, more action.
“Minha. It’s Portuguese for ‘mine’,” Clark explained.
She grinned. “Portuguese, too. I doubt you’ll ever stop impressing me with that tongue of yours.” She pulled him in for a kiss.
She really is going for double entendres.
Lois: I just love him touching me.
He showed her what else he could do with that tongue.
Lois:
I like this a lot more.
Lois moaned. “Minha. I like it. I want you to call me that, because that’s what I am, yours, forever yours.”
I just hope he does not chicken out this time, like at the Metro Club.
he whispered, “Lois, I’m…”
The question we will never know is even if he said the words right now, would she believe them?
“Minha. Call me minha, Chuck,” she said, turning to lie down on the couch and bringing him to cover her.
Lois seems to not want to be on top.
“Minha, I’m…” Clark cleared his throat as the word caught there. “I am…”
Will he say it?
A knock on his front door interrupted him. He glanced up and scooted down his glasses to see who it was. H.G. Wells stood on the other side.
crazy wells, interrupting the reveal.
