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It was like we were old friends.
And with good wine swirling around in my head, making my rushing thoughts head in a nicer direction than they usually did, I started to think maybe it could be a regular thing. Maybe we could be actual friends. Maybe we could be more...
"Dusty..." Ryan's voice called, a low, smooth rumble.
My head jerked in his direction a second after I realized I had been staring at the rolling credits on the TV. His wine glass was gone and I wasn't sure when he discarded it. But his hand reached for my empty one and placed it on my coffee table beside his.
"Yeah?" I asked when his eyes went to mine again, looking a little more heavy-lidded than they had a moment ago, though I for some reason wrongly attributed that to the wine and his long day with his family.
Because, in my small little world, attraction was never a factor.
"Say no," he said oddly, turning on the cushion so he was facing me which forced my leg to go up over his slightly.
"Say no to what?" I asked, my voice a choked sound.
"To me."
I was a master at no.
I had needed to say it so many times as the anxiety slowly but surely claimed my life that it stopped even being hard to do.
But no to him?
I wasn't sure I could say that.
Even though I had no idea what he even wanted me to say no to.
I had a gut feeling, though, that I was about to find out.
"I, um, I can't," I admitted, saying it mostly to his chest because his gaze was proving too intense to hold for so long.
"Thank fuck," he said, low, barely audible.
The next thing I knew, his fingers whispered down my jaw and snagged my chin, gently forcing it upward.
It was right about then that I finally understood his intention.
It might have been a hell of a long time, but I'd been kissed enough in my life to know that look when I saw it.
He was going to kiss me.
Also, who the ever loving hell would ever say no to that?
Even me, Dusty Rose Sunshine goddamn McRae, freak-extraordinaire couldn't do such a thing.
His eyes watched mine for a long second looking for, I guessed, second thoughts. And I should have had them. I barely knew the man. I never let anyone touch me anymore. But somehow, none of that mattered to me.
I wanted it more than I wanted to be able to be normal again, to be able to breathe in public again, to not break out into a sweat at the idea of making a phone call.
My eyes dipped to his lips, wondering for a spare second how he kissed- hard and ruthless as his hands claimed he could be or sweet and passionate as his words seemed.
I didn't have to wonder for long though.
His fingers slid out, moving to frame one side of my face as he moved forward, eyes watching mine until I couldn't take it anymore and mine fluttered closed.
My belly was flip-flopping and my heart was pounding and I couldn't draw a proper breath.
But it didn't matter.
Because the next second, his lips pressed down on mine. Tentative, but sure at the same time. Like he was gauging my reaction, but didn't have any hesitance of his own.
And I... melted.
His head slanted and his lips pressed harder into mine and my arms moved out and up, closing around the back of his neck and pulling him toward me. His free hand left my thigh and moved around my lower back, putting firm pressure there, hard enough to pull me toward him until I did the absolute unthinkable. I climbed onto his lap and he held me tightly to him as his tongue traced the seam of my lips until they opened for him and he moved inside, lavishing over me until I let out a low whimper against his lips.
My legs tightened around his sides, trying to pull him closer though it wasn't possible, begging for things I hadn't let myself want in longer than I cared to admit to even myself.
My breasts swelled; my nipples tightened against the soft fabric of my shirt; my panties started sticking to my skin with desire.
His body twisted as his hand slid from my jaw and up into my hair, sliding in and curling, but not pulling, as he sat back against the couch, taking me fully onto his lap.
The hand that wasn't in my hair moved to the side of my hip and sank in, an impossible to ignore firm pressure. My hips sank down and I felt his hardness press against my cleft, making me let out a surprised gasp as I pulled back, my eyes opening.
His opened more slowly, heavy, as his hand loosened in my hair.
