“I see. I’ve seen you from the moment you caught me in your arms.” I admitted quietly as if I were ashamed. Why did I feel this way? It was totally stupid.
“Then stop. Just be here with me right now and tomorrow and the day after that,” he demanded strongly.
“You’re pretty smooth, aren’t you?” I whispered.
He winked at me, and I melted into the chair. This was too fast. “Am I? I don’t think that the other people I’ve dated would agree. They weren’t you.” He stood up and walked over to me, and knelt in front of me. His large hands were against my cheeks as he held my head gently between them.
“I’m…” I stuttered.
His face started moving towards mine, and I almost jumped out of my seat. He smirked and chuckled as his lips pressed against mine. I was lost and had no idea where I was, except for this ominous feeling that the only person who could find me and bring me back to reality was kneeling before me. His lips on mine caused a sensation of fire and want in the pit of my stomach like a raging forbidden beast that desired more.
His tongue slid past my lips, and I opened my mouth, and the walls I had tried to build collapsed completely against his assault. His breath became my breath as our hearts found synchronicity in each other. I slumped against him as his strong hands held me in place. Arms like steel – safe and protected in my Alpha’s embrace.
Mine – his.
He had won, and I had given up fighting. But this had to move slowly. It was the only way.
It was time to see if he was right.
Fate was sometimes cruel.
We talked and kissed and talked some more until it was time for me to leave – or I wouldn’t leave. I had to. Slow. We had to take this slow.
“Darren? I’m going to walk home if you don’t mind. I… I want to think about… everything,” I said as he was grabbing his keys.
“Are you sure? I would like to…”
“Yeah. It’s a beautiful night, and you’ve been… I want to take this slow, Darren. If you walk me to my door, I… I think it’s better if I walk home.” He came over and took me in his arms. I tried to stop myself from melting into him. I tried. I failed. His hard chest and massive arms against my own body made a fire rush through me.
His kiss, gentle at first, deepened, and I had to stop myself from jumping into his arms and wrapping my legs around him. When we slowly broke apart, we both felt it. Fire – passion – need. It was sparkling in both of our eyes.
“Slow?” he asked as he took my chin in his hands and stared into my eyes.
“Slow.” I nodded and took a step backward.
It was a chilly night. But I was as warm as if it were summer.
8
DARREN
The three days between our lessons felt like a month to me, usually. But after I finally convinced him to give us a chance – two nights ago felt like an eternity. I wanted to call him – text him – show up at his house with a bottle of rosé – he seemed like the kind of guy who would like rosé – classy and uptight. But I didn’t do it. I gave him space, and that was maybe the hardest thing I have ever done in my entire life.
Slow… How can you take this slow when all I want to do is press his body against mine? He’s scared, and I get it. Shit, I’m a little freaked out too. Once you meet… I mean, when and if fate intervenes and you actually find that one person whose soul calls out to yours, it’s… overpowering. Most people don’t find that person and fall in love the old-fashioned way. It’s a giant world with a shit ton of people in it all over the globe, and finding that fated person is a long shot. My father and mother aren’t fated. Their marriage was arranged by their families. Sure, they met at college, like they say, but it was much more complicated than that. They were placed together because that’s what families with generational wealth do.
Until somebody rebels.
I guess that was always going to be me.
Slow was giving me blue balls.
Sue me – I’m a college kid with a wild libido.
I had to tell someone. So, last night, I called Amber and told her everything. I mean, she already knew most of it, anyway. But she convinced me I had to do the thing I was terrified to do.
I had to call my parents. I chose my mother because she wasn’t nearly as scary as my dad could be. Mom at least pretended to care when she wasn’t busy hosting cocktail parties or serving on the board of the local symphony. Money could get you in anywhere, and after a very sizeable donation, she was asked to be on the board of the NY State Symphony. She seemed to like it more than she did me. Rich people steered arts organizations – they weren’t musicians themselves.
But she was my mother, and I needed to tell her some things.
