Is it normal for the heart to beat as hard as mine is right now? I swear, it feels like my chest is visibly moving with each pound.
Beck clears his throat as if he had to break some kind of trance before he says, “Top shelf in my bathroom.”
“Okay, I’ll be right back.”
I walk as quickly as I can to the bathroom and find the kit, grab a thicker hand towel just in case, and return to the kitchen.
Beck hasn’t moved.
“Maybe you should sit down,” I say. I place a hand on his back to move him toward the table.
Really, Calla, he cut his hand. He doesn’t need you touching him and helping him to a table.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” he asks as I open the kit.
“Nope. But clearly neither did you,” I snap back quickly.
I dampen the towel, cleaning up the cut before grabbing some gauze and a large Band-Aid.
“I don’t think it needs stitches.”
“Neither do I,” he agrees and then laughs. “Of all the things I thought would be the first thing we agree on, it wasn’t a steak knife cut on my hand.”
I smile. “Well, yes, there are many other things you could have done to gain my attention to have a simple conversion, but this worked well for you.”
“Oh, you think I did this on purpose?”
“I mean, you’ve cut food before, and it wasn’t a problem. I think you wanted to end the silent treatment, and this was a sure way to do it.”
“Okay, okay, and what was your way?” He tugs at the hem of my shirt, his fingers brushing daringly close to my panties, causing my fingers to tremble as I finish up his hand. “Tease me till I changed my mind?”
I bite my lip. “Maybe.”
“Mm, and what was your plan if the teasing went too far?”
The same hand that had tugged my shirt moments ago grazes the back of my thigh, moving down, up, barely touching my butt cheeks before he does it again.
I close my eyes and take a breath. I can’t think clearly for a response right now. His touch easily awakens something inside me, and I find myself desperate for him to keep going.
“How far?” I manage to say. “I… didn’t… think…”
“Of course you didn’t.” He leans forward. “What are you thinking now?”
What the hell? How can he think and say full sentences all while I’m trying not to combust right here, showing him how long it’s been since a man made me feel as crazy as he is right now. Making me think that for one night I could forget the past, all the games, all the problems between us and just let myself be here in the moment. Taking whatever he wants to give me.
“I’m not thinking,” I finally answer.
“Good.”
With the bandaged hand, he touches my hip ever so gently, until I’m standing directly in front of him. Then, just as swiftly, he nudges my legs apart and pulls me into his lap.
I gasp, in a good way, and I definitely do not resist.
“Still not thinking?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Open your eyes, Calla,” he says, his free hand moving to cup my cheek.
