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Nawat and Aly's relationship, on the other hand, might. I had read the follow-up story about their triplets, and I really enjoyed it. I had not thought before how much it would matter that he was really a crow taking care of nestlings before I had read Tamora Pierce's book. It was a good look at the thought of children who were different. My favorite Viola Rivard story was a discussion of human Mila's feelings towards her puppy-daughter. The idea that a parent would not love his or her child because something was wrong was always explored, and I knew that in the end, no matter what obstacles or difficulties a parent faced, the love of a parent for a baby would overcome whatever stood in their way.
I stole a glance at Jimmy in the armchair close to the fire. His legs were out straight in front of him, and a lock of hair had fallen on his forehead. It was endearing. I felt warm. Maybe it was the fire.
"I can feel you looking at me," he said without looking up from his book.
Pictures
Amelia
"Take a picture. It will last longer."
I smiled at him. "No. I'm fine. I can go upstairs if you want." I closed my book, and I stood up, stretching a little. I was stiff from staying in one position the whole time.
"No, it's fine. I like having the company. Since my mom left, there haven't been too many people in this house." He sighed. "She used to throw parties with the neighbors. People used to come over from Madison to hang out all the time. This was a very different home when my dad was alive." He blew away the lock of hair that was on his forehead. "I am just not as social as they are. Were."
I put my hand on his knee. He stared at it. "I understand. I thought that I was so social before I came here, but I think that there is a restful quality to being here. It's as if I can just be myself here. When you are alone with yourself...or just one other person...you can be the person who you are in your heart, instead of what other people expect."
He looked into my eyes, bright blue eyes meeting warm brown ones. Instead of saying anything, he stood up and pulled my close. He kissed me softly on the mouth, then he pulled back and looked at my face.
"Okay?"
I blinked a few times, totally dazed. "Oh." I felt like a sun had exploded inside of my mind. Wow. That kiss was soft and tender, but it blew my mind.
"I'm sorry. I know we aren't like that..."
He went back to his armchair. His worry was cute. He had two little furrows between his brows. He was running a hand through his hair.
I walked over to the armchair and straddled his lap. "I liked it." I kissed him full on the mouth. His eyes were closed now.
Then they opened, and they hit me with the force of a very intense blue spotlight. I felt like I was in a dark room, center stage, with all eyes on me.
His arms came around me. They felt like steel bands around my soft body. He took my open mouth in a searing hot kiss. He forced my lips open with his tongue, and I opened readily for him. I could feel a bulge growing where his crotch and mine met.
; His hand went to my ass, and he squeezed me tightly. I gasped a little bit into his mouth, and it just spurred him on for more. His other hand went to my hair, and my mouth was glued to his, sealed so that there was no room between our lips.
I gave as good as I got. I put my clever tongue in his mouth, too. I changed the angle by tilting my head a little more to the side. My lower body was melting into him. I was quickly becoming boneless in his arms, and we'd been kissing for just a little while. I raised my hips a little bit, and I slid down his rapidly hardening shaft, mimicking what I wanted, what we both needed.
"Stop."
Job
Amelia
I leaned back and blinked at him. "What?"
"I don't...I don't do stuff like this. I go a lot slower than this." He gestured with his hands at his body and mine. "I'm sorry. I was into it, but I just don't....I don't do this."
I got off of his firm thighs and stood up. I would not let him see me cry, even if I felt completely rejected. "Okay."
"It's not you. You're really hot. It's just me. I'm sorry."
"That's okay." My voice was colder than the polar vortex. "It's fine. I am going upstairs now." I picked up my novel.
I walked upstairs, fuming. I was surprised that there wasn't literal steam coming out of my ears. How could he? He started it. He kissed me. I just followed his lead, and he put the kibosh on it before we even really got started. We were kissing, just kissing. How dare he reject me? There were dozens of men in DC who would love to date me, who I could call and have the instant that I wanted them.
Tears dripped down my cheeks, and I put my book on my nightstand. I flopped down on my stomach and cried. I never got rejected, so maybe that was why it hurt so much. I always got what I wanted.
