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When I squirm to break free, he places the laptop down and grabs my other wrist. “Rule number one of hand-to-hand combat: never fight above your weight class.” His voice is low, and guttural, and dripping in sexual undertones.
I stop struggling because, let’s face it, I don’t want to break loose. I want him to pull me closer and kiss me like his life depends on it.
Shane’s gaze is molten and focused on the beauty mark at the edge of my mouth. I can practically feel his eyes on me and instinctively lick my lips. Other than in the stall, I’ve never been this close to him. Face to face. Close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off of him and his warm, minty breath on my skin.
Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, I silently beg.
I can’t take the anticipation anymore, my skin flashing hot and cold every few seconds. “Who said anything about hand-to-hand combat?”
I lean in just a bit and he does the rest. He drops my wrists and cradles my face in his hands, tilting my head so he can put his lips on mine at just the right angle. So that he can gently slide his tongue into my mouth and push his hips against mine.
I… am… overwhelmed, seeing stars behind my eyelids and feeling fireworks between my legs. Shane kisses like he means it, with his entire body and soul. Like he won’t stop until one of dies of old age.
Never in my tender twenty-nine-years have I ever been kissed like this before. Not by Jaime. Not by anyone. They’re gonna need the jaws of life to separate us. Or a crowbar. It’s going to take heavy-duty force for sure.
The rough brush of his erection pushing against his jeans is no match for the light cotton minidress I’m wearing. I’m close to coming when he suddenly steps away.
Panting heavily, he turns his back to me and runs his hands through his hair. Then he places his hands on his hips and his head drops. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”
From hot flashes to icy cold in seconds. I’ve never felt so cold in my life. And the man who was keeping me warm a second ago may as well be on another continent. A shiver runs up my back. To add insult to injury, I belatedly realize that my jean jacket is in the stolen truck.
“There’s nothing to apologize for… I kissed you. You shouldn’t––”
“I kissed you,” he argues, cutting me off and brooking no argument. “I wanted to kiss you, and I took advantage of the situation.”
Turning, his pointed gaze runs up and down my body methodically. Not with appreciation. Not even with lust. With apathetic scrutiny. Like a claims adjuster at the scene of an accident.
Great. Wonderful.
I smooth my skirt and wipe my mouth with my thumb. I can still taste him. I can still feel him on me. “I’m not a kid, Shane. Don’t treat me like I don’t know what I’m doing.”
He closes his eyes and breathes out tiredly. Then he says, “After you,” and motions with his hand to the exit.
We ride the entire way home in silence.
“I jumped him,” I say, after deliberating whether to tell her for all of a minute.
“Gawdammit, I’m proud of you,” Jess replies. No surprise there. Jump first and think later is Jessica’s motto.
I take a long drag of the bottleneck beer I stole from Darby’s stash in the refrigerator and continue, “I said, ‘what the hell’ and did it. Live in the present moment, right?”
“We could be dead tomorrow for all we know,” Jess grumbles. She’s in a dark place tonight. She had a bad day at work, and I’ve been in hell since Shane decided to destroy my fragile ego which is why we decided to get drunk over the phone. Jess is way ahead of me on that score. “Hit your head skiing like that actress, whatshername, and poof, gone.”
I step out of the tub and place the now-empty beer bottle down. “He hasn’t looked at me since then––bloody coward.”
“How long?”
“An eternity. Two days.”
“Men are the worst,” she grunts. “I hate them. Let’s hate them together.”
“Nah, we love them.”
“That right there, though. We do. We really do. We love men somethin’ fierce.”
“Man, you really are drunk. I’ll never catch up.” Wrapping a towel around my torso, I head for the bedroom and slip on a t-shirt. Shane’s t-shirt. Because I’m petty and will no longer be returning it.
“You got until the end of the month. Then they’re gone. What are you gonna do?”
What is there to do? Nothing. Except move on. After the initial burn wore off, I started to think… maybe it’s not about me? Maybe he’s in love with someone else? Maybe he’s pining for that woman I saw him with?
