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For the love of Christ I am getting tired of this.
I smiled over at him, biding my time.
We pulled up in front of the house several minutes later. It was certainly not the mansion we had lived in while in Indianapolis, that was for sure. Mom loved it though. It was what she had dreamt of she told me, complete with a white picket fence around the front.
It was a large cape cod with a full basement. It had a nice size yard, a bit less than an acre. It was just outside of the city limits. We could see our neighbors down the road on both sides.
My grandparents’ car was pulled up in the driveway. It was not quite noon. Even they didn’t treat me as if I still needed a curfew.
Taz put his truck into park and looked over at me.
“Would you like for me to go in and explain to your grandparents what happened last night; that you were safe with me? I hadn’t thought about calling them earlier. I probably should have.”
“I don’t think so,” I snapped, unbuckling my seat belt, and opening the door to the truck. “Jesus Christ, Taz, I’m not a freaking child.”
I jumped down from the cab of his truck.
It would have been a great exit had the strap of my purse not gotten caught around the gear shifter on the center console.
Crap!
“Hold up,” he said, smirking.
He lifted my purse strap up and over the shifter and picked it up, getting out of the truck to come around to my side and hand it to me.
I grabbed it from him, turning to head up to the house.
“Thanks for the lift,” I called back to him.
“Whoa, wait a minute,” he said, calling after me.
I felt his hand on my shoulder, gently pulling me back so that I would stop.
“Lindsey, what the hell? I didn’t mean to insult you, sweetheart. I know you’re not a child. I just wasn’t sure if you would catch shit from your grandparents. You know how old people can be.”
“Unfortunately, I’m finding out,” I said with a smirk of my own. “I’m almost twenty-one, Taz. When my mother was twenty-one, she was raising a four-year-old. Would you have treated her like that?”
“So, what’s your point?”
I actually had no clue as to what the point of that was. I just knew that he needed to put it into perspective. I may not be the mother of a four-year-old, but by God, I wasn’t a child either.
“I guess I would just prefer that you recognize that I am a woman,” I replied simply. “I appreciate everything you did for me, Taz. I know that I should have behaved more maturely at the reception.”
He was studying me now with those gorgeous, green bedroom eyes of his.
His lash line was so dark his eyes looked as if they had mascara on them. I knew that they didn’t. He simply had eyelashes that any woman would die for; eyelashes undeserving of a man.
I wasn’t sure what prompted me to do what I did next. I didn’t stop to think about it, or to debate it before I did it.
I walked closer to him, standing on my tip toes. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling his head down towards my face.
My lips found his and I kissed him. I prayed he wouldn’t pull back. He didn’t pull back. He stood there for a moment statuesque-like.
I worked harder. I might still be a virgin, but by God, I had learned some things along the way. Kissing was one of them. I had been told by a few guys that I was a great kisser. We would see.
I moved my lips on his, my tongue lightly traced his bottom one.
His lips started responding to mine, first slowly, then very sensually. I parted my lips and his tongue found mine. He pulled me in closer now, planting his fingers into my short, spiky hair.
