“No, as long as you don’t mind that nothing’s going to happen tonight.”
“What do you mean?” I stop walking, as does she and we both stare at each other. Why is she throwing up a roadblock so soon? “Did I do something to uh, make you mad?”
She shakes her head. Doesn’t say a word.
“I don’t ever want to push you into doing something you—don’t want.” I need to be careful. I’m treading on unfamiliar ground. I’ve never really been with a girl who doesn’t want to do, ahem, anything with me. And when I say anything, I mean sex. Or activities of a sexual nature. Since I prefer to spend time with girls who want the same thing I do, you know? A casual hookup. A quick blowjob. A few hours involving consensual sex with a hot girl who has zero expectations.
This is new to me, what I’m doing with Jade. She’s a hot girl who most likely has expectations. A girl who doesn’t want anything to do with me most of the time yet I’ve somehow worn her down. Who’s now telling me that she wants to spend time with me tonight but nothing’s going to happen.
I’m almost tempted to tell her, “I don’t understand.”
Because I sort of don’t.
“I’m glad you said that,” she’s saying, knocking me from my thoughts. "I’ve heard stories, you know.”
“What, that I push girls into doing something they don’t want?” I shake my head, incredulous. Even a little mad. “That’s so not the case. They’re all willing.”
“And you’re saying I’m not?”
“No, you’re saying you’re not.” I start walking toward my car again and she follows along beside me. She seems irrationally angry. “I’m trying to respect your wishes.”
“I know. You’re such a gentleman,” she mutters, her mouth twisted into a grimace.
We’re finally at my car when I turn to look at her. “Are you okay? Be honest.”
She rests her hands on her hips. “Why do you ask?” The evil eye is strong in this one. She’s giving me a look right now that could slay just about anyone dead. I’m standing my ground though. This isn’t just about me. Something else is annoying her. She’s acting awfully moody. Like maybe she’s…
Realization dawns and everything clicks into place. I have older sisters. Granted, it’s been a while since we all lived under the same roof, but I should’ve recognized the signs.
I have a feeling it must be Jade’s time of the month.
Not that I’ve ever dealt with that sort of thing with a girl I’m seeing. Living with the rage monsters known as my sisters was like surviving a war once a month because for some freakish reason, they’d be on the rag at the same damn time. When it first started I’d been too young to know what was going on and their moodiness had scared the shit out of me. And pissed me off. As I grew older though, I figured it out. Started to recognize the signs. It’s usually best to ignore a woman when she’s like this.
At least, that had been my past motto. But I’m interested in this girl. I need to be able to handle all of her moods. Is this some sort of test? Is God upstairs laughing at me, throwing me one obstacle after another in the hopes that I’d fail?
I’m not going to fail. Hell no. I know what I need to do. Sweet talk her. Treat her right. Maybe give her a massage. Definitely offer up some chocolate. That shit is like a cure all.
She’s glaring at me, waiting for me to answer her no-win question and I offer her a smile. “No reason. Never mind.” Best not to poke the dragon. I decide to change tactics. “Are you hungry?”
“I seriously need some caffeine.” She tucks a few vivid strands of hair behind her ears, sinks her teeth into her lower lip. I withhold my groan that wants to escape because damn it, she’s fucking sexy. Like at the most inopportune moments too. “I’m, um…I’m sorry I got all weird just then.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I hit the button on my keyless remote and unlock the car. Yeah, I can tell this could be a long night or a freaking test. More like a little bit of both. If I can pass this, I’m in. And she’s in. We’re in this together. “Come on. Let’s go get you caffeinated.”
* * *
Jade
* * *
He’s being so sweet he’s melting all the resistance within me. I’d been chock full of resistance too, from the very start when he sauntered over looking good enough to—lick. Not wearing a shirt, all those muscles on blatant display, that smile he seemed to flash just for me. That smoldering look in his eyes that again, seemed just for…
Me.
I still don’t get it. Somehow, with me looking terrible and bloated and acting like a PMS’ing crazy woman, he still wants to be around me. Took me to Starbucks and bought me a venti iced white chocolate mocha, nonfat, no whip, thank you very much. He presented it to me like a prize, an endearing little smile curling his perfect, sexy lips and I took it gratefully.
The ultimate though, is he brought me back to his place, searched through his freezer and found a giant tub of rocky road ice cream. He then proceeded to make me a bowl of it so now I’m stuffing my face with ice cream while sitting at the kitchen counter, sipping the last of my white chocolate mocha.
The combination of my favorite caffeinated drink and chocolate ice cream with those frozen little marshmallows inside it—yes, marshmallows are the best thing ever, I hope you realize this—I’m in heaven. Even cramps can’t get me down.
Not that I’m having them anymore. Though if I don’t watch it I’m going to give myself a stomachache. In fact, I’m sort of disgusting, eating ice cream and drinking Starbucks. I gaze down at the near empty bowl, irritated with myself.
“You need to stop licking that spoon.” Shep’s suddenly in front of me, his expression pained, his mouth thin.
I drop the spoon into the bowl, startled by his reappearance. He’d left the kitchen right after giving me the ice cream and I’m embarrassed to admit I sort of forgot about him, I’d been in such a chocolate/caffeine-induced haze. “Why?” I ask warily.
He leans across the counter, his dark, smoldering gaze never leaving mine. “I keep seeing your tongue.”
Everything inside me goes warm and liquid. I grip the edge of the granite countertop, praying I don’t slip off the barstool like an idiot. “You don’t like seeing my tongue?” My voice is small, my chest light and full of something…unfamiliar. This flirtatious game we’ve been playing has been mostly one sided. I always feel like he’s the one with the power.
But right now, at this very instant, I feel like I’m the powerful one—and I like it.
“I fucking love seeing your tongue. But considering the rules you laid out for us, it’s nothing but a tease.” He leans even further across the counter, his hands drawing closer, like he’s desperate to touch me.
“What rules?” I lean away from him, needing the distance. He’s pure temptation. The way he looks, how he smells. I think he changed clothes. In fact, he looks like he just came out of the shower. His hair is damp and he smells fresh and clean.
Fresh and clean and so freaking delicious it’s taking everything within me not to just leap across the counter and grab him.
“You established right from the start that nothing’s going to happen between the two of us tonight,” he reminds me.
Oh. Right. Nothing can happen. I stare at his lips, study them really. They’re perfectly formed. His lower lip is full and has the slightest dent in it. A dent I’d like to trace with my tongue...
Shit.
His upper lip is thinner but not by much, and at this very moment, his mouth is formed into this sexy pout that’s not really a pout at all but I don’t know how else to describe it. All I know is I like it. Memories fly at me, one after another. When he kissed me against the door. On his bed. In his car. His taste. The way he touched me, the things he said…
I’m regretting what I said to him. Rules were made to be broken, right?
Right?
“I'm having second thoughts,” I murmur, my gaze still locked on his mouth.
He raises h
is brows. “About what?”
“About those rules I established. Though really…they can’t be helped.” I pause, feeling awkward. How do I broach the subject of my period? I’m thinking he must be a mind reader. Buying me coffee, giving me a giant bowl of chocolate ice cream, then staying away for a few minutes while I devoured it all…he must know. Or have a suspicion.
“I know what you’re referring to. And…I get it.” His voice is low, so incredibly deep that I can feel it vibrating within me.
Oh God, I really love his voice, and the fact that he’s making this so easy on me. I feel like such a dork and I seriously don’t get what he sees in me. What he wants from me.
But I’m running with this. I’m sick of fighting it. He’s persistent and I’m giving in. As much as I can, due to the circumstances.
“You get it?” I ask. More like squeak.
He nods. “Yeah.”
Hope lights a tiny flame deep within me. This guy blows my mind. He’s nothing like what I thought he’d be. “Okay. So maybe we could just…make out instead.”
His eyebrows go up even further. “Make out?”
I nod, liking the spark in his gaze. “You know, kiss. Where it leads to nothing else but…kissing. For hours.” My favorite thing in the whole wide world, where there are no expectations beyond kissing.
“You want to kiss me for hours.” He appears perplexed, which is a good look for him, no doubt, but still. He also seems surprised that I’d suggest such a thing.
“Sure.” I’m starting to feel like maybe this wasn’t a good suggestion. He’s staring at me like I’m crazy. I’m starting to feel a little crazy and I blame him. He could have any girl he wants. Could be with any girl he chooses and she’d drop her panties for him so quickly his head would spin.
And then he’d get right down to business. He’s a guy who doesn’t waste time. Who knows exactly what to do when he has a willing female in front of him. But I’m not a willing female. I’m willing to take it only so far and that’s probably a disappointment.
So the fact that pitiful little me is suggesting to him we make out for the night is really just…extremely lame. He’s going to turn me down. He should turn me down, and go to a bar or a party and pick up on some hot drunk chick who’d do whatever he wanted.
That’s the easy route. I’m the difficult route. The route not worth taking. I stiffen my shoulders, prepare for the blow that I know is coming and when I catch a glimpse of his perfect lips parting, I close my eyes and wait.
“If we’re going to make out.” He pauses and I crack open my eyes. “For hours.” A shiver runs through me at the pointed look he sends me. “Then I need to do something first.”
I frown, blinking up at him. “Like what?”
He rounds the kitchen counter so he’s standing beside me, towering over me really. He’s so tall. And broad. I want to climb him like a mountain. I have climbed him like a mountain and had a great time doing it too. “Stand up,” he commands quietly.
Without protest I do as he says, surprised at myself. Usually I’d offer a flippant remark. Maybe tell him to go fuck himself. But I’m too curious to see what he wants from me. Too excited at the prospect that in mere minutes, I’ll be in his arms, kissing him.
Shep steps closer and settles his hands at my waist. His head is bent, as if he’s staring down the length of my body and I want to shrink into myself. Disappear. Do I meet his approval? Not that I need it but I want him to be attracted to me. I want him to find me attractive.
Or is he actually seeing me—the real me—for the first time and realizing that maybe he doesn’t like me after all? With the old T-shirt and leggings, my chipped nail polish and ratty flip flops, I can’t hardly blame him. I’m sure the girls he’s normally drawn to are perfectly put together. Beautiful and smart and flawless.
I know deep down inside I’m none of those things.
My heart is racing and I exhale on a shuddery breath, my stomach clenching with nerves. What does he want from me? What will he say? Oh my God, what is he doing…?
He lifts me up as if I weigh nothing and settles me on the edge of the counter, kicking away the barstool I was sitting on only moments before. When he steps forward, I have no choice but to spread my legs so he’s standing in between them. I keep my head bent though I can see him as he reaches out and grabs hold of the end of my braid.
And slowly pulls the band off, setting it on the counter.
“I don’t know what I like most about you,” he says conversationally as he methodically begins to undo my braid. His fingers sift through my hair, gently tugging and pulling, and it feels so good that my eyelids waver. Unable to help myself, I lean into him. “Your hair, your freckles or that fucking mouth of yours.”
I say nothing. The ability to speak has left me completely. The way he’s touching me, the words he’s saying…I’m undone. No other guy has ever had the ability to make me feel the way Shep does with only a few choice words and seemingly innocent touches.
No one.
My hair falls in heavy waves around my face, past my shoulders and then he’s smoothing it out, untangling it with his fingers and I want to die from bliss. Nothing feels better than someone playing with my hair.
And when that someone is Shep? It’s like pleasure overload. If I were a cat, I’d be purring and rubbing against him. Maybe even writhing around on my back, begging for more.
“I don’t like it when you pull your hair back or put it up,” he says, his voice this low, velvety whisper that washes over me, leaving goose bumps in its wake. “It shouldn’t be restrained. I like seeing it wild.”
He cups my cheeks with his hands and tilts my face up so I have no choice but to look at him. He studies me with those mysterious eyes, his expression serious, all traces of Shep the joker, Shep the charmer, gone. “I want to count your freckles.”
I’m frowning again. Is he for real? “That’ll take all day.”
His smile is faint, just a curve of lips, nothing else. “That’s the plan. You have so many. One in particular drives me crazy.”
I suck in a deep breath when he leans in close and presses his lips to the farthest left corner of my mouth. “This one on your lip,” he whispers, kissing me again at the same exact spot. His lips are so soft it’s like I can barely feel them touching mine. “Right there.”
Never in my life have I loved my freckles more. “I hated them when I was a kid.”
“I love them,” he says without hesitation. “And I love this mouth of yours too.” Another kiss. Tentative. Sweet. He’s saying the word love so casually and I don’t know what to make of that. “For all the sarcastic things you say.” He shifts, his mouth covering mine fully now, and his lips cling. “For the way you taste.” He draws my lower lip between his and sucks gently, making me whimper. I think he already knows how much I like that. “I fucking dream about these lips, Jade.”
“Y-you do?” I close my eyes when he kisses me deeper, his tongue darting against mine, retreating like a tease. Returning like a promise.
He pulls away from my mouth and I open my eyes to find him studying me, his gaze glittering. “Yeah.” His voice is more whisper than words—deep and dark and pulling me in, pulling me closer. I settle my hands at his sides, gathering the fabric of his T-shirt between my fingers. I’m fearful that if I don’t hold on, I might slip right off the counter. “More than once I’ve dreamed that you’re…I shouldn’t say it.”
People who do that sort of thing make me insane. I grip his T-shirt harder, tighter. “Tell me.”
He shakes his head, his thumbs streaking across my cheeks. “You’ll get mad.”
I can only imagine what he’s about to say. “Shep…”
His smile fades. “You never say my name enough.”
“Tell me what you dream about and I’ll say it so much you’ll want me to shut up.”
He laughs. God, I love his laugh. “You have to promise you won’t get mad.”
“I won’t get mad,” I
immediately say.
“Promise.” He gives my face a gentle shake. “And say my name again.”
“I promise. Shep,” I whisper, tingles sweeping over my skin when he studies my mouth intently before returning his gaze to mine.
He exhales loudly and presses his lips together. “You’re going to hate this.”
“I probably won’t.” I’m sure I will, but I must know. I have to know what I do to him in his dreams.
“Oh, you probably will.” Another exhale before he tilts my head up as he leans his down. Our mouths are so close I can feel his warm breath waft across my face and I want more. It doesn’t matter that he’s about to say something incredibly offensive. More like it’ll just turn me on, I’m sure. Maybe there’s something to what Kelli said, about being hornier when you’re on your period. I’m starting to firmly believe it. I’m on fire for Shep and I’ve never felt this way about a guy ever. “I’ve dreamed of you on your knees in front of me.”
My lips part on the softest gasp at his words and I swear his eyes go even darker. “Go on,” I whisper.
Shep doesn’t even hesitate. “And you’re giving me the most unforgettable blowjob of my life.” He closes his eyes and swallows hard. “And I warn you to stop, that I’m going to come in your mouth but you don’t stop.”
I can see it. Oh God, I can actually see this happening and I have never been a fan of giving blowjobs. But with Shep…I think I’d get off on him getting off.
My cheeks warm at the mere thought.
“Wh-what happens next?” I clear my throat, my eyes fluttering closed when he touches his mouth to mine in the barest kiss.
“You keep going,” he murmurs against my lips. “And I can’t stop watching you. Your hair is…everywhere. And your face is flushed and those pretty eyes of yours are wide as you stare up at me.” He releases his hold on my cheeks and nuzzles my face with his, his mouth at my ear when he whispers, “You lick the tip of my cock with your tongue, then wrap those fucking sexy lips around just the head and that’s it. I’m coming. And you don’t move, you don’t pull away. You just take it, swallow every bit of me and then…” His words trail off and all I can hear is his accelerated breathing and mine. I want more. I need to hear what happens next.
Keep This Promise Page 36