Shut Up and Kiss Me

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Shut Up and Kiss Me Page 9

by Madeline Sheehan


  I turned away from him, fighting my blush, and moved to open the freezer. “I have ice cream,” I said, retrieving a pint of chocolate peanut butter.

  * * *

  I rolled over, the bright morning light shining in through the window forcing my eyes open. Feeling Will’s hard body lying beside me, I smiled happily and draped an arm across his stomach.

  We had come to bed around four in the morning, full of ice cream and exhausted to the point where we hadn’t had to worry about keeping our hands off each other. Still, as I continued watching him sleep, my smile grew and grew, a welcome feeling of happiness settling into the pit of my stomach. I barely knew him, yet I felt like I knew him more than most.

  “Nothing better than waking up to a beautiful woman staring at me,” Will murmured. “Am I still dreaming?”

  “Way too corny.” I laughed.

  Stretching and yawning, he pushed himself upright in bed and slung an arm over my back.

  “You’ll have to forgive me,” he said, grinning, “I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired after spending the night with a woman that I haven’t slept with.”

  When I didn’t answer, he looked down to find me staring up at him, my mouth slightly agape. I knew he’d meant it as a joke, but the thought of how many women he must have slept with left a bad taste in my mouth.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, wincing, “That was a shitty thing to say.”

  “It’s okay,” I said shyly. “We’re both exhausted. And I have to work in an hour.”

  “Can I take you?” he asked.

  I smiled. “I’d like that.”

  * * *

  Standing just around the corner from Mila’s work, her back pressed up against the brick wall of her restaurant and her arms wrapped around his neck, his hands gripping her hips, Will bent his head down for yet another kiss.

  “I’m going to be late,” she murmured against his mouth, just before deepening the kiss.

  Internally he was grinning; she was every bit as into him as he was her, and neither of them could seem to get enough of the other. It was a new feeling for him, and quite a different one—being attracted to a woman for more than just her physical attributes. And after last night, an entire evening spent kissing and talking far into the early hours of the morning and then simply holding her while they slept, he knew he was in trouble. But he couldn’t think of a better woman to be in trouble with.

  She was everything he’d ever wanted: down to earth, easygoing, honest, and naturally beautiful. She was perfect in every way, the sort of woman he’d never thought he’d find—and in his own city, no less.

  Feeling his cell phone begin to vibrate in his pocket, Will doubled the intensity of their kiss, his hands traveling up her to her waist and then higher, his thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts.

  “Your pants…are…vibrating,” she said, breathless from their kisses.

  “I’m just really happy to see you,” he muttered, attempting another kiss.

  Giggling, she turned her head and he quickly changed directions, dipping his own and dragging the tip of his tongue along the hollow of her neck instead. An answering shiver from Mila spurred him on, and he crushed her to him as he softly sucked the silky skin covering her collarbone.

  The phone vibrated again and her giggles turned to laughter, and he couldn’t help but grin. Pulling away from her, he brushed a lock of her wavy hair that had fallen from her bun back behind her ear. “Go,” he said, shaking his head, “before we end up giving those city workers a real show.”

  Mila peeked over his shoulder, to where half a dozen men wearing hardhats were milling around a couple of trucks, and her cheeks flooded with embarrassment.

  “I’m still shocked at how different New York is from home,” she whispered, ducking her head. “There’s so many people here and yet it feels more private than home ever did.”

  “Where in Tennessee did you say you were from?” he asked, frowning as he tried to remember.

  Mila pushed off against the wall with a smile. “A very small, unimportant place that would bore you to tears,” she answered softly. Standing up on her tiptoes, she brushed her lips over his. “I need to go.”

  Reaching out, he grabbed her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. “I have to work tonight,” he said, “but tomorrow I’m free if you are.”

  He didn’t actually have to work that night—he had plenty of people to handle his business for him—but the last thing he wanted was to come on too strong and scare Mila off.

  “I’m free,” she said, suddenly shy again. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Ice cream,” he answered definitively. “But this time it’s my treat.”

  Her answering smile was so genuine that it nearly took his breath away. Standing before him, on the dirty sidewalk in Queens, in her plain black work slacks and matching black button-down, her hair piled messily atop her head and her makeup minimal, she was the equivalent of the sun above them, straining to peek out behind the dusty-colored clouds.

  “Tomorrow then,” he said, leaning forward and giving her a quick kiss on her warm cheek. Still holding tight to her hand, he spun her around and gave her gentle push forward.

  Still smiling, she have him a quick glance over her shoulder before disappearing around the corner.

  Almost immediately his phone began to vibrate again, and with a sigh he pulled it from his pants pocket and grimaced at the caller ID signaling that his mother was calling. Sighing again, he hit “ignore” and then began typing out a text to Richard, giving him his location.

  His phone flashed in response. Richard would be there in ten minutes.

  Shoving it back in his pocket, he started off down the street just as his phone began to vibrate yet again.

  Knowing that ignoring her was futile, that when Elise Townsend wanted to get ahold of anyone she would keep it at until she did, he pulled his phone back out of his pocket and answered it.

  “Mother,” he greeted her.

  “You’re not at home,” she accused.

  His brow lifted in surprise. “You’re in the city?”

  “No,” she snapped, “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all morning, and finally had to call Richard.”

  Traitor, Will thought, rolling his eyes.

  “I’m not a teenager,” he said, feeling suddenly exhausted. “What do you need?”

  “An explanation,” she demanded. “I had the Colliers over for dinner last night, and Michelle was more than happy to inform your father and I that you up and walked out on her in the middle of brunch without so much as a reason why.”

  Locking his jaw, Will attempted a cool and calm demeanor, though he felt anything but. “I’d thought you were done with trying to set me up,” he said. “I’m quite capable of finding my own dates.”

  Her answering “pfft” on the other end of the call only served to aggravate him further. He loved his mother more than anyone else in his family, but there were times when she acted just as bad as the rest of them.

  “You’ve embarrassed us,” she retorted, “and your father is livid.”

  “When is he ever not livid with me?” he shot back.

  Yet Will doubted that his father was livid at all. In order to be angry about something, you had to care about it first. His father hadn’t bothered to say more than a few words to him since he’d decided not to join the family business.

  “No one is going to take you seriously,” she continued, “if you continue living like a vagabond. You need roots, William. You need—”

  “I’m seeing someone,” he ground out, coming to a street corner. Waiting for the light to change, Will forced a smile at the pregnant woman pushing a stroller beside him.

  For several long seconds his mother didn’t respond, and he smiled to himself for having the ability to render her speechless.

  “Who?” she eventually asked, sounding skeptical. “Not another bartender from that club of yours, I hope,” she continued, a note of di
sgust tingeing her voice.

  “No,” he growled, “and no I’m not telling you who she is, and no I’m not bringing her to dinner. It’s still early, Mother, and I’m not about to scare her off.”

  “Scare her off? Hardly. I’m simply trying to ensure a happy and prosperous future for all my beloved children.”

  As the light changed, he stepped off the curb, snorting in response to his mother. “Sure you are,” he bit out. “Then what about Michael? Shouldn’t your priority be finding a new wife for him, then?”

  “You know very well that’s different. Michael needs time to grieve that terrible woman’s infidelity, and the girls are hardly in any position to be welcoming a stepmother into their home.”

  Will wanted to laugh. “That terrible woman” had been handpicked by their mother, only now that the truth had been revealed—that Michael’s wife had been sleeping with an Italian art dealer for the last two years—their mother had all but denied her part in setting them up to begin with.

  A horn beeped from behind him, and as he turned to look, he found Richard double-parking several car-lengths away.

  “Sorry mother, I have to go,” he said.

  “I want to meet her, William,” she all but shouted down the phone.

  “No,” he shouted back, hurriedly hitting “end” and shoving his phone back into his pocket. Retracing his last twenty or so steps he stopped in front of his car and glared into the open window.

  “She threatened bodily harm, sir,” Richard said, holding his hands up defensively.

  Shaking his head, Will rounded the front of the vehicle. There was no way in hell he was introducing Mila to his family. Not yet. Definitely not over dinner. Hell, maybe not ever.

  Chapter Nine

  My phone vibrated against my thigh for the second time in the past five minutes, and I grinned like an adolescent schoolgirl. Will had been texting me all morning, begging to see me that night. I don’t know what had come over me, but instead of agreeing, I’d been stringing him along with replies of being busy, enjoying the playful banter that had ensued between us.

  Mostly, though, I really liked the new and almost foreign feelings that he brought out in me. Will made me feel stronger, and more confident. With every kiss of his perfect lips and every touch of his nimble hands, I was blossoming into the woman I used to be. And I was greedy for more—more of her, and more of him.

  Setting down the meals in front of my patrons, I smiled as I left their table, returning to the kitchen for the next order of food. My cell vibrated again, but I resisted the urge to pull it out and check it. Will would have to wait until my lunch break.

  It continued to vibrate in my for the next half an hour, keeping a smile on my face until I had cashed out my last customer and handed my tables over. I very rarely ate lunch at the restaurant, not because the food wasn’t good—it was delicious—but because working here for eight, sometimes ten-hour shifts was hard enough. There were only so many times you could admire such complicated meals before needing the simplicity of a hotdog or burger.

  After retrieving my purse from the back room, I headed to a small park nearby. Once there, I pulled my cell phone free, finding fifteen or so messages from Will. Laughing, I scrolled through each message.

  Will: Can I see you tonight?

  Will: I’ll take your silence as a yes.

  Will: Can I meet you for lunch?

  Will: I sound really needy, don’t I?

  Still laughing, I typed out a reply, letting him know that yes, I would meet him tonight. Of course I would—I had been craving him, his touch, since the first night we had met. For a week now, we’d done little more than kiss. We’d gone to the movies, out for coffee, and many dinners—anything we could think of that wouldn’t lead us back to my place, or my bed. But abstaining was growing harder, harder than I had ever expected it to be. I’d woken this morning hot and flustered, dreams of him still raw and vivid in my mind, knowing that my resolve to wait was severely wavering.

  Stopping at a hotdog stand, I ordered my usual—a red hot and a Diet Coke—and while waiting, I turned and surveyed the park. The days were growing considerably cooler, the trees nearly devoid of their leaves. I inhaled deeply, smiling as my cell phone began to vibrate again.

  Will: What are you doing for lunch?

  Mila: I’m busy.

  Will: Liar.

  I giggled, receiving an odd look from the vendor as he handed over my hotdog. After plying it with far too much ketchup, I headed to a nearby bench.

  “I could think of nicer things to eat than a hotdog, Mila.”

  I turned abruptly, finding Will standing behind me, smiling down at me.

  “So you’ll go to lunch with a hotdog, but not me?” he continued. “What does it have that I don’t?”

  I laughed. “Ketchup,” I replied, and took a bite.

  Rounding the bench, he took a seat beside me and gestured for my hotdog. Curious, I handed it over and watched him break it half. Handing me back one half, he popped his portion into his mouth.

  “Ketchup is an odd choice, but if you really want me covered in ketchup…” He swallowed the hotdog and grinned at me.

  I choked on my hotdog, blushing at the image I’d conjured—of Will, naked and covered in ketchup. “Sexy,” I murmured.

  He shook his head. “Not nearly as sexy as watching you eat that hotdog.”

  I burst out laughing. “What?” I sputtered. “Really?”

  Will started nodding, then switched to shaking his head. “No, not really. Hotdogs aren’t sexy. You, however—you’re very sexy.”

  I grinned, a blush heating my cheeks as Will’s hand found my thigh.

  “So, tonight?” I asked.

  “Yes, tonight.” Moving closer to me, reaching for my cheek, he cupped the side of my face and pressed his mouth to mine.

  I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his soft lips and the way his tongue was insistently stroking mine.

  “Nikki will be home,” I said, breaking away. “We should go to your place.”

  I hadn’t seen where he lived yet, and it hadn’t bothered me—at least not until this very moment, when I noticed something flicker across his features.

  “How about dinner out then?” he prompted.

  I frowned, knowing full well both of us wanted more than just dinner out tonight.

  “What’s wrong with your place?” I asked.

  “Aside from my two roommates, nothing.”

  “Okay,” I said slowly, feeling confused. He’d never mentioned roommates before. “Dinner then.”

  Balling up my hotdog wrapper, I tossed it into the trash can beside me and stood up.

  “I need to get back to work,” I mumbled, the earlier heat I’d felt for him slipping away and being replaced with suspicion. I knew a lie when I heard one. I was well-versed in lies.

  “I’ll walk you,” Will said. Getting to his feet, he took my hand in his.

  I squeezed his hand and started walking, though I still felt uneasy, knowing that something was off. Yet, as the warmth from his touch extended through my palm and up my arm, filling me with the affection that I had been craving from him, I dismissed my instincts. What reason would Will have to lie to me? Glancing sideways at him, examining his profile, I realized that I trusted him. If he said he had roommates, then he had roommates.

  When we’d nearly reached the restaurant, Will suddenly turned to me, his arms pulling tightly on my waist, trapping me against him.

  “I need to get to work,” I said, smiling.

  Ignoring me, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my lips, then quickly pulled away. Grabbing him, I pulled him back down and kissed him again.

  “People are looking,” he murmured against my mouth.

  I didn’t care, and was about to tell him just that, when he suddenly broke our kiss, grabbed my hand, and began dragging me down the alley behind the restaurant. Will pushed me gently up against the wall, and began pressing quick messy kisses all over my face. Th
en, once I was giggling uncontrollably, he cupped my face in his hands, covered my mouth with his and kissed me deeply. Heat trembled through me, and desire pulsed between us. I kissed him back eagerly, and my hands moved to his hair, then restlessly to his back and up under the hem of his shirt, desperate to be beneath his clothes and touching his skin.

  I needed more. This wasn’t going to be enough.

  “Come with me,” I breathed, breaking our embrace. Grabbing hold of his hand, I pulled him toward the back door of the restaurant, giving the cooks a small wave as we weaved around them, tugging Will along with me.

  Peeking into the hallway, making sure Carlos’s office door was closed, I continued on, bringing Will into the back room and locking the door behind us.

  Breathing hard, I tossed my purse aside and turned to look at him, seeing the same needy and desperate hunger on his face that I knew I had on mine. But before I could contemplate it, take it apart and dispute my actions for being reckless and stupid, his lips crashed against mine and I was moaning into his mouth.

  His hands grabbed and pulled at me, my own hands gripping his hard length that pressed against the zipper of his pants. It wasn’t like me. This was hasty and unplanned, two things that just weren’t me. I was careful, practiced, I didn’t take risks—I couldn’t afford to take risks.

  “Mila,” he groaned, his tongue drawing lines of heat up the side of my throat, his hands taking handfuls of my skirt and lifting it.

  I gasped as he pushed me backwards, my backside bumping against a small table. Pushing my legs apart, his hand dipping between my thighs, Will’s kisses grew feverish, his tongue dancing over mine, plunging deeply and sucking greedily.

  Pushing my underwear to one side, Will grazed his fingertips over me, palming me before slowly pushing one finger inside. I closed my eyes as my toes curled. Desire flooding me, I whimpered loudly, demanding more, though he continued stroking me slowly, driving me insane with want. Time ticked by, his heavy breathing at my neck, his scent wrapping all around me, and my body raging and begging for more. I wanted more, needed more...

 

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