I stopped suddenly, having reached the park.
I heard footsteps behind me and turned to see Chris running to catch up. That charming grin was on his face.
I wondered if what was happening with Chris was real as well. Could it be possible he was actually interested in me?
I looked up to see if there were any flying pigs.
Nope.
Chris stopped in front of me. “I’ve been calling you for the last two blocks. Didn’t you hear me?”
“Huh? No, sorry.”
I was kind of surprised. I usually have pretty good hearing. Those thoughts of mine must have had me buried.
“You okay?” he asked. His hand rubbed my arm. “I know yesterday was pretty rough.”
I smiled — soft and demure.
Why was I suddenly acting so mushy around him?
“I’ll be fine,” I said. Then I added, “I think.”
“Come on, I’ll race you to the field.” He took off like a bolt, and I paused before my legs tore after him. It took me about ten strides before I caught him. Chris was fast, but I was faster.
I breezed past him and reached the field about five strides in front of him.
“You’re too fast for me,” he said, stumbling into me. He grabbed me by the waist and held on a little longer than he normally would have.
I turned in his arms and looked at him. Those green eyes of his were staring right into mine.
I didn’t know what to do with myself, and I couldn’t believe what I did next.
I rubbed his head, like a little kid.
As he let me go, my tongue got ahead of my brain. “One of these days, you might catch me,” I said.
He jogged past and whispered, “I can’t wait.”
Chapter 6
I thought I would have had more trouble getting my head into practice considering everything that was going on, not to mention the fact Chris seemed to be hanging around me a little more than he usually would. I think the other girls on the team noticed as well, because those who had openly admitted their undying attraction to him were staring daggers at me.
I didn’t know what to do with it, so I just threw myself into the game full on. I even tackled Chris at one point and I wasn’t gentle about it. It just seemed to make him smile all the more.
When practice was over, he walked me back to my building and asked if he could cook me dinner.
“I’m not really in the mood for macaroni and cheese,” I said. He was apparently a good cook, or so I’d heard.
He laughed. “I could serve it with ketchup.”
“Ah, ketchup — for when someone serves you slop. I’ll take it.” I didn’t have any plans, so dinner with him was fine.
Actually, it was more than fine. I was grinning like an idiot.
“I’ll bring dessert,” I said.
I could swear his eyes looked at me like I was dessert.
That knot was in my throat again. “What time?”
It was almost one o’clock.
“Give me an hour to shower and stuff,” he said.
“It’s a bit early for dinner.” It was a bit of a prying comment.
He bit. “We can just hang out for a while. I downloaded a new song I want you to hear.”
My heart was fluttering.
“See you in an hour,” I said, and walked into the building. I took three steps and turned to see if he was still there. My heart leapt out of my chest. He was. He had that charming smile that was all white teeth and bright eyes, and then turned and walked off.
I was so excited I could have leapt up the stairs, three at a time, all the way to the twenty-first floor.
Back in my apartment, I dodged into the shower, cleaning myself up as fast as I could. I pondered perfume.
Too presumptuous?
I had a bottle from a former boyfriend. I took one whiff, realized I’d probably never use it, and tossed it.
I scanned through the pile of clean clothes. Why didn’t I have anything girly? Did everything I own involve sweat pants and oversized sweaters?
I resorted to some jeans I was lucky still fit and a silk shirt my brother bought me for Christmas. It had come with a complementing scarf.
“Thank you, Geoff,” I muttered. At the very least, my brother had good taste.
Speaking of which, I was surprised I hadn’t heard from him yet. Would he come around, or did he still think Joan was incapable of that much manipulation?
I left the shirt on the hanger until my hair dried. I wasn’t using a blow dryer, that was for sure.
Scouring the kitchen and fridge for anything that resembled dessert proved fruitless. Chocolate didn’t survive long in this place. I’d have to pick something up along the way.
Now I had time on my hands — half an hour to kill. That wasn’t good. I wasn’t much of a television fan. I could have killed some time on the computer, but wasn’t in the mood.
And those papers on the coffee table were calling my name.
I probably should have shredded them right there and then, but I didn’t. Instead, I plopped onto the futon and grabbed the stack of diary entries.
I was asking for trouble, but there was a curiosity that was niggling at me.
Instead of reviewing the same set of entries, I flipped down to some slightly different pages. These were dated even earlier, in the name of John Gregory, my great-great-grandfather. I remembered he died in World War I.
A thought struck me then.
Rummaging through the other sheets that Joan had left, I discovered the death certificate for my grandfather and great-grandfather. I looked at the dates. They had both been twenty-four.
I grabbed my father’s. Also twenty-four.
There was nothing in my stomach, but it felt like there was lead in there. It wanted to come up.
At that point, I’d decided I’d had enough. I put them down, donned the shirt, and I was out the door. I didn’t care if my hair was still a little damp, and screw it if I was a little early. I wasn’t staying at home any longer. I needed to forget about this stuff because it was going to drive me batshit.
I marched across the street to the grocery store and grabbed an apple caramel cheesecake. If I remembered correctly, Chris was a huge cheesecake fan.
So was I.
I arrived at his condo and had to look him up in the directory. I’d been to the front of his building, but never up to his place. I found his number and buzzed.
I faced the security camera and held up the cheesecake. “Delivery!”
His voice came over the speaker. “Is this the pizza girl?”
“That depends,” I said. “Would you like me to be?”
Did I just say that?
The door unlocked with a buzz and I made my way up to his floor. In the elevator, I had to wipe my palms on my jeans. When I arrived at his door, I took deep, steadying breaths before I knocked.
Was this really happening? Should I be here? Was I asking for trouble?
I raised my hand to knock, but the door opened.
Chris stood there in nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist, and I had a really hard time not showing what I was thinking.
I’d suspected his body was well developed. Even with clothes it was obvious his muscles were impressive. Now I could see I’d underestimated him.
I didn’t know where to put my eyes — his shoulders, his chest, his arms, or those green shining eyes that were staring right through me. I turned three different shades of red and had to force my mouth closed.
He looked coy. “I was expecting the pizza girl. That doesn’t look like pizza.”
I didn’t know what to say. My tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth.
He opened the door fully. “But, I like you better.”
I stepped in, still saying nothing. His eyes wouldn’t stop smiling.
Oh my god. He was enjoying this.
I pulled myself together. “You going to stand there in a towel or take this cheesecake?”
&nb
sp; His eyes hinted mischief. “Well, I could let go of the towel.”
“How about you just show me where the kitchen is,” I said. I was afraid he’d actually let go and I wasn’t sure I was ready for that yet. Although I couldn’t stop my eyes from looking at a certain part of his towel that seemed larger than it did when I’d arrived at the door.
He laughed. “It’s around the corner,” he said pointing. “I’ll join you in a sec.”
I took one last look at the towel, then those green gems, and made for the kitchen. I took a couple of deep breaths as I walked.
I had better not be reading those vibes wrong.
I couldn’t be. There was no way.
On the way to the kitchen, I took in the place. It certainly had a male feel, but it was impeccably neat. I figured he must have a maid. No man I knew was this neat, other than Geoff. And, well, he was gay.
Unlike the pale blandness of my apartment, the walls here were painted in rich colors — green, blue, and even crimson in the dining room. The furniture was modern, with a tendency towards an espresso theme. I knew he made a good living at a tech company.
I placed the cheesecake on the granite counter and admired the stainless steel décor.
A very good living.
I pulled out one of the stools from the breakfast bar and waited.
I didn’t have to wait long.
Chris came around the corner in a white t-shirt and jeans. I think I drooled.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, and placed the cheesecake in the fridge. “Want a tour?”
I nodded. He took me by the hand, which I was surprised at. It was a little forward on his part, but I went along with it.
He took me around the place, showing me his office. He had those floor-to-ceiling bookshelves where I caught authors like Saramago, Nicholson, and Weis, along with an abundance of books on Celtic mythology.
I also noticed he had a lot of plants — all well cared for. I tried not to look at them.
Of course, the tour ended with the room I was the most nervous about.
Then his grip on my hand tightened, as he led me into his bedroom.
Chapter 7
A masculine-looking four-poster was the first thing that drew my attention. It was dark like the rest of the décor. The amount of pillows and white comforters made me think it would be like sleeping on a cloud. The rest of the room was sparsely decorated. I actually looked at the ceiling to see if there was a mirror. I don’t know what made me think there might be one there. I was a little disappointed there wasn’t.
Where did that thought come from?
Chris continued to take me by the hand.
“And this is where I sleep,” he said.
I let go of his hand to go sit on the bed. There was no way I was going to pass up a chance to see what it felt like.
I hopped on and closed my eyes. I wasn’t disappointed. I sank into it. I really needed to get a better paying job. Working for the video store was just not cutting it.
As Chris walked towards me, I caught a scent — apple and cinnamon. Its source was a lit candle on the dresser.
He faced me, standing between my legs. I was drawn into those eyes. He put his hands on my thighs, pushing them apart just enough so he could get his body closer to mine.
Strangely, I didn’t fight him.
My heart was pounding in my chest. His face leaned towards mine and his stare left me frozen. I could smell him from here, a sweet and musky scent I couldn’t help but drink in. His face leaned in closer, and I couldn’t believe this was happening. My heart trembled.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispered.
His lips hovered over mine.
My brain told me to wait, that this was a mistake, but every other part of my body made my face lunge forward.
My lips pressed against his, soft and warm.
Oh my god.
I couldn’t believe this was happening.
He pushed forward, harder, and his tongue slipped between my lips. There was a sweetness to his mouth. I hungered for it.
His hands reached for my waist and he pressed his body against me while I squeezed my legs to pull him in. His tongue danced with mine, slow and intense.
I moaned. My heart throbbed. I wanted this. I needed it.
I let him explore my mouth and lips. I could taste his hunger. I gave him mine, full and hard.
His hands slid up my back, strong and forceful. Mine did the same, inching up the muscles of his back. I wanted him closer.
Slow and rhythmic, our tongues danced. I barely breathed.
He pulled out slow and rested his lips against my forehead, breathing hard. “Maybe we should wait,” he said. “I don’t want to rush this.” He pulled me up, wrapping those arms of his around me. “I want this to be right,” he whispered.
Rush? Everything about this was rushed.
I didn’t care.
I pushed him on the bed.
I straddled him and pressed my lips against his. He gave in immediately, allowing my tongue in. This time he moaned.
His hands pulled me closer, harder than before. I could feel how much he wanted this.
I rubbed against him while we kissed. His body pushed up against mine. Even through his jeans I could feel him between my legs, hard and throbbing. I wanted them off.
I left his mouth, sliding my tongue down to his neck, tasting him, kissing him.
He moaned again.
I inched down, pulling the shirt up so I could run my tongue across his chest. I bit his nipples. He sucked in his breath.
I worked my way down to his stomach, eager, but his hands grabbed my head. He sat up, pushing his tongue into my mouth. I kissed him, savoring his taste, then I forced him back on the bed. I wanted something else.
I undid his pants and he lifted his hips. I yanked them down. He was thick, hard, and wanting. My tongue danced all around him, teasing. I kissed the insides of his legs. He gasped and moaned as I slid my tongue upwards. I was slow, deliberate.
My tongue danced along the tip and slid back down. Then I took him into my mouth. He groaned, his hands running through my hair.
His knees lifted, his thick legs pressing gently against my head. His hips rose and fell in motion with my mouth. My hands reached for his butt. I squeezed. He got harder, thicker.
He moaned again and I went all the way down on him. I nearly choked as I satisfied my need to fill my mouth with his length.
Then he sat up, tossing me onto the bed. He pulled off his shirt and pressed against me, his tongue entering my mouth.
When he stopped, he smiled. “My turn,” he said.
He untied the scarf around my neck, while he nibbled at my ears. Then he slowly undid my shirt, and with each button his lips inched down my body. When the last button was undone, he pulled me up to take my shirt off, kissing me again. With one hand he unclasped my bra and lowered me to the bed.
Then his tongue explored my breasts, intentionally ignoring my nipples. They were hard, and yearning for his touch. He danced around them, every once in a while flicking them. His hands cupped my breasts, then he seized them and squeezed. He nibbled at my lips, careful bites and licks and then his fingers began to toy with my nipples.
He pinched and flicked until I thought I would scream. Then his mouth went down, and his tongue was on one aroused nipple, then the other. He licked at first, and then pressed his mouth over it. I grabbed his head and pulled him down as he worked on each one.
His hands moved to my pants, unbuttoning them. I lifted my hips and he kissed me just above my panties. He pulled those down with his teeth, slow and delicate.
His tongue slid up my leg. I quivered, wishing for him to hurry; needing him to.
When he finally reached me, I tipped my head back and voiced my pleasure. “Oh, god.”
He took his time, licking, tasting, exploring, making me squirm. I wrapped his head in my legs and he brought his hands up to hold mine. Then he pushed his tongue inside
me, slow and rhythmic, just like when he kissed me.
I groaned.
My hips moved in time with his tongue, pushing up against his face. One of his hands let go and those thick fingers of his were inside me while his tongue continued to work.
I moaned.
My eyes rolled back. He knew what he was doing. He kept at me, unrelenting. I knew what he wanted. My legs squeezed. I tried to resist. I tried to make it last, but couldn’t.
He consumed my orgasm, reaching deeper with his tongue as I screamed out.
He slowed a little, becoming gentle, before his tongue worked its way up once more. He paused at my breasts, biting at my nipples. Then, he kissed me again, and I tasted his passion and desire.
I rolled him over, and held his hands down. His eyes flashed. Between my legs I felt him throb.
“Move,” I said, and shuffled him over. I grabbed my scarf and those shining emeralds of his told me everything I needed to know.
I slid up along his body, perching myself just in front of his face while I tied his hands together. I let him have a little taste of me while I secured him to the bed. I slid back down letting him suck on my nipple. I rubbed against him. He was hard and ready.
His eyes were intense, wanting.
I let him in.
We both moaned.
His hips thrust upwards, hard. I pressed down, holding his chest while he continued to push into me. Every plunge inside me was ecstasy.
I leaned back against his legs as he continued to drive into me. When he started to speed up, I slowed him down, wanting it to last. I leaned down, letting his tongue dance along my nipples while I continued to ride him. Then I kissed him, raw and hard. He drove harder. I wanted all of him inside me.
For every thrust of his hips, his tongue danced with mine.
He sped up again. He was bringing me close once more. I didn’t hold back this time. I screamed with pleasure as he pushed into me, over and over. He got thicker.
His hips kept going, faster, more urgent. I kissed him again, pushing back on him. I sucked on his neck and ears. His thrusts continued, but I knew he was holding out on me. He was bringing me to ecstasy yet again. I sat up, riding him hard.
Broken: A Paranormal Romance Page 4