The Fallback

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The Fallback Page 30

by Dietz, Mariah


  “I’m impressed with your planning skills.”

  “Are you as impressed with my execution skills?” He closes the space between us, one large hand landing on my waist.

  “I don’t know. This may not have been the most romantic of stops. After all, I’ve learned from planning weddings and parties that nothing kills the buzz faster than cops except for a fight, and we just endured both.”

  “You deal with brawls and cops?”

  “Thankfully, it’s not very often, but once in a while I get a crazy situation. Feed me, and I’ll tell you all about them.”

  His fingers constrict around my waist, and his lips slide higher. “I make a mean spaghetti sauce.”

  “You’ll cook for me?”

  “We’re not chancing going out. I don’t trust fate tonight.”

  I lean closer, breathing him in. The warmth of his skin radiates against mine, pulling me closer. “You should. This stop, you coming to help … talk about panty melting.”

  With the tilt of his chin, Levi’s lips are on mine, so intent and purposeful that the kiss is almost painful for a moment before his hand slides into place along my jaw. A calmness fills him; I can feel it in the way his touch and breaths and mouth become lighter. But I don’t want calm. I want fevered, passionate, demanding—I want us to be unapologetically greedy. Forget about inhibitions and give and take until our bodies physically can’t.

  I wrap my hands around his neck, pulling him tighter against me, and dig my teeth into his bottom lip. His hand on my waist slides lower, trailing over my backside as he moans. It’s so intoxicating I feel light-headed before he steals that, too, and our kiss becomes a warzone.

  A knock on the door followed by a call to Levi has us pausing for only a second before Levi kisses me softly, languidly.

  “Should we stop?” I ask, barely managing to keep my eyes open and remain in my own space. Everything inside of me wants to lean forward and lose sight of reality and continue kissing Levi.

  His fingers, still tunneled in my hair, constrict. He shakes his head and pulls me closer. “No.”

  Our lips are like magnets, pushing and pulling, refusing to part. His thumb strokes my cheek, featherlight, creating a need that builds deep within me. I want to feel him everywhere. I shift so that I’m closer to him, my body bowed to align against his. Our hips slide together, and Levi groans, his fingers pulling tighter before his tongue swipes my bottom lip. The taste of whiskey is so intoxicating and consuming I know now that I’ll never be able to smell it and not think of this moment.

  Levi pulls back, kissing me once and then twice on the lips. His blue eyes remain bright as they dance from my lips to my eyes.

  There’s another knock on the door.

  “This isn’t stopping. No cold feet or magical clock chiming midnight or whatever. We give this a fair shot. We see what this is worth.”

  “You say that like it will be easy. I ran into my ex a few weeks ago, and it was awkward as hell. Can you imagine if we decide to stop seeing each other and still have to work together?”

  “The differences between him and me are vast. Be your fiercely independent self and work sixty hours a week—”

  “Sometimes more like eighty,” I interject.

  Levi’s eyes round. “We might need to negotiate and bring it down to sixty. I’ve got plans for us.”

  I roll my eyes. “Let me guess—they involve being naked in your bed?”

  A slow grin curls his lips. “No. I also have a shower, a bathtub, a vanity, a huge island in my kitchen, a few couches, a couple of cars…”

  I laugh, shaking my head.

  “I also have plans to show you more of Chicago. Take you to some White Sox games,” he says, tucking some hair behind my ear. “Check out a couple of these vegan restaurants I’ve been learning about. Go to Hume Chicago, because I’m betting you’ve never seen a movie at Humboldt Park.”

  “Is this your version of foreplay? Tell me about all these incredible secrets around the city you want to show me? Because, I’ll admit, it’s working.”

  A smile flashes across his face, and my heart stops completely before breaking into a faster rhythm. “Let’s go.”

  “Is someone looking for you?”

  Levi shakes his head. “Probably. But they’ll find me tomorrow. Maybe I should get a receptionist. I’m pretty sure I speak with the one at your work more than I do you.”

  “Andrea?”

  “Is that her name? I can’t ever understand her. She’s so quiet.”

  I nod. “Stop calling the main line. You can always call me direct or call my cell phone.”

  “I was attempting to prove to you that I’m not my mother.”

  I laugh. “That’s a good goal. A very good goal.”

  He nods. “I thought you might appreciate it.” Levi stares at me, thoughts visible in his eyes that he again doesn’t translate. Then he grins. It’s slow and sexy and so damn confident I feel as though he’s just stripped me of my clothes. He leans closer, his lips brushing my ear. I shiver, his warmth tickling my desires. “I’ve been thinking about you since I met you at my club. You crave me just like I crave you. You don’t want to, but you do. Tonight, I’m going to show you why.”

  He nips my ear with his teeth, flicking his tongue against the same spot. “Fuck, I’m going to enjoy this.”

  I’m a puddle. I can’t formulate a thought, much less a sentence.

  The moment we’re in the front seat of his car, our hands work to connect us. Touching each other’s legs, arms, hands, anywhere—everywhere. The drive is short, leading us to a tall apartment building with a less-intense parking garage.

  Levi’s hands link with mine, and though there’s still the need to be close, it isn’t in the same way it had been in his office. It’s calmer now, more relaxed. We seem comfortable and content as we stroll to the elevator, where Levi enters a code, and we ride up to the forty-fourth floor.

  The building is worlds apart from my old apartment—clean hallways and a functioning elevator. It even has a parking garage that is heated and well-lit. When Levi pauses in front of his door, I don’t feel the same nervous energy I’d been expecting to feel. The night, though completely offbeat, has allowed me to see sides of Levi I hadn’t expected, and each of them has led me to liking him even more.

  Levi pushes the door open and flips on several lights before waving me in. It smells like fall, of spiced apples and cardamom. It’s also chilly, adding to the autumn feeling of his home. I want to change into a hoodie and warm socks and drink apple cider. The floors are covered in large planked wood that is stained so light it’s nearly white, and a long puzzle of bricks lines the opposite wall, stamped with large windows that look out over the city lights. The furniture is sparse—a couple of couches, a table in the living room, and a kitchen with nearly nothing on the counters.

  “Is this your permanent home?”

  Levi raises his eyebrows with question.

  “Where’s all your stuff?”

  He shrugs. “I didn’t want anything that would compete with the view.”

  “I expected to walk in and see White Sox memorabilia everywhere.”

  A lazy grin stretches his lips. “I do have some Sox stuff throughout the place. You can search and find it all.”

  His comment leaves me grinning and my heart thumping because it sounds like an invitation that might take a while.

  He crosses into the spotless kitchen, filled with more brick and stainless-steel appliances, and pulls a remote from a drawer. With a couple of pressed buttons, music filters from the ceiling. There’s something peaceful about seeing him in his own setting.

  “Would you like some wine?”

  I take a deep breath and nod though I don’t. I don’t care about food, or music, or the views of Chicago; all I want to do is lose myself in Levi.

  He tilts his chin, motioning for me to step closer, and I follow him behind a half wall that leads to an extensive walk-in pantry, the back wall a large wi
ne rack. I can’t fathom how much this place must cost, and while it would likely have caused me to feel uncomfortable a few months ago to have this large of a gap between our means, the fact is merely that—a fact about his life that doesn’t add or detract anything about who he is.

  Levi’s hand runs down my back, resting on my hip. “What do you like? Do you prefer sweeter? Drier? Fruitier? Smoother?”

  His palm is so hot against my flesh it feels like it’s burned through my shirt, distracting me from thoughts of wines and preferences. I turn so we’re facing each other, and Levi’s gaze shifts between my eyes, and for the first time I feel like I understand each silent question and desire as it filters by, and my answer to each of them—to all of them—is to lean forward and kiss him.

  Levi leans closer, his hand rising to my cheek, but he doesn’t lead or push the kiss, allowing me to go at my own tempo. I kiss him slowly, enjoying the way his lips bend to mine and how his fingers inch higher into my hair with each passing second. When I tilt my head so that I’m closer, my body flush against his, an invisible switch flips, and Levi’s hand on my waist moves to the small of my back and draws a slow trail down, over my backside, making my lungs expand because I can’t breathe when he touches me like this—like he wants me. A low groan breaks from his lips, and then he draws the same delicious line back up, this time going all the way to my shoulder blade.

  He kisses me again, harder this time, that mixture of frenzy and desire culminating, creating a pressure that builds in my chest. I slide my hands over his shoulders, feeling the soft cotton of his shirt, hard planes, and contours of muscles that roll and shift below my fingers as he moves, touching me—leaving the brand of his touch across my body.

  Levi growls; it’s a low and deep sound that sends tingles over my flesh. For weeks I’ve imagined what it would be like to be this close to him, to feel him against me. Even in my most vivid of dreams, it didn’t feel like this—like my breaths depended on his and my heart raced to maintain his same pattern. His tongue moves along mine, hot and purposeful, stealing the last of my lingering thoughts.

  I lower my hands to the hem of his shirt and tug it upward, my hands skimming over his defined abs up to his chest, where I hesitate, not wanting to separate from him so I can take it off.

  Then his hands are on my bare flesh, and I’m gasping, each breath a task as his fingers trail over my skin, leaving paths I’ll never be able to forget. With a quick shift, he pulls the blouse free, up over my head where it falls silently, tickling my toes as it lands nearby.

  The room is bright as Levi’s gaze travels over me, and I wonder if he can see what he does—if he can see the same marks that I feel emblazoned upon my skin. If he knows the reaction my body has to him, the reaction my heart has to him.

  “You’re so beautiful.” His words are hushed and thoughtful, not said with the same smoothness I’ve heard him use other times he’s flirted.

  I want to tell him that I don’t care. That I don’t care about who his mom is, or that he’s my client, or that I’ll likely ruin a professional relationship because of this line I’m ready to leap across. Instead, I lift his shirt again, and I don’t hesitate. I peel it from him, exposing his full chest. I place a hand against his bare skin—his heat sears my hand. I whisper, “Thank you.” Maybe it’s for telling me I’m pretty, maybe it’s for helping me forget the ugly sides of my past, or perhaps it’s for leading me down this path of self-discovery—maybe it’s for everything.

  Levi takes my hand from his chest, encircling it with his, and grabs a bottle off the wine rack with his other hand. He leads me back to the kitchen, where he withdraws a corkscrew and two large wineglasses that hang upside down from below the cabinets.

  Then he leads me down a short hall to his bedroom.

  37

  A slight shiver runs through me with the absence of his heat and the anticipation that’s built so high. Levi leaves the door open and the lights off, depositing the bottle, glasses, and corkscrew on top of a large bureau before his naked chest is against mine. His hands tunnel into my hair, and he kisses me, erasing the cold like he did my demons. His hands fall from my face, tracing down my body as he kisses me harder, and then his hands are on my breasts, and I’m grasping for him—for air and ground, realizing this is going to be my true escape.

  I slide my fingers over the planes of his abs to the top of his jeans, where I quickly work to free each button. Levi tips his head back, the lines of his jaw creating a black outline in the darkened room. He hums a sigh, and then his breath catches as I slide my hands past the hem, pulling his pants down past his thighs.

  He reaches out, grasping my wrists, then straightens. “God, I get drunk off of you.” His chest heaves with each breath, and then his admission hits me squarely in the chest. He wants me. He’s wanted me this entire time.

  Thoughts of telling him that I feel the same swirl through my mind, that I forget how to breathe and talk when I think about him, and how my body is covered with memories of his light touches that have branded me and made me forget everyone and everything else. It seems like too much, too far, too fast, so I press up on my toes, and I kiss him. I grasp his shoulders in hopes he knows I don’t want him to let go. I stroke his tongue with mine to tell him sleep is a commodity I don’t plan to collect tonight. Then I dip my hand into his boxer briefs and along his length, telling him I want him.

  Levi groans, his shoulders dropping. While my palm slides over him, he reaches for my pants, releasing the button and zipper and pulling them free with a harsh tug. My underwear quickly follows the same path, then his hands rest on my hips, guiding me backward until I hit his bed. My knees buckle, and then Levi is kissing me, and it’s all lips, tongues, hands, and desire breaking every barrier left until he slides inside of me.

  * * *

  “I want details. You are not allowed to skimp. I want to know everything. Everything,” Felicity says, taking my arm as I step through the front door the next morning. “Dan, Books and I need to chat. We’ll be upstairs.”

  “On it!” he yells from the living room.

  “What happened? Was it sweet? Sexy? Erotic? Tell me it was good. Please, please, tell me it was glorious. Amazing. Mind-blowing.”

  “What’s with all the synonyms? It’s like junior year all over, and we’re prepping for the SATs.”

  “Was he huge?” Felicity plops onto my bed, causing a pillow to fall to the floor. She doesn’t move to retrieve it. “Does he have other tattoos?”

  “I should shower.”

  She nods. “You smell like sex.”

  My cheeks flare with embarrassment.

  Felicity taps her nose with her index finger. “I can smell things a mile away. Pregnancy apparently makes women human trackers.” She shrugs.

  I fall back against my bed, my arms raised above my head. “I’m in trouble.”

  “Because he was that good?”

  “No. Well, yes, but just him. I like him. I didn’t expect to like anyone this soon, and yet Levi is like this enigma. I know we shouldn’t be together. I’ve known it from the beginning, and yet the harder I try to fight it, the more I want him.”

  Felicity sits up, leaning on an elbow as she peers over at me. “I think you want him to be wrong for you, so you’re looking for excuses to make him be.”

  “He’s Catherine’s son!” I remind her.

  She nods. “I mean this in the most loving way possible, but look at your parents. You’re nothing like them. You can’t judge him because of her special brand of crazy just like no one should judge you because your parents are selfish assholes.”

  I close my eyes. Her words feel like a punch to the gut. “How did I never see it that way?”

  Felicity sets her hand on mine, linking our fingers. “Don’t beat yourself up. That’s not why I brought it up. I just don’t want you to miss the opportunity to be happy with him over an intangible fear.”

  “He’s still my boss’s son.”

  “He is.”
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  “And I’m pretty sure Catherine will skin me like a cat if she ever finds out.”

  “Do people actually skin cats?” she asks. “I mean, I’ve seen rabbit, minx, and alligator skins and furs, but I’ve never seen anything saying it’s made of cat fur.”

  I open my eyes to stare at my best friend. “Really? Now seems like the appropriate time to be a pain in the ass?”

  She laughs, lying beside me again. “Don’t worry about Catherine. Don’t worry about what might go bad or wrong—just focus on now and what’s making you happy. You deserve happiness. Everyone does.”

  “Are you feeling happy?” I roll to my side so I can see her better.

  “We aren’t talking about me right now. We’re talking about you. Allow yourself to be a priority sometimes.”

  “You and Dan want to go to dinner or something tonight? I feel bad that I’ve missed the last couple of movie nights. I was thinking I could try to make up for it by loading your kids up on sugar and snuggling them on the couch tonight.”

  Felicity’s lips tip upward, but her smile never reaches her eyes. “I’m serious, Books. Make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

  “Being with Theo and Gemma is taking care of myself. Until they start making messes or get fussy or Gemma starts asking me if people from history are dead or not… then I pass the reins back over to you.”

  She laughs, and this time I see the joy hit her eyes before she closes them. “It’s totally normal for all kids to ask if everyone’s dead, right?”

  “I don’t know. I just distract her and offer her a doughnut.”

  “Dan offers her a cartoon.”

  “I tip my hat for you trying to talk to her about it.”

  “Thanks. Now tell me about Levi!” She rolls closer.

  My cheeks stretch with a grin. “It was … amazing. Incredible.” I stretch out on my back, recalling the way his hands traveled over my body. “I don’t even know how to describe it. He was controlling and almost demanding, and yet I felt so powerful. Like he was paying attention to me so closely that he knew what to do based upon my reactions. I’ve never… I thought it would be difficult, you know? I thought after having slept with the same person for so long I’d feel sad or intimidated, and though I was a little nervous, it felt amazing. I still feel amazing.”

 

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