Way To My Heart

by Barbara C. Doyle

  I shook it off. “What do you want to watch?”

  He let Mashed Potato jump off his lap when she was done being adored. “I think a TV show would get me out sooner than a movie. Unless you picked a show binge-worthy, in which case would give me a reason to stay longer.”

  Was he giving me an out?

  His arms were crossed on his chest, his body eased into the couch cushions. His shirt had white cat hairs on it, but he didn’t seem to mind. He was comfortable in my little world.

  And I liked having him here.

  The realization struck me head on, chiseling away some of my fear.

  If I chose a good show to watch, he’d most likely spend the night. I’d been here once before with Nathan. I wasn’t cautious with him. I left my heart wide open to anything he would give me, and he offered nothing.

  “A movie sounds nice,” I whispered.

  He didn’t take offense to my choice. He just smiled, like he was happy either way. And maybe he was. Caleb didn’t give away much.

  I let him pick what we watched, feeling completely guilty. I’d expected him to choose a horror flick or action movie, but he surprised me and settled on Universal’s latest movie The Secret Life of Pets.

  It made me smile. I settled into a spot that seemed so tiny compared to the surface area he encompassed. I wasn’t uncomfortable, if anything I liked how he dominated my air.

  When the movie started, I glanced at our hands. His rested on his thigh like mine had, his palm face up. My fingers twitched, shifting closer to his and then drawing back in indecision.

  Trying to focus on the cartoon dog on the screen, I closed my fingers. My heartbeat played an erratic tune as I forced myself to watch what was playing out on in front of me. I’d seen the movie before, so it wasn’t like I was missing anything important.

  I was distracted. Every little movement Caleb made had my undivided attention. From the corner of my eye, I noticed him look down at the way my hand rested, but the glance lasted for only a second.

  Ten minutes into the movie, I’d remembered why I hadn’t watched it since that first time. It may have been for children, but it was depressing. Not only was the premise a dog being rescued from the pound, but the animals left behind by their humans during the day made me wonder what my own pet was thinking while I was gone.

  I’d almost cried in the theater, but now my eyes were really welling. Trying to dry my wet cheeks before he noticed was a fail, because when I went to lift my arm, I accidently elbowed him.

  He angled his body toward me, worry weighing down his brows. “Why are you crying?”

  I sniffed. “It’s so sad.”

  “How is this sad?”

  I watched Mashed Potato sleep in the corner of the room, perfectly content. “What if that’s what Mashed Potato does all day? What if she misses me so much that all she does is sit by the door?”

  He stared at my quivering jaw and leaky eyes before putting his arm around me and tugging me into his side. His spicy scent engulfed me.

  “Babe, when you’re at home, where is she?”

  “It depends on her mood.”

  “Okay, but nine times out of ten, what does she do?”

  I frowned. “Ignore me.”

  I felt him nod. “Exactly. I promise that she’s not in some depressed state waiting for you to come home. Okay? This was supposed to be a feel-good movie.”

  I pulled away. “Have you seen this?”

  “No…”

  Now I was a blubbering mess. “They have to rescue a dog from being euthanized! This was one of the saddest movies ever!”

  He deadpanned. “You own Finding Nemo and Bambi, where both the main character’s mothers die. How is this the saddest one you’ve seen?” His eyes get big. “Jesus H. Christ. Don’t tell me the dog gets put down.”

  “No, they save him.”

  He grabbed the remote from the table and stopped the movie. “How about something that doesn’t make you cry? I mean, it gave me a reason to put my arm around you, but not really the way I wanted to go about it.”

  It was then that I felt the weight of his toned arm around my frail shoulders. Warmth radiated from where my cheek rested against his chest. His heartbeat thumped, lulling my brain.

  Caleb pulled me closer, so close my mind couldn’t help but remember what it felt like the last time someone held me.

  It was funny how one person could inflict so much damage on one’s psyche. Nathan hadn’t even kissed me, we hadn’t shared our thoughts on world politics of our favorite foods. I didn’t even know his favorite color. Yet he was the one who stuck out. The one who made me question the type of romance I loved reading in books.

  Love was like God.

  I didn’t know if it existed.

  Well…until now.

  Caleb shifted, snapping me from the painful memory. “What’s wrong?”

  I hadn’t realized my body had locked up. I blew out a breath, easing my tense muscles. This was Caleb, combing his fingers through my hair with one hand while holding my hand with the other.

  Caleb wanted to touch me softly. Comfort me in my time of need.

  It was just now I realized Nathan Reed never wanted to hold my hand.

  “Sorry,” I whispered into his shirt. “I was just thinking about a different time, different place. It isn’t important.”

  His chin rested on the top of my head. “I doubt it isn’t important. Do you want to talk about it?”

  My throat thickened. “No.”

  It was an old conversation anyway. Thinking about Nathan, or Tyler, or any of them while I was with this amazing guy. Caleb wasn’t like them—he wasn’t giving up on me like the others had. He was willing to give me something that I never had before.

  It made me feel fuller. Like a little piece of myself slipped back into place.

  “I just want…” I licked my bottom lip. “I want this to be different than the relationships I tried to have before, Cal. It’s not just their fault things didn’t work. I was just as much to blame.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I drew away from his hold, his arm dropping back down to his sides. Leaning against the arm of the couch, I pulled the hem of my sweater over my knobby knees.

  Nibbling on my lip, I shifted my gaze upward. “It’d be so much easier if I could blame every guy who rejected me for how I feel right now. But then that’d become just another excuse. How can I blame them when they all knew what they wanted? It’s petty to feel the way I do. It was me who expected too much and wanted more than they offered. I got my own hopes up, and that shouldn’t be on them. But all this time I made it that way, so I’d stop feeling so bad about myself.”

  I’d let go of my ill feelings toward Lucas, Tyler, and Connor. But I’d held onto Nathan because he was the first one who I imagined a real relationship with. His rejection cut through me. He never truly rejected me, but instead strung my along for his pleasure.

  There was no closure.

  I laughed at that. “I’m an idiot,” I mused drily. “I spent so much time being sour over past lovers because they didn’t like me. When I’m not sure I ever really liked them to begin with.”

  “Why get involved then?” Caleb questioned.

  I blew out a breath, sinking into where I sat.

  “Haven’t you just wanted to feel wanted?”

  He thought about it. “I suppose.”

  I shrugged. “I spent my whole life watching everybody around me get what they wanted. I was the socially awkward chubby girl in high school, and my best friend was the popular cheerleader type. Guys flocked to her all the time, some of them even coming to me just to see if she would be interested in them. I was the middle man for fucks sake. After a while, I just wanted to know what that felt like. I wanted to feel the power of having a man crawling and begging for little ol’ me.”

  He nodded in understanding. “And now?”

  Wasn’t it human nature to want attention? To crave the feeling of being needed. I think
the most important part of my revelation was the who.

  “It depends on the person.”

  He inched toward me. “What about me?”

  I bit down on my bottom lip.

  He smiled. “I’m going to kiss you now, Paisley. Because I like you and I want to. Cool?”

  My throat thickened, and I bobbed my head in a tiny nod. “Cool.”

  How You Know It Won’t Work:

  It could be the orgasm talking, but maybe it will work…

  His movements were slow as he cupped my face in his large hands, his thumb brushing against my bottom lip. I watched the way he leaned into me, how his eyes locked on my lips like it was all he could focus on.

  Then he was kissing me.

  His lips pressed lightly against mine, his hands cradling my face, and all I could think was how my chest filled with something so strong and foreign. In that moment, I forgot how to breathe.

  Slowly, he drew back, rolling his forehead against mine. His shallow breath tickled my nose.

  “You kissed me,” I stated dumbly.

  His dark chuckle vibrated throughout my tingling limbs. “Darling, that was nothing.”

  His hands went to either side of my jaw as he dipped down to show me just how much he held back the first time. His lips parted mine, his tongue gaining entrance until I could taste the citrus from our drinks mingling. He pressed closer, one of his hands tangling into my wild hair as he angled his head to the side to deepen the kiss.

  I made a startled noise when he hooked his arm around my middle and pulled me forward, somehow lifting me until I straddled his lap. My knees pressed on either side of his waist, my center pressing against a very, very hard part of his anatomy.

  My arms had a mind their own, circling his neck until my breasts were squished against his solid chest. I took control of the kiss, rolling my hips forward to get friction I desperately needed.

  He groaned into my mouth, letting me set the pace, his fingertips digging into my hips harder every time I moved them. I was the first one to pull away. His eyes were glassy and hooded in arousal, both of us wanting more.

  Arching his hips up and pressing my shoulders down at the same time, he let out a low growl from the back of his throat when we connected.

  “I need to touch you,” he pleaded, hands moving up my thigh until they stopped at the waistband of my jeans.

  I choked on a breath, peering down at his hand. His finger hooked under the waistband, teasing the sensitive skin of my lower tummy.

  “Caleb.” My voice cracked. “I’ve…”

  “I just want to make you feel good,” he told me, not moving again until I gave him permission.

  I forced air out of my lungs, trying to calm my screaming heart and my overactive brain. My body wanted him to touch every aching part of me, but I was overthinking. I had never let it get this far before, because I didn’t want to give too much away if it was only going to be a one-time thing.

  “How long has it been, Paisley?”

  My whole body ran hot over the question, and if I was honest I was afraid he’d leave if he knew the answer.

  He waited, lust flaming his blue eyes until they were pools of granite. It was extremely hard to focus when he looked at me like I was his next meal.

  “I’ve never…” I shook my head, trying to gather my thoughts. “Nobody has touched me like that before.”

  He leaned forward, lips pressing against my cheek gently, then slowly trailed toward my ear.

  “Good,” he whispered, nipping the lobe.

  I sucked in a breath, surprised. His breath sent shivers down my spine as he peppered kisses across my cheek until landing on my lips. I kissed him back, sweeping my tongue against his, pressing down to feel the warmth of his palm.

  I pulled back this time as doubt filled my subconscious. “You think it’s good that no one’s touched me?”

  He shot me his cocky grin, only this time it set me on fire more than irritated me. “Sweetheart, they wouldn’t know what to do with you anyway.”

  “And you do?”

  The same finger that was hooked under my pants moved toward the button, flicking it open. “Why don’t we find out?”

  My eyes widened. All function ceased. My silence may not have been an answer, but my hips arching into his hold was definitely the sign he needed.

  His free hand slipped under my sweater, drawing it further down my shoulder. His eyes followed the movement until the black lettering of my hidden ink was revealed.

  “You have a tattoo?” he whispered.

  My eyes stayed locked on the mesmerized look dancing across his features. I shivered when his fingertip traced the script of the quote.

  Love with a single look.

  I bit down on my lip when his finger stopped just above my left breast where the last word ended. My chest rose faster and faster at the sensations. His fingertip pressing down like he was engraving his mark on my skin.

  “Caleb?” I sighed, goosebumps covering every inch of exposed skin.

  “Hmm?”

  My hand wrapped around his, but I didn’t push it away. I just held it as he kept touching me. His orbs sent sparks of lust and need right into my soul. Could he hear my heart? Feel it?

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking that I really want to kiss your tattoo,” he answered in a husky tone. Before I could say anything, his lips dipped down and grazed the quote. I let my lids fall closed as his lips trailed across the lettering, stopping and lingering on my heartbeat.

  He pulled away. “If you don’t believe in love, why get this permanently etched on your body?”

  “I guess it wasn’t that I didn’t believe in it, but…”

  He brushed a stray hair behind my ear, waiting for me to finish my thought.

  “I didn’t believe in myself.”

  His forehead rested against mine. “And you do now?”

  I hesitated. “It’s getting little easier.”

  His breath caressed my nose. “Glad to hear.”

  My heart thrummed.

  He leaned in again, his lips tracing every line and curve of my shoulders, collarbone, and cheeks.

  His lips moved strategically slow, driving me crazy until they covered mine. They were soft yet commanding as his hands curled into my hair and around my neck. He pulled my head closer to his, getting as deep as gravity would allow.

  Angling his head to the side, he tasted me at every angle. I shifted on the couch and spread my legs wider to feel him beneath me. One of his hands slipped from the back of my neck to my lower back, my shirt slipping up a little at the new position.

  A quiet moan bubbled from my throat when I felt him harden as he moved against me. I wasn’t an expert on how to pleasure a man, but based on the way Caleb twitched, I knew that something was working on my side.

  He squeezed my thigh, creating heat between my legs. The finger that had popped the button open on my jeans was now lowering the zipper, the sound of metal scraping metal a dark melody to my ears. Anticipation built as he lowered the jeans enough to slip his hand inside.

  “Caleb,” I breathed as his lips grazed mine again.

  His focus was drawn solely to the way his hand caressed every centimeter of my body.

  “Caleb,” I tried again. His lips had found their way down my neck, nipping and biting. His nose nuzzled into the nook of my neck, causing my spine to shake.

  I squeezed my thighs against his hips, demanding he do something before I spontaneously combusted right there on the couch.

  Tilting my head further back to give him access to my throat, I blurted, “Maybe we should stop.”

  The realness of the moment had my body crashing into a sea of nervousness. Caleb almost touching my sex was a new feeling—if I crossed that invisible line I would lose another piece of myself. I didn’t want to drown in his seduction. And I would drown.

  I would have no one to blame but myself.

  Caleb’s response was to shift his hips
against my aching core, my eyes rolling back in my head from the feeling. I was having a battle between mind and body.

  Finally, he pulled back, eyes lost as they took me in. “I’ll stop if you want me to, Paisley. But I’ve got to be honest, I really need to make you come.”

  My eyes widened. “You what?”

  “Let me make you feel good, baby.”

  He was thinking about me?

  That alone had my mind shutting down, my body clearly winning the war of morals and ethics. Caleb wasn’t after his own release, but mine. That alone was…that was everything.

  “O-okay.”

  His eyes flashed as he crushed our lips together. His free hand slid up my thigh until it cupped my front.

  I cursed under my breath, which made him chuckle. “I can feel how warm you are,” he said into my neck.

  His kisses were light but maddening as they moved over my sensitive skin. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while, Paisley. Nearly tortured myself knowing that I couldn’t have you. Not until you were ready.”

  He breathed in my natural scent, nose brushing my jaw right before his tongue demanded entrance back in my mouth. At the same time, he put more pressure against my sex.

  I whined into his mouth, needing more. He took the hint and cupped me over my panties. I was suddenly glad I’d worn lace instead of my boring cotton ones. Or, God forbid, rainbow kittens.

  “Please,” I begged into his mouth, moving my hips at an unruly pace.

  “You don’t have to beg,” he promised, moving the lace aside and finally touching me.

  The sensation was uncomfortable at first. I almost stopped his perfectly timed ministrations. But the second he coated my obvious arousal on his thumb and glided upwards to that little ball of nerves, fireworks burst at every nerve ending. He moved his fingers in circular motions until I was fighting back noises that I was embarrassed to make.

  That was when he entered me. One finger at first. He let my body get used to the intrusion before adding a second finger and curling them.

  “Holy shit.”

  Immeasurable pleasure soared through my legs. He was worshipping me. In the time-stopping moment, I felt like I was the only person in the world who mattered. Like it was just us, and nobody else mattered.