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Chasing Paige (Falling for Words Book 1)

Page 6

by Tiffany Janine


  Her question brings me out of my erotic thoughts. “Must be the sick and twisted serial killer inside my head.” I chuckle. “Seriously though, I’ve always loved those types of books. Stephen King, James Patterson…the fascination of getting inside a killer’s demented mind…you can make them however evil you want, unlike romance. Too much romance can get boring, but horror stories are a whole other feeling. I want someone who reads my books to be outright frightened, yet love the thrill of it. Just like my serial madman - it’s a high that I get.”

  “I should be really scared of you right now.” She leans further into my side and adds, “What if you really are a serial killer and I’m about to be slaughtered to death before dumping me somewhere.”

  The breath from her voice lands on my cheek, and turns me the hell on. Shit. As close as I can, I speak into her ear and flirtatiously respond, “If that were true, at least we had an enjoyable evening, and I got a taste of that sweet mouth of yours before I sliced you into pieces.”

  “That’s horrible!” She gasps, throwing her head back and laughing. I can’t help but laugh with her. She makes it so easy for me to smile and to be happy - something I haven’t experienced in a long time. Once our laughter subsides, she slightly turns her body, rearranging herself to get more comfortable. “Tell me more about this movie they’re making on your book.”

  I unwrap my arm from her waist, and instead grab hold of her hand. “I’m still reeling over the fact they want to make one. I just found out last month.”

  “Must be very exciting.”

  “Exciting is an understatement.” I look down at our combined fingers, and rub my thumb across her smooth hand. “I had never imagined my first book getting that much attention.”

  “Why not? It was a fantastic story.”

  Her enthusiasm means everything to me. I’m still blown away my books have affected so many people. “Thanks. I’m glad you liked it.

  “Liked it? Now that’s an understatement. I loved it. More than loved it. I love all your books.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be sure to give you all of them in hardback and signed.”

  “That would be great,” she exclaims with an infectious smile. “So will you be involved much with the production?”

  I nod, while taking a drink of my wine. “I hope to be involved as much as they’ll allow me. Hollywood tends to screw up so many amazing books. I don’t want that to happen to mine, and for the fans to hate it. But we’ll see what happens. They start production in a few months.” I’m done talking about myself, and want to get know more about this stunning woman next to me. “I’d like to know a little more about you. How about siblings? Parents?”

  “Well…I have one younger brother, Laith. He’s in his third year at Cal Poly, in San Luis Obispo. He’s very much into graphic arts, photography, anything to do with designing.”

  “Impressive. Sounds like he’s got a great future.”

  “He does. He already designs book covers, and takes amazing pictures. His talent astounds me. I’d love for you to see his work some time.”

  “Sure, that’d be great.”

  She smiles, and then takes another sip of her wine. The goblet is almost empty, yet I’m hoping our evening won’t end after it’s gone. She continues talking about her family. “My parents are just your ordinary, loving, all around good people. My dad is a handyman. He builds and sells his own furniture. His work is extraordinary. Some of the most beautiful furniture I have ever seen.”

  “The way you describe it, sounds quite amazing.” Her eyes light up from my excitement. “What about your mom?”

  “She stayed home with us while growing up. My dad’s business has always done very well. She never had to worry about working outside the home. But since we’re no longer living at home, she started knitting blankets and other things, and sells them on Etsy.”

  “Such a creative family you have, Paige. I hope I get to meet them one day.” She blushes and tries to hide it by drinking the last drop of her wine.

  She becomes quiet when she notices the restaurant is empty. We’re the last two people here. “I think we closed the place down,” she mentions.

  “I think you’re right.” I lightly laugh. I’ve had such a wonderful time with her tonight, time simply didn’t exist. “Come, let’s get going.” After she grabs her purse, I again take hold of her hand and lead us back to the car. We become quiet, as we get closer. For the life of me, I’m not ready to take her home. I feel this night shouldn’t end. I don’t want it to. Before I open the passenger door for her, I swing her little body up against the car, and take control of the moment. I palm her beautiful face and connect our lips. In an instant, her arms wrap around my middle and she squeezes me. Good, God, I could take her right now. I hear a slight whimper as our tongues ravish each other and it only makes me deepen the kiss. She feels so good. The aftertaste of wine blending in with mine does crazy things down below. Our bodies melt into one as we continue kissing. I bite, and suckle that bottom lip of hers, I’m not so sure I’ll ever have enough of her. I could do this forever.

  My eyes stay closed, our noses touch, and our lips slightly disconnect when I breathe out and tell her, “Come back to my place. I’m not ready to let you go just yet. Please.” Our breathing and the beating of our hearts are all that I’m hearing. I pray she comes home with me.

  As I keep my hands cradling her face, she brings her hands up, and wraps them around my wrists. Her breath lands on my lips when she answers back, “I’m not sure…this is going way too fast.”

  As much as I want to take her to my bed, I don’t want to scare her off. I want to do this right. If she’s not ready, then I’ll wait as long as need be. Kissing her lightly on the lips I say, “I promise, if you’re not ready, we won’t do anything but talk.”

  “That’s the problem. I don’t think I’m going to want to just talk.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?”

  “Very.” She nods. Looking up into my eyes, I see the hesitance, yet I feel the fire between us. “My body is reacting faster than my brain. It has a mind of its own, and if I go with you, I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop myself.”

  “Then don’t stop,” I whisper. My hands move away from her face, and travel down to her hips, pulling her forward against my body, and kissing her once again. She moans inside my mouth and immediately snakes her hands behind my head, deepening the kiss. No doubt, she wants this as much as I do. Once our lips part, our foreheads remain touching. “I’m not ready for this night to be over.”

  She sighs, “Don’t you have to be up early for the airport?”

  “I’m an early riser anyways. And a night owl.” I smirk.

  “James–– ”

  I cut her off by placing my finger on her lips. “Don’t make me beg. Come back to my suite.” What happened with letting this ride out and not wanting to scare her off? Pressuring her is the last thing I want, but my gut is telling me to not let her get away. Once I’m on that plane, who knows when we’ll see each other next? With all my signings, and TV appearances it could be a month before she’s in my arms again.

  It takes her a minute before she gives in. “Let me text Lynn. I don’t want her worrying about me.” A wave of relief washes over me. I’m hoping this is the beginning of something unforgettable.

  The drive to my hotel, Montgomery Suites, is a quiet one, yet my thoughts are on full blast. After two years of wanting to be this close to Paige, I cannot believe it’s actually happening. What I want to do more than anything is to sink inside her body and treasure every inch of her until she can no longer imagine life without me. Being this drawn to a woman, for the first time ever, has turned me into someone I don’t recognize anymore. To be honest, I don’t know if it’s a good thing. The last thing I want to be is an over obsessed lunatic, preying on his victim. I don’t want to be like my serial madman in Minus. Sadly, there is a piece of me in every villain that I have created. Somewhere, deep inside my soul is a dark and dangerous
man. I know I wouldn’t act on anything I write in my books, but the obsession - once sought out - is there…and clearly I’m not going to dismiss it - my heart won’t allow me to.

  “You want anything to drink? Water, wine,” I ask, when we walk inside my suite.

  “I’m good, thanks.” She takes off her sweater and lays it over the top of the couch, then proceeds to walk toward the massive window that looks outside. Just above the many aligned buildings is the ocean. It’s barely noticeable, but you can see the moon radiating its light through each ripple of the waves.

  Quietly, I walk up behind her, placing my hands on her shoulders. “I had my brother specifically ask for a room with a view of the ocean.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “It is.” Pushing her hair aside from the back of her neck, I kiss her warm skin and continue talking. “I’m not a fan of rooms without something to look at. I need to feel like there is life out there. Some people may call me high maintenance, but I love nice things. And being a writer, I thrive on beautiful sceneries as well as custom built, comfortable chairs that I can sit in as I write.”

  She cocks her head as I continue kissing her. When she speaks it’s breathy and calm. “Your stories are dark and dreary, so it only makes sense for you to want to see beautiful things. As for the custom built furniture? Who wouldn’t want that? You’re talking to someone who grew up in a house with custom built tables, chairs and beds. So, I definitely can relate to wanting nice things.”

  This woman…damn. If she didn’t just say the most perfect thing. We think so much alike, and I assume, want mostly, all the same things in life. After a few seconds of ravishing her skin and not speaking, I murmur out, “You’re so beautiful, so sexy.” Her skin feels heavenly on my tongue. Everything about her screams beauty, and I want a taste of it all. I can hear her breathing escalating as I continue kissing her neck.

  I start to untuck the blouse from her skirt, and try to inch my fingers up inside, when she braces herself. Slowly, she pushes away from the window and then turns around to face me, placing her palms on my chest. She’s much shorter than most of the women I have been with. Paige is petite, with a great set of hips and a pair of long legs that would feel sublime around my waist as I make love to her. Once again, my head is in the gutter. But I can’t help it. She’s brings out the animal inside of me, and this animal is aching to take her right here, right now. Fast. Hard. All night long.

  However, I can tell she’s uncertain with our situation. “It’s been a really long time, James…since I’ve slept with a man. Last person was my husband.”

  I tilt her chin up. “I understand. I’ll be gentle.”

  “I don’t want gentle,” she clips at me like she’s irritated. “I don’t need it. I’m just…I’m overwhelmed.”

  Her furrowed brows and slight temper concerns me. She’s not the only one who’s overwhelmed and confused. “Hey…it’s okay. I’m overwhelmed too.” The first time we laid eyes on one another

  I was blown away by our connection. Only three days, and I feel I have known her my entire life.

  “I don’t think you get it,” she says shaking her head. “I just don’t see how this relationship could work. First of all, you don’t live here, second, you travel all the time for your books––”

  Without even thinking I raise my voice and blurt out, “I’m not your God damn husband, alright? I would never leave you without a moment’s notice. That’s not who I am.” As if I set her on fire, Paige backs away from me. I opened my big mouth setting off her curiosity about how I knew this minor detail about her late husband.

  She crosses her arms, completely dumbfounded, and is clearly confused. “How…?”

  Realizing what I have done, I strike a hand through my hair, and then settle my hands on my hips. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice.” How the hell will I get myself out of this? I screwed everything up!

  “There’s something you’re not telling me,” she states suspiciously. “I never told you a single thing about my marriage. So tell me…how did you know that he left me all the time, without a moment’s notice…as you so called it?”

  What the hell am I going to tell her? She can’t know the real reason - not yet. So without giving her all the facts, I tell her, “I came upon some articles about your husband when I searched for your store website. I was very much interested in knowing more about it, and possibly make a private donation, but I had no idea I’d end up seeing those articles.” This is actually true…in a sense. I really did want to make a donation, but those damn articles popped up because of her last name, Turner.

  She puts her hand up to her mouth, looking like she’s trying hard not to cry. The tears are forming, and beginning to glaze over her beautiful brown eyes. Wanting to have her back in my arms, I take a step forward. But she won’t have it, and instead, moves around me, very standoffish. “Look, Paige, it wasn’t intentional, and you’re probably thinking I really am some kind of stalker, but I’m not.”

  Turning around to face me, I’m afraid she’s going to dump me before we ever get the chance at a real relationship. What the hell was I thinking bringing her husband into the mix? I’m such a jackass. “I know it wasn’t intentional,” she hoarsely replies. “I just wasn’t ready to tell you, that’s all.” She wipes the corners of both her eyes, and then walks back over to the window.

  “And you don’t have to tell me anything else. Not until you’re ready.” I follow along right behind her, and instantly wrap my arms around her waist. She doesn’t try to get out of my hold, thank God.

  “Thank you,” she whispers.

  Already knowing what kind of dirtbag Glen was, I won’t pressure her to talk about him. Instead, kissing her again is all I can think about. So I gently turn her back around, cup her face, bend down and take hold of those amazing lips of hers and kiss the hell out of her. I’ll do anything to wash away her pain, therefore making it my life’s goal to bring her the happiness she deserves.

  “I didn’t mean to bring up the past, Paige. I truly am sorry,” I whisper against her lips.

  Dropping her forehead onto my chest, she says, “It’s not your fault. But I don’t think I can do this, James. I’m just not ready. So, please, I need you take me home.”

  “Of course. Anything you want.”

  Though this may have ended without her in my arms all night, it’s not the last time she’ll see of me. And whether or not she knows this…she has my heart…indefinitely.

  Minus by J.D. Parker

  “The whimpers coming out of the new girl makes me shudder. I literally feel her fears and begin to weep all over again. I’m hungry, cold, scared and desperately want to go home, but I have a terrifying feeling that this is the last place I’ll ever see before I die. My life is coming to an end, whether or not I want it to. This crazy person is making that decision for me.

  Last week I almost ended my life on my own, but then the unthinkable happened. I was snatched away and placed in a smelly vehicle with a bag over my head. I should be grateful to this person, because now I don’t have to kill myself. He’s going to do it for me.”

  Besides the little mishap about James finding out about how Glen had died, spending the evening with him was one of the best nights of my life since I’d been widowed. Even though the night may not have ended sleeping with each other, he still made me feel cherished, beautiful, and most off all, happy. But, do I see a future with him? How will it work between us with him on the road so much? The questions and the unknown are conflicting.

  When he dropped me off at home, it was hard to say goodbye. We kissed the entire time trying to part ways. I loved the way his lips felt on mine. Every time he kisses me it’s full of passion, excitement, and affection, it’s almost as if he’s making love to me. He is unforgettable. Unfortunately, it had to end and after several minutes I had to push away, exit his car and go inside my house. Hearing his car drive away immediately brought emptiness inside my heart. It’s been so l
ong since I have felt this way. I’m beginning to think it’s too soon to be so drawn to him so quickly. Like in a blink of an eye, my wounds from the death of my husband are nothing more than scar tissue, and my heart is once again beating for another man. It’s all very confusing, yet I love the fact that there is someone out there who is as drawn to me as I am to them.

  The next morning, after taking a much needed hot shower, I find a sweet text from James: “Missing those brownies of yours already. XO.” Brownies. I love it. From just this one simple text, my heart starts to beat erratically. What he does to me is unexplainable. I’m so worried I’m going to be disappointed. The future’s very unpredictable, I have to try and not become so attached to him. However, the more I think about those hot lips on mine all that nonsense goes out the window. I’m so totally infatuated, and attached to him like white on rice, it’s crazy!

  With only a towel wrapped around my body, the slightest smile creeps up on my face as I walk into the kitchen. Daydreaming about last night, I take out two mugs from the cupboard and begin pouring myself some coffee. Just as I’m about to take my first sip, Lynn comes swaying in and grabs the mug right out of my hand. She moans in delight as she drinks the blackened brew. What a brat! Whatever, I didn’t want that mug in the first place. I reach for the other mug, and proceed pouring a cup for myself.

  Lynn just came back from her daily run. Her skin and running clothes are damp and I want to tell her she reeks, but she jumps me to it by asking, “You didn’t stay the night, huh?” She smirks, leaning her butt against the kitchen island with the mug up to her lips.

  Finally, after taking my first sip I tell her, “No.”

 

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