Out Of Line

Home > Other > Out Of Line > Page 9
Out Of Line Page 9

by Jen McLaughlin


  Fine. Neither did I.

  He flipped through the titles and then hovered over a movie. “The Hangover?”

  “What’s it about?”

  He stared at me as if I had sprouted horns or something equally appalling. “You’ve never heard of it?”

  “My father didn’t like me going to the movies. He didn’t like movies in general. Said they were nothing but goop for the mind. I snuck into one once, but got dragged out halfway through.” Why did all of my stories end with “and I got dragged out?” Geez. Maybe I should see a therapist or something. Or become one so I could talk to myself about my messed-up childhood. I read the blurb on the TV. “And judging from the description and rating, he definitely wouldn’t have wanted me to watch this.”

  He shook his head and selected the title. “Oh, Ginger, you don’t know what you’ve been missing.”

  “Why don’t you show me?” I asked, issuing a challenge I knew he wouldn’t accept. “All of it.”

  His mouth clamped down tight. “Don’t tempt me.”

  “Maybe I like tempting you.”

  “No, you really don’t. Now knock it off, or I’ll show you what I do with annoying women who don’t know when to stop.”

  Was it wrong I wanted to find out exactly what that was?

  And was it just me, or was it hot in here? I took another drink, set my beer down, and pulled my oversized sweatshirt off. Avoiding his eyes, I flung it across the room to my bag. Even though I wore a tight black camisole tank underneath, I felt indecently exposed. What if he thought I was trying to seduce him or something?

  Was I trying to seduce him…or something?

  As I smoothed my hair with my hand, I stole a quick glance his way. He watched me with hooded eyes. Eyes that saw things I didn’t think I wanted him to see. Standing up, I walked to my bag and dug out my pink shorts I’d brought to sleep in. Shorts that seemed way too short now, but that’s what I always wore to bed. Shorts and a tank top.

  Why should I let it bother me now? After all, we were just friends.

  Lifting my chin, I squeezed past his outstretched legs, brushing against his thigh as I passed. He stiffened and clung to his armrest, his knuckles white. “What are you doing?”

  “Changing into comfy clothes.” I grabbed the waistband of my pants, preparing to strip down behind him. “Don’t turn around. I’m doing it behind you.”

  He cleared his throat. “Let me guess. Your ‘comfy clothes’ are the tiny shorts you’re holding and the tank top you’re wearing?”

  “Mmhm.”

  He dropped his head back against the chair. “Fucking fabulous.”

  “If you say so.” I stepped out of my pants, feeling out of place in his apartment. It was the first time I stood in nothing but my underwear in front of a guy, and he wasn’t even looking. Didn’t even want to look. “Do you have a problem with my pajamas?”

  “No. Not at all.” He adjusted himself on the chair and paused the movie at the starting sequence. “But I’m gonna need another drink before we start. Let me know when you’re dressed.”

  I slid my shorts up my legs slowly, enjoying the freeing sensation I felt at being half naked with him in the same room. “You’re good to go.”

  He stood up and turned around hesitantly. Almost as if he was afraid I’d lied about being dressed. His gaze ran over me, sending liquid heat flying through my veins. Why was it that he set me on fire just by looking at me, and Cory didn’t even make me the slightest bit warm?

  Without a word, he emptied his beer. My full one sat on the table untouched. He gave me a dark look and walked past me toward the kitchen, his stance rigid. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  I settled down into the corner of the couch, stretching my legs out in front of me, and picked up my own drink. When he came back out, two beers in hand, he set them down and headed for the bed. “I still have a whole beer,” I said.

  “Then I’ll drink them both.”

  “Okay…”

  Reaching out, he ripped the blue quilt off and came back to the couch. He spread it out over my legs and settled down next to me. After removing his shirt, he tucked himself in before he hit play. So he was cold…but he took off his shirt. That was a contradiction if I’d ever seen one. “There. All settled.”

  “Are you cold?”

  “Yeah. Sure. Freezing,” he mumbled, taking another swig of his beer.

  A thin sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead almost instantly after getting under the blanket. “You don’t look cold,” I said, unable to stop myself from commenting on his strange behavior.

  He sighed. “For once, stop questioning everything I do.”

  He lifted his beer to his lips, his brooding stare never leaving the screen. Though I would have rather spent the night watching him watch the movie, I forced myself to pay attention to the antics on screen. And within seconds, I was laughing hysterically.

  When I looked over at him about halfway through the movie, he was watching me with a smile. I froze mid-laugh, my heartbeat increasing when our gazes clashed. Maybe it was the way he was looking at me that sent a surge of heat through my veins. He watched me as if…

  As if he’d rather be watching me than the movie.

  The next morning, the first thing I noticed was the sun shining through the slats of the living room blinds. The second thing I became aware of was the warm body pressed against mine. My hand rested on the curve of her hip, and my hard cock was touching her soft ass. There was no question as to whose ass I spooned.

  Carrie.

  We must have fallen asleep during the last movie we’d been watching. What had it been? Something about a haunted house. Carrie had gotten scared, so I’d thrown my arm over her and cuddled her. Apparently, I had proceeded to cuddle her all fucking night long. She stirred in my arms, wiggling her ass. I gritted my teeth and pushed closer, unable to resist. She let out a soft moan and rubbed against me in her sleep. Fuck. If she kept that up, I’d forget all about the rules and stipulations.

  Hell, I might just forget them now and blame it on my foggy head. I dropped a kiss to the spot where her shoulder and neck met, then nibbled lightly. She tasted good. So good that I decided to move an inch to the left and taste her there too. Even better.

  She let out a soft moan and rubbed against my cock, making me moan. Fuck me. I shouldn’t have started this, but now I couldn’t stop. I bit down on her shoulder again and palmed her ass. I squeezed hard, acquainting myself with how perfectly she fit in my hand. She should be mine, no matter what her father would say.

  She was mine, even if she couldn’t be.

  Her head rolled toward me, and I held my breath. Had I woken her up? I studied her face for any signs of her being out of dreamland, but she didn’t move. She just crinkled her nose and let out a sigh. I gently removed my hand from her ass and ran it down her cheek, memorizing how peaceful she looked when she slept. It was the only time I’d get to see it, so I didn’t want to miss a fucking detail.

  When my hand slid down her throat, she arched her back and moaned something that sounded a hell of a lot like my name. I froze, my heart racing, and looked up at her again. Still asleep…but she kept squirming. As if…

  As if she wanted more, even in her sleep. I let my hand slide over the curve of her breasts, lightly tracing over her perky nipple. Seeing that she was turned on by what I did sent pure need slamming into my gut. I rolled her nipple between my thumb and forefinger, tugging just enough to pleasure her.

  While I played with her perfect breast, she drew in a ragged breath and moaned my name. This time I heard it. She was fucking dreaming about me as I touched her. That was too much for me to let go of. I knew I should stop. Knew I should get my hands off her, but she needed me as much as I needed her.

  Slowly, I slid my hand down her stoma
ch. When I reached her waistband, I pressed my lips to hers, unable to resist a kiss. I kept it light. Almost nonexistent. But even so, she moaned and stirred in my arms. Damn it all to hell…she was waking up. I didn’t know whether to be happy or pissed about that.

  I pulled back and moved my hand to her flat stomach before she knew what I’d done. She may expect more out of me than I could give, and I couldn’t have that. Her eyes fluttered open, her lids heavy with sleep. “Finn?”

  “Sh.” I pressed a finger to her mouth, wishing she hadn’t woken up yet. Now I had to stop kissing her, even though I didn’t want to. “It’s all a dream.”

  She licked her lips, and her tongue ran along my finger, hot and moist. The sight of her pink tongue on my skin was almost enough for me to stop giving a damn. I wanted to press my mouth to hers again. Take her. Keep her.

  “No, it’s not,” she argued.

  “You always fight me.”

  Her lips quirked. “You always say stupid things.”

  I laughed and forced myself to stand up. To let go. “Get ready. We have a tide to catch. Get dressed out here. I’ll get ready in the bathroom.”

  I headed across the room, grabbing my bathing suit along the way. Thanks to my morning make out session, I now sported a hard-on that I wouldn’t be able to hide from her. I’d need a few minutes to myself before I was fit for polite company.

  An hour and a half later, I watched Carrie ride the wave I’d sent her out on. She stood on the surfboard, her arms stretched out precariously, grinning with pride as she rode the tiny wave I told her to take. I was probably wearing an even stupider, bigger grin than she was. Miraculously enough, she was starting to get the hang of surfing, and it had only taken a tiny bit of practice.

  She was a natural.

  Too bad I wasn’t a natural at this spy business. Every second spent in her company blurred the lines between friendship and assignment more and more. And every time we were together, it got harder and harder to remember all the reasons I shouldn’t when all the reasons I should were staring me back in the face. Like right now. She was everything I would have hoped for in a girlfriend, and then some.

  Kind. Giving. Adventurous. Never afraid to try something new.

  And I wasn’t allowed to have her.

  She tumbled into the water, and I hastily dove for her wrist. She could come up on her own, obviously, but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t do anything while she struggled to get to the surface. Eh, who was I trying to kid? I didn’t find her because I had to, I found her because I had to make sure she was okay. For me—not the senator.

  Hauling her up to the surface, I said, “Got you.”

  She spluttered and swiped her red, drenched hair out of her face. “Did you see that? I had it!”

  “You did.” I couldn’t help it. I grinned with pride again. She was an excellent student, and I was having fun playing the part of teacher. “Soon you won’t need my help to catch a wave.”

  “I wanna go again,” she said, struggling to get back up on her board.

  Though I wanted to refuse, to drag her to the shore where she could rest up a bit, I couldn’t find the heart to make her leave. I could feel the excitement bouncing off her, and I couldn’t make her stop now. In fact, I reached out and hauled her onto the board by the back of her wetsuit, then helped her paddle back out to the open water.

  Once we reached the optimum surf point, I stopped dragging her, and instead dragged a hand through my damp hair. I hadn’t been surfing today. Just supervising. And yet, I didn’t give a damn. Normally, I’d be itching to catch a wave myself, but watching her have fun seemed to be enough for me.

  She squeezed her hair tight and lifted her face to the sky, letting out a contented sigh. “I never thought I’d have so much fun doing something like this.”

  “Me either,” I said before thinking it through. Then again, I hadn’t expected to have fun watching her surf. But I did. “I mean, surfing isn’t for everyone. I’m glad you like it so much.”

  “I really do,” she said, staring off toward the shore.

  I scanned the beach, watching all the tiny people walk around. One in particular caught my eye. She wore a green shirt I’d swear I saw Carrie wear last week. “Uh, Carrie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Did you leave a shirt out there?”

  She blinked at me. “No…why?”

  “I see a girl wearing your shirt. I recognize it. It’s the one you wore to the soup kitchen last week. I made fun of the color and you said—”

  “That green was the luckiest color in the world.” She put her hand above her forehead and squinted. “Yeah. That’s mine.”

  “Why is she wearing it?”

  Carrie dropped her hand and fidgeted with nothing at all. “Every once in a while, I put a box of clothes in the dorm. Anonymously.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I have too many.”

  I shook my head. “Every time I think I know everything there is to know about your giving nature, I discover something new.”

  Her cheeks went red. “It’s nothing.” She squinted at the shore. “Oh look. Cory’s out there.”

  I stiffened. She and Cory had been spending more and more time together during the week, and that was all well and fucking dandy. But the weekend was supposed to be my time. It wasn’t written down and signed in blood or anything, but it had become our thing, and I didn’t feel like fucking sharing. “Why’s he here?”

  “What time is it?” she asked.

  I looked at my watch. “Ten-thirty.”

  “Shit. I was supposed to meet up with him at ten. I totally forgot. It’s so easy to lose track of the time out here, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it is.” I cleared my throat. “I didn’t know you had any other plans today.”

  “It came up last night. Cory needs tutoring in anatomy, and I offered to help him today.” She dipped her fingers into the water. “I told him we’d meet up after surfing, but I guess when I didn’t show up, he came looking for me.”

  “Smart guy like that shouldn’t need help in anatomy,” I mumbled. “Then again, guys like him always do.”

  She shot me a look that suggested she wondered if she’d misheard. “Are you upset? I know we normally hang out after surfing, but we have a big test Monday, and I wanted—”

  “I’m not upset,” I said, shaking my head at her as if I was amused by the mere idea. But I was upset. This was my day, not Golden Boy’s. “Now get ready, Ginger. Here comes a good one.”

  She waved erratically, and Cory waved back. Looking over her shoulder, she started paddling in front of the wave. “See ya at the shore.”

  “I’ll be right behind you.”

  And I would. There was an even bigger wave coming behind hers, and I could ride it out and meet her at the beach. First real wave I would ride all day. As she took off with the baby wave I sent her on, I watched her safely ride it to shore. Once she made it without wiping out, I readied myself for my own ride. As I rode it, slicing in and out with expert precision, I tried not to watch Carrie as she made her way over to Cory on the beach. Once I hit the sand, I purposely took my time walking over to them, watching from a safe distance. She started taking off her wetsuit, and Cory practically convulsed right then and there on the beach.

  What a fucking newbie.

  He wouldn’t know what to do with Carrie if he got her. Carrie deserved someone more experienced. Someone who would know how to make her scream out in pleasure and wouldn’t completely miss her clit while going down on her. Someone like…me.

  I walked up behind Carrie and started stripping. “Hey,” I said, nodding at Cory. “What’s up?”

  Cory ripped his eyes from Carrie’s sleek body for all of two seconds to nod in my direction. “Hello. Nice surf out the
re, huh?”

  “Not too bad.” I threw my wetsuit on the sand and shook my hair in Cory’s direction, spraying both Cory and Carrie. Carrie laughed, but Cory gave me a death glare and brushed his hands over his dampened Oxford shirt. “Oops. Sorry.”

  “No worries,” Cory said, smiling, but his attention was still on Carrie’s body. Didn’t she see the way Cory ogled her? Did she know how much the boy wanted more from her than mere studying?

  Or, my inner voice whispered, maybe she knew it and liked it.

  “You should go surfing with us sometime,” Carrie said, her voice muffled from under her short blue sundress she was pulling over her head. “It’s so much fun.”

  I snorted. “I don’t think Cory is the surfing type.”

  “I beg your pardon.” Cory looked down his nose at me, and I stiffened. “I don’t expect someone like you to know what I do or do not like, thank you, so kindly refrain from voicing your opinions.”

  Oh, hell no. No one looked at me like I was gum stuck to the bottom of their shoe and walked away without getting well acquainted with my knuckles. Not since kindergarten. I tightened my fists and advanced on the little fucker. “Oh yeah? Want to know what I do know?”

  “No.” Carrie pressed a hand to my chest and I stopped. Just like that. The girl held way too much power over me. “I don’t think Cory meant that as an insult. Did you, Cory?”

  “Of course not.” Cory smiled again, just as falsely as the last time. I still wanted to punch him, just as strongly as the last time. “No harm meant, man.”

  “My name’s Finn. Not man.”

  I looked down at Carrie’s hand, which still rested on my chest. My heart sped up at the sight of it, and my vivid imagination ran wild. I pictured her with her hand on my chest, but it wasn’t innocent. No, it was while I drove her insane with need. My body buried deep inside hers as she cried out my name over and over again.

 

‹ Prev