by Mia Kayla
The moment I had introduced Josh to my coworkers, they started chatting it up, and Josh being Josh, he was making the table laugh.
For a brief second, a second I wanted to take away, I thought of Hawke. If I had brought him tonight, it would’ve been a totally different experience. He’d have been more reserved, standoffish. Not on purpose, but he wasn’t comfortable around people who weren’t his in-crowd, people who didn’t know him.
I blew out a breath as I watched Josh cracking up so hard, he was holding his stomach.
If Hawke had come with me, the whole wedding would’ve revolved around him. I could imagine everyone begging for his autograph. Instead of taking pictures of the bride, they’d have been taking pictures of the famous rock star.
“Sammy!”
I looked up to see Candice behind me, carrying her train in one hand. Her new husband trailed behind her. I stood, strolled toward her, and gave my girlie pie the biggest soul-crushing sous-chef-to-sous-chef hug. Then, I pulled back to take her in.
At the church and from far away, I could only get glimpses of her, but now, up close, I realized she looked absolutely breathtaking. “You look so beautiful. And this place…this reception”—I swept my hand around the room—“is so you.” I motioned to Jerry. “And you, too, of course.”
I jumped into another hug, and she squeezed me back equally hard.
“Who is the hottie?” she said, peering over me.
“That’s Josh.” I quirked an eyebrow.
Of course I’d known Josh long enough that all my coworkers had heard his name being thrown around here and there.
“That is Josh?” She fanned herself. “Talk about J.Crew rolled into one tall, dark, and handsome.”
I playfully slapped Candice’s arm. Her husband was one step away from her.
Jerry cleared his throat. “Hey, Sam.” He smiled warmly.
“Oh, please. He knows me well enough by now to know that I truly only have eyes for him.” Candice slipped her hand through his arm and tiptoed to kiss him on the lips. “Anyway, are you going to introduce me? Are you two dating?”
“I don’t know.” Because I didn’t. All I knew was that we were starting to feel like more than friends.
She released her husband and grabbed my hand. She was heading right where I’d expected her to—straight to my table and Josh.
“No!” I tugged her back, stopping mid step. “Don’t embarrass me, Candice!”
When Josh saw the woman in a white dress and her husband coming over, he stood. “Hey,” he said, sticking out his hand. “Congrats.”
Candice pulled him into a hug. “I’m a hugger today because I’m the bride. I’m Candice.” She stepped back and smiled, showing off her Crest strip whites.
“I’m Josh.”
“I know.” She laughed.
I already felt a blush climbing up my cheeks.
“I’ve heard your name a handful of times. So”—she clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth—“what’s going on between you two?” She motioned between Josh and me with her pointer finger.
I swore, my face burned as bright as the red bows on my black pumps.
“Candice!” I swatted at her hand, and she swatted me right back.
Throwing an arm over my shoulder, she pulled me in by my neck. “See this chick right here?” She tilted her head to touch mine. “She’s way too good for rock stars, so whatever you’re doing, you’d better have good intentions. So, what’s going on here?”
A dimple emerged on Josh’s cheek. His look turned serious, as though he were contemplating his next words. Then, he said tenderly, “She’s my girl. I’m just waiting for her to realize that.”
“Good answer, Josh. Good answer.”
My eyes locked with his, brown to brown, but his were a darker shade while mine were a flat color. The longer he stared at me, the more my heart fluttered wildly in my chest.
The DJ interrupted our gaze, announcing the first dance with Candice and Jerry.
Candice turned to walk toward the dance floor but not before she gave Josh a fake death stare. “But I’m watching you. So, don’t mess up, buddy.”
“At Last” by Etta James cooed through the speakers. Jerry extended his hand, and Candice took it, curtsying in her Southern way. While they danced, Josh stepped toward me, but I focused on the newlyweds, trying to calm the heat emanating from my cheeks.
He moved into my line of sight, and I played it off as coolly as I could. “So, I’m your girl now?”
He rubbed his jaw, his look thoughtful. “You’ve been my girl since the day I slipped that glass slipper onto your foot. You’ve just been slow on the uptake.” He shrugged, giving me a sweet smile that almost broke my heart.
“Your lines,” I said, playing it off, as I shook my head. The back of my hand flew to the top of my forehead. “I can’t take the lines anymore. It’s just too much,” I cooed in an exaggerated tone. “Your dimples and your rock-hard body and your lines.” I leaned back in a pretend faint moment.
Now, it was his turn to turn red.
He pulled my hand down and held it between us. “Rock-hard body, huh?”
My pulse leaped at the electricity that surged between us, the softness of his fingers stroking the side of my wrist, the scent of his masculine cologne filling my senses. My breathing slowed, and my lips parted at his proximity.
I gulped. Barely keeping my voice even, I said, “It’s hard not to notice when you’re always strolling into my apartment after basketball, shirtless and a hot, sweaty mess.”
He swallowed hard this time, his eyes piercing mine. “Maybe it looks rock hard, but you can’t tell until you touch it.” He tugged me forward, placing my hand on the top of his button-down.
My hands moistened, and a delightful shiver coursed through my veins. For the first time, I yearned to touch him. My hand dropped lower from his chest, trailing down to his abdomen.
His lips parted, and he held his breath. He stared at me with an intensity that seared through me.
“Josh,” I whispered.
A fast song broke our quiet connection, and before I knew what was happening, a blur of white was dragging me to the dance floor, forcing me to dance to Justin Timberlake. Candice’s smile overrode everyone else’s in the room. Happiness exuded from her every pore as she belted out Justin’s lyrics and took my hands, swinging them to the beat of the bass.
I turned around, and my gaze locked with Josh’s. In one hand, he held a beer bottle as he chatted it up with my coworkers, Jim and Todd. The great thing about Josh was that he was social. I didn’t feel the need to see if he was okay because I knew he was.
When a medley of Michael Jackson’s songs came through the speakers, Josh swaggered over to the dance floor, curling one finger in a come-hither motion. I laughed as he flicked his foot back and forth in a signature Michael move.
“Let’s dance, beautiful.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t think so.”
Ignoring me, he gripped my hand and tugged us to the middle of the dance floor. His hands fell to my hips as he swayed them to the music, and I laughed at his antics.
He was no singer, and his voice was horrendous, but he was belting out Michael Jackson like he was the famous singer himself. I stepped back and watched in awe as he started to moonwalk. Within a few seconds, a crowd formed around him, cheering him on. He did the pelvic thrust in the middle of the circle, and I laughed so hard, I might have peed a little.
Josh sang Beat It, using his fist as his mic.
He sang loud and proud like he was giving his own personal concert. He ended his performance with one hand on his pelvis while his other hand flew to tip down his head.
The people around us roared to a deafening cheer, and then he bowed in the cutest Josh way. When he approached me, he was breathless, and I clapped my hands, thoroughly entertained.
“Bravo! You can be on So You Think You Can Dance, but don’t try out for The Voice anytime soon.”
He laughed, and the tune c
hanged, a slow melody playing in the background. I recognized the artist belting out her soulful tunes in “Make You Feel My Love.” It was Adele.
A dimple flashed on his cheek, and when he stopped a few steps in front of me, he held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”
It reminded me of prom, the way he extended his hand in a gentlemanlike gesture. And, in grade school fashion, my heart pitter-pattered in my chest.
We’d held hands, almost everyday, yet I was nervous to hold his hand this time. When he took another step forward, the fluttering in my chest intensified at his proximity.
I scrunched up my face. “I don’t dance,” I joked.
“Liar.” Both of his boyish dimples were on display.
And, when I placed my hand in his, an electric current passed through me. The air shifted between us as our eyes locked. The familiar longing spread through his features, but what was different was my mirrored look of desire that reflected through his eyes.
He intertwined our fingers, bringing me closer. Slowly, his fingers flexed and wrapped around my hand. He pulled me into him and wrapped his arms around me in a tight vise until we were nearly one. My softness pushed against his hardness, and I rested my head against his chest. He smelled like his aftershave, cologne, and all man.
Josh’s hold was all-consuming. Every nerve in my body was on edge as we swayed to the soulful melody of Adele. I had a strong awareness of our bodies pressing together, our joined hands against his heart and his free hand on the small of my back.
After a moment, my eyes fell shut, and all my senses heightened. It was like when you disabled sight, your sense of hearing, sound, and touch intensified.
The thump of his heart warmed my hand, the scent of his aftershave wafting into my nose. His uneven hot breaths brushed against my cheek, sending goose bumps to travel down my neck. His fingertips branded themselves against my hip, tightened, and brought me closer, flush against his lean, hard body. He held me as if he were never going to let me go.
For a moment, just a moment, we were the only ones in the room. Like we were in a slow globe and everyone else was looking in.
A soft exhale escaped from his lips. With his light fingertips, he lifted my chin. I opened my eyes and stared into the warmth, the brown reminding me of a dark chocolate river, endless and inviting.
His eyes flickered to my lips, and my insides quivered with want and fear because here I was again, the girl who’d fallen too deeply.
Maybe I was already where he was. Maybe Chloe had been right all along, and I’d been in denial because what I felt was so familiar—a deep-rooted ache in the center of my chest.
“I want to kiss you,” he breathed. He sucked in his bottom lip as the desire and longing in his eyes poured out of him.
“You never asked before.”
Because he never had. Not in the alley. Not before his so-called friendly kiss in front of Hawke.
“Because this time…this time is different.” His voice lowered, husky and serious. The one-liner goofy Josh was no longer present.
My breath caught in my throat at the adoring look in his eyes, as though I were the most beautiful and only woman in the universe. I swallowed hard at what I saw—the longing, the hunger, and most of all, the love.
He didn’t need to ask because there was no way I could deny him when I very much wanted the same thing.
I lifted my chin in answer, and once our lips connected, heat spread, radiating from my chest to the rest of my limbs.
His kiss was gentle, but it knocked the wind out of me. His kiss packed a punch like I had ever experienced. I melted into him, giving myself to the passion of his kiss.
He loved me. There was no doubt. He loved me with all of his being, and in that moment, in the silence, I knew I’d fallen for him, too. Fallen for his kindness, fallen for his truth, but most of all, fallen for his heart.
There was no denying the lightness in my limbs and the warmth in my chest, all caused from his arms and lips on me.
I was in love with Josh Stanton.
This was our first kiss, and I knew it was a kiss that would lead to forever.
Chapter 8
After that moment, it was like Josh had branded me for an eternity. His arms were pressed against my sides, caging me in, and we danced until we were the last ones standing. Even the bride and groom had left.
It was midnight when we hopped into his car. His lips met mine at every stoplight, every Stop sign, until he was parked in front of his apartment. His mouth covered mine with a deep-rooted hunger. We were connected by lips or hands or arms until we made our way into his place.
What had started as a slow-building love affair had accelerated into a fast-moving train ride that I had no doubt would end the night in an explosion of ecstasy.
His hands groped me through my dress as he led us to his bedroom, never breaking his hold. My body was on fire, my face flushed, my nipples pebbling and scraping against the inside of my bra.
I should stop it, press the brakes, but we had waited so long. And, as much as I sensed he needed me, I longed for him more.
After stepping out of my shoes, I slipped off his jacket and undid his tie. He pulled back, lust filling his hooded eyes. My fingers undid each and every button as our lips connected again. The delicious taste of him had wetness pooling between my legs.
His kisses slowed, becoming gentle and deliberate, and he pulled back and met my eyes, walking me backward to the bed. The way he studied me, it was as if he were committing every detail to memory.
“I’ve waited so long for this—for you,” he breathed.
His fingers dropped to my waist, the touch of his hand almost unbearable in tenderness. It was agonizing torture because my hunger for him was too much.
With his free hand, he brushed against my cheek, the light touch igniting me from the inside out. My heart was beating like a sledgehammer inside my chest.
My eyes fell shut, and his mouth made contact with mine. The kisses were sweet, innocent, reverent. They were different than the other times we’d kissed. He kissed me as if he were breathing life out of me and into himself.
His shaky finger trailed to the nape of my neck, down my shoulder, up to the back of my head, threading through my hair.
My insides were soaring as his tongue traced the fullness of my mouth before licking the seam of my lips. Our tongues collided, intertwining, and I moaned, rocking against him, feeling his hardness lengthen by my thigh.
Without breaking contact, he lifted me, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. My breathing accelerated as he kissed me deeply, digging his fingertips into the silk of my dress, which hugged me like an itchy barrier between us.
When he stilled and gently eased me onto the bed, he released our kiss. I peered up at him as he cupped the side of my cheek. There were a slew of emotions in his eyes—affection, passion, need—but one emotion that had me holding my breath was love.
“Sam…” My name was uttered with such adoration.
His eyes held a vulnerability in them, and I knew, if I crossed this line and it wasn’t permanent, his heart would break.
There was no going back. I had to be sure this was what I wanted.
But, looking into his eyes, I knew I wanted him. I wanted forever. I wasn’t made for rock stars and fantasies. I was a small-town girl. I craved stability and a love that would last a lifetime. Maybe I had tricked myself before, thinking that was what I wanted, but it wasn’t who I was at my core.
After one soft exhale, I closed the gap between us and kissed him. “I love you,” I said breathlessly because he had to know I felt the same.
His whole body melted into me, and I sensed his relief, as though that were all he’d been waiting for.
Then, my fingers moved to his waistband. One button and then two. But he stopped my hands and pulled back, his eyes smoldering. My insides shivered with nervousness. He had a strange look on his face, a look of carnal hunger. And, if I thought I had been breathless befor
e…I was even more now.
When I lifted my arms, he peeled my dress over my head, and I unbuttoned his pants. I couldn’t get his clothes off fast enough.
His eyes scoured my body, and his hands pressed at my waist. Then, he tenderly flattened his hard body against mine.
Lips on lips, fingers laced together, his chest against my chest.
Lightly, he skimmed my hips and eased my legs apart, and a whimper escaped me. I cradled him between my knees, and when I felt his hard length at my center, I bit my lip at the sensations coursing through my body, my nerves tingling.
I quivered as a slew of emotions passed through me—nervousness, excitement, impatience. But, when I stared into his eyes that melted my insides like chocolate sitting out in the sun, all the nervousness dissipated.
I wanted this. I wanted him.
After slipping on a condom, he entered me and I pulled at his neck until he met my lips. His movements were slow and deliberate at first but increased in pace.
“You feel so good,” he groaned.
My thoughts were fragmented, my voice gone, as my breathing became labored.
The turbulence of desire swirling around us had my body rippling with liquid fire. When the buildup was too much, I abandoned myself to the hot tide of passion ripping through me. His eyes found mine, and I knew he was ready. He drove into me one last time, and we were both hurtled to the stars, flying in total ecstasy.
My heart beat wildly against my chest. We waited until our breathing stabilized, and our pulses returned to a normal rate. I reveled in the silence as I basked in the warmth of his body and the love that bloomed in my chest.
After he lifted his head, he brushed his nose against mine.
“Hey,” he said as my eyes went half closed.
“Hey,” I replied, sleepy and fully satisfied.
“I’ve got a question to ask you.” His thumb caressed my cheek.
“Hmm?”
“What are you doing for the next eighty years?”
I laughed. “Why?”
“You know, because I just want to hang out,” he said sweetly. “If that’s okay.”
I lifted my head and kissed his lips. “That’s more than okay.”