Blame it on the Kiss

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Blame it on the Kiss Page 9

by Robin Bielman

Honor’s body had never betrayed her like this before. She couldn’t stop thinking about lying in the sand with Bryce. His mouth on hers. And when she did that, thoughts of having those sexy lips of his kiss every inch of her skin consumed her.

  That he also used said mouth to say nice things and help her at work caused her to suffer a constant state of arousal since he’d left her office two days ago. She glanced down. Yep, her nipples were hard and poking through her sweater. She needed a bra with armor stat.

  And her sense of rightness checked. She hadn’t uttered a single thought to Payton in days. Sweet plus sexy could not equal Bryce.

  “How do I stop on these things?” Shirley yelled, skating past the park bench Honor sat on in the middle of town.

  Honor fanned her sweater away from her chest. “Skate onto the grass,” she called. Shirley gave a thumbs-up as she coasted to a halt.

  Roll Into Work had been a huge success so far. Skaters had overtaken the bike lanes and sidewalks this morning, young and old alike taking part whether they had a workplace to go to or not. Honor had stopped at the supermarket to pick up bran muffins and fresh fruit for the mayor’s office, and several employees had left their skates on, skating around the aisles like they were in a grocery store derby and laughing the whole time.

  Shirley plopped down beside her. “I think I pulled a muscle.”

  “Ouch. Really?” Honor winced. “Would it help if I told you, you looked great skating?”

  “Enough about me.” Shirley tapped her arm. “Tell me about the hot stuff that came in to see you the other day.”

  “Hot stu—you mean Bryce?”

  “So that’s his name.”

  Crap. She’d just told TMZ’s most faithful watcher way too much. The clock on the bell tower chimed, drawing Honor’s eye to the time and the clear sky above. An airplane flew silently in the distance. Maybe by ring twelve Shirley would lose interest.

  Or pull a tongue muscle so she couldn’t talk.

  She did not just think that. Bad Honor. Was it even possible to injure your tongue like that?

  Maybe with Bryce—oh my god, she had to stop thinking about him like that. “Shouldn’t you be manning the front desk?” Honor asked sweetly.

  “I’m on my lunch break. Are you two dating?”

  Honor bit back a groan. Shirley and her band of gossip girls disguised as sweet little old ladies had known Honor her whole life. They meant well, but they wanted every young person married off. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Honor pressed two fingers to her temple. “It’s complicated.”

  Shirley put her hand on Honor’s knee. “He has a girlfriend?”

  No, but… “Something like that.” Not for the first time she wondered if giving in to her desires meant betraying Payton. Her best friend was gone. She and Bryce clicked. But even so, she couldn’t trust herself not to disappoint him somehow. Or do something to hurt him. And that thought bothered her more than having something that was once Pay’s.

  “Hey, H., Mrs. B.,” Cooper said. Honor had never been happier to see her brother.

  “Hello, Cooper,” Shirley said.

  “Mind if I talk to my sister?”

  Shirley frowned, obviously not done with her interrogation. Honor smiled at her as she stood. “Of course.”

  Coop took Shirley’s spot and the two of them watched her skate away. “Looked like you wanted to crawl out of your skin there.”

  “Thanks for the rescue.”

  “Always. Hey, I’m heading to LA now and I’ll be back sometime tomorrow night. I’m crashing at Ty’s house.”

  “You’re meeting with that other agent?” She posed it as a question, but she knew the answer.

  “Don’t sound so happy about it.”

  “I’m not.” She turned to face him more squarely. “Are you sure—”

  “Chill or I’m not going to say anything more about it to you.” He drilled her with blue eyes that seemed far more mature than his nineteen years. “I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions.”

  “Whatever.” She crossed her arms and slouched back against the bench. He might think he knew best, but he didn’t. Not that Honor did, but as the older sibling she should.

  “Honor?”

  She looked up and found Aiden blocking the sun. “Hi, Aiden.” She sat up taller.

  “I thought that was you.” Aiden turned to Coop. “And it’s Cooper, right? We met at Zane’s wedding.”

  “Yo,” her brother said, taking in Aiden like he had very sharp devil horns poking out of his sun-bleached hair.

  “I wasn’t sure if you were still in town,” Honor said.

  “I’m leaving tomorrow.” His nice green eyes shouted player and they were on her like crazy glue.

  Hmm. Leaving tomorrow. Cute. Nice. Interested. Could she tick off her one night stand with him? With all these insane thoughts about Bryce she really needed to let off some sexual steam. She got to her feet. “Where are you headed?”

  “Hawaii.” His gaze took a nice slow stroll down her body.

  Cooper jumped up. “H, a word?” He linked his arm with hers and tugged.

  “Excuse me a minute,” she said over her shoulder, then to Coop, “What are you doing?”

  He took several more steps before stopping. “The guy wants in your pants.”

  “I know.”

  “And you’re okay with that? What is wrong with you?”

  “You know what? You don’t want me in your business, so keep out of mine.”

  Irritation rolled off Coop’s puffed out chest. “Personal business is different. I’m not gonna let this guy take advantage of you.”

  Honor bristled at his choice of words. She could damn well take care of herself. “No one is taking advantage of me. I’m a big girl.”

  “I know something happened at Dad’s company party and you won’t talk about it, but ever since then you’ve been totally closed off. This dude does not deserve whatever you want to give him.” Coop slanted his head so he spoke into her ear. “I saw him leave the Harpoon with a girl two nights ago, H, don’t add to his scorecard.”

  Her brother didn’t get it. Aiden was the perfect one night stand. She needed a guy she didn’t feel anything for so she could cross the deed off Payton’s list without worry of getting attached.

  But the thought of him with another girl just the other night didn’t sit right. There was also the chance she’d see him again since he and Zane were friends.

  She spun around and stepped toward Aiden. “Sorry about that.”

  “No problem.” He smiled. “You busy later? I can’t think of anyone prettier to spend dinner with before I go.”

  Sweet talker. Say yes. Say you’d love to. Coop will be gone. You can bring Aiden home with you. “I am actually. But thanks for asking.” Stupid principles.

  “My loss. It was nice meeting you.”

  “You, too.”

  Aiden lifted his chin to Coop and took off. “I knew you couldn’t do it,” Coop said, his hand landing on her shoulder.

  She shrugged off his touch. She damn well could do it and she’d prove it. As soon as she met the perfect stranger. “I could have. I just needed to set a good example.”

  Coop laughed. “Yeah, you tell yourself that.” He took in her scowl. “Hey, for real, though, you’re the best sister a guy could have.” He wrapped her in a hug. “That’s why I stick my nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  “Right back at you,” she said, squeezing him tight. One good thing that had come out his accident was they’d grown much closer. And she’d never do anything to ruin that bond.

  At seven o’clock that night, Honor curled up on her couch and scrolled through Netflix. She had a date with Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

  “You with me, Pay? It’s time for some Audrey Hepburn. I remember when you dressed as her for Halloween. God, you looked exactly like her.”

  Just as the opening scene popped onto her TV screen the doorbell rang. Perfect timing. She paused the movi
e, grabbed the twenty on the ottoman, and padded to the door in her socks.

  Only it wasn’t the usual Japanese food delivery guy standing on her porch. “Bryce?”

  “Hi, Honor.” He lifted the take-out bag. “I know this probably looks like I’m a creeper or something, but I’m really not. I happened to be at the restaurant picking up my own food when I heard the name ‘Honor.’ The delivery guy was running behind so I offered to swing by and drop it off. Here you go.” He handed her the bag. “That’ll be sixteen seventy-eight.”

  His grin flashed like a hundred shooting stars, and wishes about kissing him again filled her head. The smile also stole her voice. She handed him the twenty.

  He didn’t take it. “I’m kidding. It’s on me.”

  She continued to stare at him like a mute madwoman. Bryce stood at her door in jeans and a tan button down, loose at the collar, the skin at this neck soft and—she leaned a little bit closer—smelling deliciously male. His hair was messier than normal and she wanted to run her fingers through it.

  “Okay, well, have a good night.” He started to back away.

  “Wait.” What was wrong with her? She never had trouble talking to guys. “You just happened to be here? That does sound kind of creepy,” she teased, secretly happy to see him again.

  He stopped his steps. A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Zane called. He asked if I’d swing by his house to make sure the surprise he got for Sophie arrived okay.”

  “Did it?” She wanted to ask what surprise, but held back. Sophie would no doubt want to share the news.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want to come in and eat?” What was she doing? Her mouth had decided to operate on its own free will. “I mean I’m guessing you were going to eat on your drive home and that’s not really safe.”

  “Thanks, but I should…” His brows furrowed in concentration, or maybe it was debate. Whatever it was, several seconds of silence only magnified the charged air particles between them.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “Thanks for the special delivery.” She leaned on the door to close it.

  “Hold on. I’d like to come in.” He ran to his car and grabbed his own brown bag.

  Super happy for his company, she swung the door wide as he approached. His arm brushed hers when he stepped inside and the contact, combined with how good he smelled, had her a little weak in the knees.

  “Table? Couch?” He asked, looking like he belonged in her house.

  “Couch. I was about to watch a movie.” She hurried into the kitchen to grab forks, napkins and another bottle of water.

  “Is Cooper here?”

  “No. He’s in LA to… ” Was Bryce really here hoping to talk to her brother?

  “To meet with another agent?”

  “Yes.” She leaned against the kitchen counter for a moment to stop the sudden shake in her legs.

  “You okay?” Bryce asked.

  She turned to find him right beside her. He picked the napkins and forks up off the counter. “Do you honestly think he’s ready to go pro?”

  “I do.”

  “What if I don’t?”

  Bryce didn’t just look at her, he seemed to look inside her with genuine regard. “I get that you’re worried about him, but that isn’t a good reason to keep him from following his dreams.”

  “You don’t know—”

  “I know more than you think.” He twisted around and walked back to the couch, leaving her to dwell on what he meant.

  He sat in the middle of her sofa, leaving just enough room for her on either side. Her stomach fluttered at the idea that even though they might not agree on Cooper, he wanted to be close to her. When she sat and her bare knee touched his covered one, the quivers intensified. And, oh crap. She looked down at herself. She’d forgotten she only had on her Victoria’s Secret sleep shirt.

  She haphazardly dropped the bottles of water onto the ottoman. “I’m going to put on some sweats.”

  Bryce took hold of her arm. “You don’t need to change on my account.”

  What about on her account? She needed more of a barrier between her nakedness and his nearness because she definitely wasn’t thinking about food or Tiffany’s. She was thinking about straddling his lap and licking his neck.

  And she didn’t think she’d imagined the predatory gleam in his eyes. He might be as conflicted as her about what they were doing, but the attraction couldn’t be refuted.

  If he wasn’t going to let her bareness bother him, though, then she wouldn’t let it bother her either. “Okay,” she relented.

  “What movie are we watching?” He opened the Styrofoam lid on his take-out.

  She tucked one leg under her bottom and got busy with her own food. “Breakfast at Tiffany’s. It’s one of my favorites.”

  He made a face, no doubt wishing he’d scored an action film instead, but lifted the remote and pressed play. She stifled a giggle. And swallowed a shiver when he gave her a sidelong glance that tracked from her face down to her legs before he took a bite of his dinner.

  Somehow halfway through the movie, Honor found herself nestled next to him. His arm was wrapped around her, her head and hand were on his chest, and rather than hear the words coming from the characters on the TV, she heard the beating of his heart. Felt each lub-dub like a song she wanted to play on repeat over and over and over again. She thought about the quote she remembered best from the movie…

  “You know what’s wrong with you, Miss Whoever-You-Are? You’re chicken. You’ve got no guts. You’re afraid to stick out your chin and say, ‘Okay, life’s a fact, people do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that’s the only chance anybody’s got for real happiness.’”

  Honor had never thought herself a chicken, only matter-of-fact. She couldn’t change her feathers.

  But was it true? If she never took another chance on love, would she ever be truly happy? Part of her wanted what Sophie and Zane had.

  The other part made it her mission to fly free.

  With a gentle touch, Bryce tickled the hand she had on his chest with the tips of his fingers. Lazy strokes across her knuckles, her skin. “I feel you thinking,” he whispered. “You okay?”

  No she was not okay. She was in trouble. Big, big trouble. Not only did he always seem in tune to her, he made her think about things she’d written off. This crazy reaction to him was different from anything she’s experienced before.

  “Yes,” she half lied. Because being in his arms felt amazing and she didn’t want to move from this position.

  His tickling stopped and he put one of the small couch pillows in his lap. He shifted his weight, keeping one arm wrapped around her shoulder, until her head fell onto the pillow. Then his fingers gently rubbed up and down her arm, her back. Her eyes fluttered shut.

  “How’d the skating go today?”

  “Good. Everyone seemed to really like it. And as far as I know there weren’t any casualties. The mayor also told me I was da bomb, so you know, I think that means he’ll be giving me a key to the city soon.”

  “You know what that means, right?” His fingers dipped a little below her lower back, teasing the top of her bottom before cruising up her side.

  “That I can’t hide it in a rock?”

  He chuckled. She smiled. “That congratulations are in order. I think you’re the first person to successfully bring roller-skating back.”

  “Thanks to you.”

  “I’m pretty sure you did it without me.” His hand rubbed farther down, this time rounding the curve of her butt. Her nightshirt rose a little up her legs when his palm massaged back up to her shoulder.

  Her eyes flew open. Tingles of anticipation shot straight to between her thighs. What was he doing? And please, Lord, don’t let him stop.

  She swallowed and concentrated on the movie. She also didn’t move a muscle.

  He accepted her silence by continuing to rub her back before moving his ministrations to her hip and dipping hi
s hand to her front, the pads of his fingers grazing the side of her stomach and front of her thigh before pressing lightly back up her torso.

  With each stroke down her body, he got more daring, more intimate. Her shirt inched up higher, exposing her black cheeky panties. He let out a tiny groan when he touched the lace that only covered half her bottom.

  That barely-there sexy sound almost had her lifting her head to see if he was as turned on as she was, but she didn’t want to spoil the best back rub of her life. Every sweep of his hand up and down made her belly coil tighter in pleasure, her skin more sensitive.

  She almost stopped breathing when he lifted her shirt high enough to expose her entire backside. His warm, strong hand settled at the base of her spine and stilled. Was he silently asking permission to continue? Staring at her ass and contemplating his next move?

  Touch me there. “There” being that magical spot that ached and begged to have a turn with at least two of his fingers. She rolled her hips over just the tiniest bit. Spread her legs just the slightest bit. But otherwise kept her hands around the pillow in his lap and her head still, eyes on the television screen.

  He slipped his hand over the curve of her waist and to the edge of her panties. She rotated a little more, lest he doubt where she wanted him to go.

  Her breath came out in a short sigh the second he rubbed over her center. She didn’t feel the least bit shameful as her legs fell open and she pressed into his hand. Her heels dug into the couch, she squeezed the pillow.

  “Mmm,” escaped her lips. He continued to massage, his thumb grazing over her tight nub and making her crazy. Wet. Horny beyond horny. He slipped his hand underneath the cotton and lace and the feel of his bare hand was almost more than she could take.

  Until he slid one, then two fingers inside her.

  She cried out and came faster and harder than she could ever remember.

  He brought her down slowly, caressing with such delicate strokes that she was afraid to look at him. Afraid to speak. Raw, complicated feelings she had no idea how to handle opened her mind to a new sensation—trust.

  Bryce covered her back up with her shirt and rested his hand on her upper arm. He settled deeper into the couch as if he were content to end this there. She closed her legs, shifted so her knees were bent in a comfortable position.

 

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