by Susannah Nix
A muscle twitched in Caleb’s jaw. He had a great jaw. Perfectly angled, leading to a strong chin. Just the right amount of stubble for maximum sexiness. “I shouldn’t.”
“So you say.” She held her hand out to him and waited.
He stared at it with a mixture of wariness and longing, as if she’d offered him drugs. Her self-esteem swelled two sizes like the Grinch’s heart. Caleb wanted her. It felt good to be wanted.
When he finally slid his hand into hers, she could swear she saw stars. Was that sound the local high school’s marching band practicing in the distance or a chorus of Whoville Whos raising their voices in song?
Goose bumps shimmied down her arm as his calluses scraped against her palm. They locked eyes again. For a moment they just stood there on the sidewalk holding hands. Getting used to the feel of it. Bracing themselves for what came next.
It’s happening.
Struggling to contain her elation, Penny tugged him up the walk to her building. Her apartment was on the second floor, and they continued holding hands as they climbed the cement steps. When they got to her door with its welcoming wreath of dried flowers, Penny regretfully released his hand to fish her keys out of her purse.
Caleb stepped up behind her when she slid her key into the lock. Heat radiated off him as his front pressed against her back. His fingers moved through her hair, brushing it aside, then his lips grazed her neck.
Abandoning the keys in the lock, she spun to face him. They were so close her breasts grazed his chest. He put one hand flat against the door beside her head; the other reached up to trace her cheekbone. She shivered as his rough fingertips trailed over her skin. He bent his head, and their noses brushed. His breath whispered across her cheekbone, then he pressed a soft kiss to her temple.
A sigh escaped her lips as her hands fisted in his T-shirt, tugging him closer. His hand trailed down her neck to her shoulder, his thumb settling in the cradle of her collarbone. He pressed his forehead against hers. “I should go.”
Her stomach sank like a lead weight. “No, you shouldn’t.” She gave his shirt a hopeful little tug. “You should definitely come inside.”
He pulled back and shook his head. “I can’t.”
Annoyance flared within her. He couldn’t just keep teasing her and then disappearing. “Relax. I’m not going to jump you.” The corner of her mouth pulled into a smirk. “Unless you want me to.”
His eyes darkened. “You have no idea.”
Another tug. “Then come inside.” She was never letting go of this T-shirt. He’d have to pry it out of her rigor-mortised fingers.
“Penelope.” Her name came out as a growl. She’d never heard anything sexier in her life.
“Caleb. Come inside.” She shoved the door open and he let her pull him over the threshold. She didn’t let go until she had the door closed behind them.
His eyes traveled around her apartment, taking it in as she slipped out of her shoes and set her purse on the dining table. There wasn’t a ton to see. The space was dominated by a dinette with four chairs and a big cozy couch with a hand-knit throw draped across the back. On one wall stood a bookcase overflowing with Blu-rays and old schoolbooks, and in the middle of the room sat a leather ottoman with a wooden tray that served as a coffee table. There wasn’t even space for a second armchair—something she considered extremely fortunate at the present moment.
She gestured to the wicker mat beside the door where she’d put her flats. “Take off your shoes.”
He obeyed, bending over to untie his scuffed work boots before lining them up carefully next to hers.
“Do you want something to drink? I was going to make some tea, but I’ve also got beer and wine. Or I could make you coffee!” she added. “Wouldn’t that be a treat?”
He straightened and shoved his hands in his back pockets, looking amused. “Tea’s fine.”
“Make yourself comfortable.” She went into the kitchen to put on the kettle. “Spicy chai or orange zinger?”
“Chai.”
She got out two mugs and put a teabag in each. Spicy chai for him and orange zinger for her. “Do you take anything in your tea?”
“Black, please.”
She went to the bathroom while the tea was steeping to do a quick hair and makeup check and apply a fresh coat of deodorant. Just in case.
He was staring at the contents of her bookcase when she came out. “You watch a lot of TV shows,” he said as she dumped the tea bags into the trash.
She carried his mug of chai to him and gazed at the bookcase fondly. “These are my most favorite shows. The ones I like to watch over and over.”
“Why buy it when everything’s on Netflix?”
She blew across the top of her tea to cool it off. “Everything’s not on Netflix. Sometimes they drop a show, and then you can’t watch it when you want to. I like knowing that I can always watch my favorite shows in an emergency.”
His brows drew together in amused incomprehension. “A TV emergency?”
“Yes! When I’ve had a bad day, I like to zone out on the couch and watch something that will make me feel better.”
“Does that happen a lot?”
“All the time.”
She took her tea to the couch and sat down. After a moment’s hesitation he followed, leaving plenty of space between them. She turned toward him and he did the same, mirroring her position. They regarded one another silently as they cradled their tea.
The chai in his mug scented the air with spices. It smelled the way his skin had smelled. The memory of it made her feel warm all over. The heat started low, and spread up through her chest and into her face.
“What?” he said warily.
She sipped her orange zinger. “Nothing.”
“You’re staring at me.”
“You’re staring at me.”
He shook his head. “This is weird, isn’t it? Tell me it’s weird for you too.”
“A little.”
She’d used up all her bold plays getting him here, and she didn’t have a next move. It was one thing to screw up her courage to kiss someone who’d already kissed her once. But now that he was in her apartment, she had no idea what to do next. Was she supposed to seduce him? She wasn’t used to being that girl. She wanted to be that girl, but she didn’t know how.
She’d always relied on men to make the first move. They set the pace and she followed it. But if she let Caleb set the pace, he’d be in Mississippi before they’d made any real progress. Every instinct she had was urging her not to let him get away—not without a taste test, at least.
This was her chance to be the girl who had fun instead of good little Penny. To have a meaningless fling with a hot guy who was about to disappear from her life forever. She wanted this. Not only because he was so, so hot, but because she wanted to prove to herself that she could have hot sex simply for the sake of hot sex. No commitment, no attachment, no feelings.
She set her mug down and laid her hand on the couch between them, palm up. “You don’t have to be scared of me. I don’t bite.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “That’s disappointing.”
She grinned at him. “Maybe if you ask nice.”
He graced her with another of those dazzling smiles as he placed his hand in hers. She’d always thought the term “panty-melting” was dumb when she read it in stories, but seeing that smile, it felt keenly apropos.
“I don’t even know your last name,” she said, tangling their fingers together.
His thumb stroked over her knuckle. “Mayhew.”
“Caleb Mayhew.” She rolled it around on her tongue like a sip of expensive wine. “I like it.”
“It’s not as good as Popplestone.”
“Few things are.” She turned his hand over and cradled it in both of hers like a palm reader. “Your hands are so rough.”
His fingers flexed. “Sorry.”
“No, I like it.” She ran her fingertips over the calluses, imagining ho
w they’d feel on her body. She never knew calluses could be so sexy.
“It’s from lifting weights.”
“I knew you worked out. A body like yours doesn’t happen by accident.”
He started to pull his hand away but she held on fast, locking her eyes with his. “Why does that make you uncomfortable?”
He held her gaze for a moment before lowering his eyes with a light shrug. “It gets old, only being appreciated for my looks.”
She traced the veins in his wrist with her fingertips. “I appreciate lots of things about you.”
He took a drink of his tea. “Yeah, right.”
“I appreciate the way you make coffee.”
He snorted.
“You make the best latte art of anyone.”
“Great.”
“I always liked that you were nice to George. I’m a little jealous, to be honest.”
He lifted his eyes. “Of George?”
“That you talked to him when you wouldn’t talk to me. You know, it’s not my fault you haven’t let me get to know you. It’s not like I haven’t tried.”
Caleb’s eyes flicked away. “I was intimidated by you.”
It was Penny’s turn to snort. “Yeah, right.”
“I was. You’re so smart and beautiful and confident. You seem like you have your whole life together.”
“Come on.”
“It’s true.”
“You’re going to medical school, so obviously you’re smart and you’ve got your life together too.”
He scowled into his mug. “It’s all an illusion.”
“I just wanted to be your friend. Why wouldn’t you let me?”
He leaned forward to set his tea on the coffee table before answering. “I didn’t see the point of making friends when I knew I was going to be leaving soon.”
She imagined him as a little boy, saying the same thing as he moved from one new school to another, and it broke her heart. She curled her fingers into his palm. “There doesn’t need to be a point to having friends.”
“I’ll bet you have a lot of friends.”
“And I’ll bet you don’t have very many.”
When he didn’t say anything, Penny turned his hand over and laced their fingers together. Her whole body ached for him. Being this close to him was suffocating. But she made herself wait. She needed to be patient. She didn’t want to scare him away.
He swiveled his head toward her. “Do you still just want to be my friend?”
“No,” she said quietly. “Not just. Not since you kissed me.”
He looked down at their clasped hands. “Were you surprised when I did that?”
She took a chance and scooted toward him on the couch. “Yes. But it was a good surprise. The best.”
His fingers squeezed hers. “I didn’t mean to do it. It just happened.”
She scooted a little more and the couch cushion helpfully tipped her toward him. “Do you regret it?”
“No.” He lifted his other hand to her face and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Do you want to kiss me again?” she asked as his fingertips explored the curve of her jaw. Desire was surging like an electric current inside her. She’d never felt this helpless and this powerful at the same time.
He took his time answering. “Yes.”
“Why don’t you?”
“Because I’m afraid if I start, I won’t be able to stop.”
“Then don’t stop. I’m not made of glass. You’re not going to break me.”
Something stirred in the depths of his eyes. “Maybe you’re going to break me.”
She almost laughed. “Somehow I doubt it.”
His smile washed over her. “Did you know you’re the best part of most of my days?”
She blinked at him. “Me?”
“You. You’re amazing, Penelope.”
“If I’m so amazing, why aren’t you kissing me?” She’d meant it to sound light and teasing, but it didn’t come out that way. Because that was the question, wasn’t it? What was wrong with her that he kept holding himself back?
His frown deepened and she looked away.
“Hey.” He tilted her chin toward him. His eyes roamed over her face, so soft and deep, she could sink right into them.
She wanted him to kiss her so badly, every nerve ending in her body was craving it. But she’d been the forward one last time. She wasn’t doing it again. There was signaling your interest in someone and then there was relentlessly throwing yourself at them. If he wanted to kiss her again, he had to decide to do it.
“Penelope.” He looked sad. Regretful.
He was about to tell her he hadn’t meant it. She could already hear the excuses. That she was a great girl, just not his type. How he liked her a lot, but not in that way. He’d just gotten carried away in the moment when he kissed her before. This wasn’t what he wanted. She wasn’t what he wanted.
His lips parted, and she braced herself to hear that she’d been an experiment. A mistake.
Instead, he pressed his mouth to hers.
Her whole body sagged in relief, tipping her toward him on the couch even more. His arm slipped around her as he softly—so softly—kissed her mouth open. When their tongues touched the taste of his spicy chai mingled with her orange zinger. It tasted like Christmas morning. Like coming downstairs and getting that first glimpse of all the presents under the tree. Promise and possibility and wonder.
He sighed against her lips, and that was how she knew. He wanted her. He wanted this. At least as much as she did. His hand cupped her jaw, his fingertips stroking her skin as his mouth moved over hers slowly. Intently. Savoring her like a new and wonderful flavor of ice cream.
Feeling emboldened, she twisted her body toward him and swung her legs up onto the couch, tucking them beneath her. The arm around her tightened, pulling her even closer. Encouraging her. She slid a knee over his thigh and he let out a low groan as it settled between his legs.
He kissed her harder and she ground her hips against his thigh. She couldn’t help herself. She was lost in the softness of his lips and taste of his tongue. The prickly scrape of his stubble. Her knee slid up higher between his legs and he groaned again, head lolling back and eyes closing. She smiled smugly, reveling in the newfound feeling of power over him.
His hand glided up her spine as he gazed at her with hunger in his eyes. Experimentally, she moved her knee again and laughed as he groaned a third time. The hand on her spine slid into her hair. His fingers grasped the nape of her neck, pulling her mouth to his as his other hand grabbed her leg and moved it so she was straddling both his legs.
She nipped playfully at his lower lip and shifted her weight until she was comfortably settled in his lap. “Is that okay?” she asked, afraid she might be too heavy for him.
His hands cupped her ass. “Better than okay.” Gifting her with another of his rare smiles, he gave her cheeks a squeeze.
So many smiles. She felt blessed. No wonder he was so careful about showing them to anyone. The women who came into the coffee shop would throw their underwear across the counter if they saw Caleb smile like this.
Penny gazed down at their legs, marveling at the size and strength of his thighs. They were even bigger than hers. But where hers were soft and pliant, his had been chiseled out of marble like a Michelangelo.
She caught sight of the tattoo on his biceps and reached for it. Pushing up his sleeve to expose the full length of it, she ran her fingers over his skin, tracing the words as she read them: Transit umbra, lux permanet.
“What does it mean?”
He played with a strand of her hair. “Shadow passes, light remains.”
“I like that.” She smoothed her hand down his arm, unable to believe this was really happening. She’d never been this close to anyone half as good-looking as Caleb. Looks had never mattered to her as much as personality—or at least that was what she’d always told herself. In truth, an opportunity like this had never present
ed itself before. And now here she was sitting in this gorgeous man’s lap, for crying out loud. What was even her life right now?
She placed her hand on Caleb’s chest and felt his heart thud against her palm, quick as a rabbit’s. His chest rose and fell, his breathing heavy, and it shocked her to realize it was because of her. She’d made his heart speed up and his lungs heave just by touching him.
She slid her hands down his torso, enjoying the heady feeling as his rib cage expanded under her hands with every breath. He watched her with dark, heavy-lidded eyes as she ran her fingertips over his abs. Following the ridges like a topographical map, she settled her hands on his waist. There wasn’t an ounce of give to it. Not a single pocket of excess fat to be found. She could only imagine what he must look like under that T-shirt. Images from the cover of Men’s Health danced before her eyes. There was definitely a six-pack under there, and she longed to see it. Did she dare lift his shirt up?
No, not quite. Not yet anyway.
She stroked his stomach with her thumbs, smiling as his muscles contracted at her touch. “So I’m the best part of your day, huh?”
“You have no idea.” He lifted both his hands to her face, cupping it gently as he drew her in for a kiss. Their mouths met in a slow, luxurious slide. One of his hands curled into her hair while the other traveled to her shoulder, then over and down to graze the side of her breast as his fingers spread over her ribs.
She let out an embarrassing little whimper and felt him smile against her mouth.
“All this time I had no idea you even liked me,” he murmured.
She pulled back to stare at him. “Are you kidding? I was always nice to you.”
He pressed a kiss to the corner of her jaw. “Yeah, but you’re nice to everyone.”
“Well, that’s true.” She ran her fingers through his hair as his lips moved down her throat.
“How was I supposed to know you weren’t just being polite?” His breath heated her skin as he pressed a series of open-mouthed kisses over her throat.
“I was being polite, but you could have given me some encouragement. Then I would have been more than just polite.” Teeth nipped at her skin and she shivered.