by Staci Hart
Tears filled my eyes, and I smiled, touching his cheek as I leaned into him, bringing my lips to his. When I pulled away, he tugged my arm, forcing our mouths back together for a moment longer.
He pulled away, watching his hand as he touched my hair. “I want to kiss you until I know the feeling by heart.”
“We should practice, then.”
He smiled. “Oh, we will. But not here. I’d like to take you out, Lily Thomas. I want the world to know you’re mine before I take you for my own.”
My insides turned into jelly. “Let’s go now.”
West touched my cheek. “Not yet. I’ve got to make some plans.”
I might have pouted a little. “What should we do tonight, then?”
“Well, you know what show we’re behind on?”
“The Bachelor,” we said at the same time.
“Come on, then. Who knows what shenanigans Celeste is going to get in this week.” I picked up my drink and drained it in a gulp.
“I can’t believe Eric doesn’t see her crazy.” He shook his head and knocked his whiskey back before pulling out his wallet. Rose hurried around the bar and slapped his hand when he tried to leave some cash.
“Nope. Get out of here with that.”
“Come on,” he insisted, pushing the money back at her.
She batted it away. “I said no! Consider it my gift to you on this most joyous occasion.”
I laughed. “You better give up, West. She’s not above shooting you with the soda gun.”
Rose grabbed it and pointed the nozzle at him. “She’s right. Now scram.”
West smiled. “Thank you, Rose.”
“You’re welcome. Now don’t get into any trouble, and hang a sock on the door if there’s nakedness happening because I’m not ready for that. You two kissing in the bar is weird enough.”
I leaned over the bar to kiss her cheek. “Thanks, Rosie.”
“No prob, Lil.”
We waved and smiled our way out of Habits, onto the street in the early night, holding hands as we hurried toward our building and up the stairs. His hand was on my back as I unlocked my door and stepped into the dark apartment.
“Mags?” I called. “You here?”
Silence.
“Huh. Guess she’s out.” I clicked on the lamp, kicking off my shoes as I tossed my keys in the dish, and West made his way around the couch and took off his bag. I padded into the living room behind him, looking over a sight I’d seen a thousand times. But watching him set down his things and stretch — the long line of his torso, the profile of his face and hair, just the sheer height of him — hit me in a way that made my heart ache. It was possession I felt. He was mine.
He smiled over at me, and when I reached him, we flopped down on the couch shoulder to shoulder, feet propped on the coffee table just like we always did as I navigated the DVR and hit play.
I wound my arm around his, found his hand, and we threaded our fingers together. A few minutes later, that wasn’t enough, and he let my hand go to wrap his arm around me. I leaned into him with my hand on his thigh and my thoughts focused on him so intently that even the slightest movement garnered my full attention.
A commercial break came on, and I shifted, brought my knees up so I was almost in his lap. His hand found the outside of my thigh, and I beamed at him.
I’d planned on saying something witty, to start a conversation to dissipate the nervous energy buzzing through me, but then I looked at him — his eyes like the summer sky, dark hair tied back in a knot, his beard framing his lips, lips I now knew to be strong and soft — and I was a goner. I leaned into him, breathing the scent of spiced oranges, and met his lips. They moved against mine, telling me things I knew to be true without the complication of words or thought. Just a simple action that said he needed me just like I needed him.
He sucked on my bottom lip, and I hummed, fingers in his hair. They wandered to the knot and tugged until his hair was loose. My hungry fingers wound through it, and then it was his turn to hum. His hand slipped up my thigh, pulling my legs into his solid chest. I needed to be closer to him.
I climbed into his lap and straddled him, the kiss holding more determination now that we were face-to-face, with nothing in our way but a little bit of fabric. His hands were against my back, fingers twisted in my hair, and I rolled my hips as our mouths and tongues met in waves. My arms were around his neck, keeping his lips against mine where they belonged, and when his hands found my ass and pulled me into his hips, his length pressed against me, sending a shudder through my thighs.
I broke the kiss with a sigh, hanging my head back.
“Lily,” he whispered against my neck.
“Yes.” My hips rolled.
He flexed his own hips to meet mine and sucked in a breath with a hiss. “Ah, Lil. Not yet.”
“Please?” I covered his mouth with mine, kissing him deep.
He pulled away, eyes hot as he looked up at me. “I can’t stop when you beg me like that.”
“Then don’t.”
He trailed kisses down my neck, to my chest as he cupped my breast. “I have to,” he said against my skin.
I shifted my hips again, grinding against him. “Says who?”
He growled and flipped me over onto my back. A little squeal burst out of me, and he hovered over me, breath heavy. I cupped his cheeks, shifting my fingers in his beard. “Says me. We’ll go on a date before I take you to bed, Lily Thomas.” He kissed me hard, a demanding kiss that betrayed his chastity.
I huffed when he broke away. My body was not willing to wait for anything so stupid as a meal. “Damn you and your Southern honor. I’ve known you for four years. Do you really think dinner matters at this point?”
He smiled and shifted on the couch, putting his torso between my legs, his face near the base of my ribs with his hips much too far away from mine. “Doesn’t matter. As much shit as I gave Blaney for not honoring that, I’d be a hypocrite not to follow my own moral code, wouldn’t I?”
I scowled. “Screw Blane and screw your moral code and screw me.”
“I want you to know I’m serious about you, Lily.”
“I believe you’re serious. Now kiss me.”
He laughed. “Tomorrow. Can you wait until tomorrow?”
“I have Spaghetti-O’s in the kitchen.” I was almost whining. “Can we make those and call it a dinner?”
“Nope.”
“Ugh, West.” I groaned.
His hand slipped up my thigh, under my skirt, and I slapped him on the shoulder.
“Don’t start something you won’t finish, Weston.”
“Mmm.” He pressed his lips to my stomach. “I should go. I don’t think I can keep my hands to myself.”
Part of me wanted to cry, and rest of me wanted to laugh at the brilliant insanity of it all. I would have sucker punched an old lady if it would mean I could get West to spend the night.
“Don’t go,” I pouted.
He climbed up my body and kissed my nose. “Tomorrow.” Then he kissed my lips. My entire body responded, particularly my legs, which wrapped themselves around his waist. He pulled away and unhooked them, amused.
I folded my arms across my chest, indignant. “Fine. I guess it’s just me and Phil tonight.”
His brow dropped. “Oh? Who’s Phil?”
“Philmore Dix. My vibrator.”
A rumbling laugh burst out of him. “Goddammit, Lil.”
“Think of me while you’re lying in bed all alone.”
But he smiled and brushed my hair away from my face. “One night. And then, you’re mine.” He kissed me, and I honest to God whimpered.
West climbed off the couch and adjusted his pants, but when he looked back at me, he froze. His gaze drifted up and down my body, pausing where my dress was hitched up. His eyes were on fire when they met mine again.
“Tomorrow.” His voice was haggard.
I sighed. “Tomorrow.”
He moved around the back of the
couch and leaned over it to kiss me again, a gentle kiss. Bastard totally held out on me. On a scale of one to lava, it was an electric blanket. His eyes twinkled at me. “Tell Phil I said hi.”
“Oh, I will.” I chimed.
He touched my face reverently. “It’ll be worth it.”
My face softened. “I know it will.”
“Sleep tight.”
“You too.”
And then he disappeared from over me, and I heard the door close.
“This sucks!” I threw a pillow across the room before hauling myself off the couch to look for batteries.
West
I adjusted my pants again as I unlocked my door and made my way into the empty apartment, not any closer to calming down than I had been when I’d walked out of Lily’s apartment. When I left, I’d been one more kiss away from taking her right then. A big part of me wanted to march back over there and do it anyway. But like I’d said — it would be worth it. I wanted to honor her. Respect her. Even if it meant I had a hard-on straight from hell.
I pulled off my shirt and pants, changing into sweats, no shirt, unable to get her off my mind. It was still early enough that I couldn’t go to sleep, not that I thought I’d be able to sleep at all that night. I stretched out on my bed and picked up The Fountainhead, but after I’d read the same paragraph a handful of times, I gave up. I turned on music, but the first song’s lyrics made me think of her, and I sighed, glancing at my phone where it sat on my nightstand.
She was right down the hall. So close.
I picked up my phone. Opened my messages and found her name. I’ve been reciting running backs since I left, but it hasn’t helped me stop thinking about you.
My phone buzzed within seconds. Too bad you don’t have Phil like I do.
I snorted. I doubt he’d do anything for me.
That’s a shame. He does so much for me.
You really want me to come back over there, don’t you?
Is it that obvious?
My smile stretched wider. Just a little.
What are you doing?
Lying in bed, trying not to think about you and Phil.
What are you wearing?
My heart sped up a little, pumping more blood exactly where I didn’t want it. Grey sweats.
And what else?
Nothing. That’s it.
God, West. It’s not fair, you know that?
I laughed. Honey, believe me when I say neither of us are enjoying this.
Well, I have Philmore, so maybe one of us is.
I groaned. The next time my phone buzzed, it was with a picture, and I legitimately almost bolted out the door and back to her apartment. It was a snapshot of her body as she lay on her side — thighs pressed together, the planes of her naked stomach, the tiny triangle of pink fabric that barely covered her. My hand slipped into my pants.
Still here? She messaged. Did you bail on me?
You can’t send me a pic like that and expect me to communicate, Lil.
I could practically hear her giggling from apartments away. I wish you’d stayed.
Me too.
Tell me again it’ll be worth it.
It’ll be worth it. I love you.
I love you too.
Where’s Phil?
Oh, he’s right here. Just turned him on.
Well, he and I have that in common.
Send me a pic.
I leaned back, catching the line of my stomach, my hand in my pants around the long shadow, clear enough through the fabric to gather what I was doing.
It took a minute before she answered. Didn’t matter though — I had her photo still open.
Fuck, West. Seriously.
I know. Tomorrow. I promise.
I want you.
I’m yours.
22
ALL I WANT
Lily
I HUMMED, FEELING LIGHT AS cotton candy as I grabbed my bag the next morning, heading down the hall to meet West. I knocked on his door, giddy when I heard him walk up, giddier still when I saw him standing in the doorway, looking fine. He had on a flannel over a white shirt, gray beanie slouched over his hair that peeked out around his neck, jeans and boots.
His smile was as bright as the sun. “Mornin’.”
I stepped into the doorway with him and leaned into his chest, tilting my face as I reached for his lips to give them a simple, yet completely satisfying kiss. “Morning. You ready?”
“Ready.” He grabbed his bag, closed his door, and took my hand.
“So, where are we going tonight?” I asked as we trotted down the stairs.
“It’s a surprise.”
“Oh? I’m intrigued.”
“Good.” He smirked as he held the door open for me. “What’s on deck for you today?”
I walked past him and onto the sidewalk. “Avoid Blane like herpes. Nail my Black Swan once and for all. Costume fitting. Then I’m all yours.”
West reached for my hand. “Damn straight, you are.”
We walked toward the coffee shop at the end of the block. “How about you? How’s your day look?”
“Bleak and cold, until I see you again.”
“I know. It’s going to be a long day.” We walked in silence for a moment. “Can I confess something?”
“Anything.”
“I’m nervous.”
He smiled over at me. “Me too. But I keep thinking about last night. We’re going to be just fine.”
“I thought it would be weirder than it is, you know? Like, I thought we’d have to ease into it. But after last night, I definitely do not want to ease into anything.”
West laughed as we approached the coffee shop. “Me neither.” He pulled open the door, and we stepped in.
We got our morning fix and walked the block down Broadway to the subway, through the turnstile and into the terminal. We stood in the noisy station, pressed chest to chest, taking a long moment to say goodbye. The look on his face as he moved my hair away from my face … well, let’s just say my ovaries exploded like popcorn.
He kissed me long enough to steal my breath before breaking away.
“I’ll see you tonight.”
“Just a few hours. Will you text me if you think of me?”
He chuckled. “I don’t think my data plan covers that amount of transfer.”
I smiled up at him.
“I’ll message you. Have a good day.” He kissed me once more as my train pulled up.
“You too.”
I hurried to catch it before the doors closed, moving to kneel in a seat so I could still see him standing on the platform with his hands in his pockets. I laid my palms on the window, closing my eyes as I made a kiss face, and he smiled like it hit him in the heart.
I made it to Lincoln Center by nine-thirty, early for the day, and changed into my workout shorts and leg warmers. I grabbed a new pair of shoes from the shoe room like I was floating and made my way to barre class to stretch with an unstoppable grin.
Until I walked into the studio.
I froze as the door swung shut behind me. I was the second one there — the first was Blane. A mostly naked Blane. Duct taped to the barre. With the word slutbag written across his chest in hot pink lipstick.
He sighed, relieved. “Thank God you’re here. Cut me loose.” He tried to extend his wrists but didn’t get far.
My mouth hung open in a gaping smile as I walked around him to get a good look. “Well, well, well. Who else did you piss off, Blaney?”
A shadow passed across his face. “I don’t want to talk about it. Are you seriously going to fuck with me right now? If Ward sees this—”
My smile fell like a pile of bricks. “He’ll think I had something to do with it.” I put down my bag and dug around for my sewing kit. “You really don’t learn, do you?”
He just scowled. I was sure he had something to say, but his desire to get out of his little bind kept his mouth shut.
My fingers closed around my shears just as the
door opened, and a pack of dancers came in. Everyone stopped just inside the door that shut with a thump, marring the silence.
A sharp laugh cut through the room — Jenni’s — and the entire group broke out in laughter. I heard the click of a camera as someone took a picture. Nadia stood at the edge of the group with her arms folded across her chest, smirking.
She fucking did it.
A laugh bubbled out of me, and Nadia met my eyes with a nod. Blane was flaming red, and I took pity on the poor, steaming piece of shit, grabbing my shears to cut him loose. I’d only just gotten him free when Ward walked in with the pianist.
The dancers parted, framing Ward as he took in the scene. The room was dead silent.
His eyes met mine, and he stared me down. “What is going on here?”
I nearly withered up on the spot. “I don’t know, sir. Blane was like this when I got here.”
Blane picked himself up off the ground and glared at Nadia. “Lily had nothing to do with this, sir.”
Ward’s eyes were so narrowed, you could barely see the whites. “And who did?”
Blane shook his head. “It was my own fault.”
His nostrils flared. “You’ll meet me in my office after barre, Baker. Put a goddamn shirt on.”
Blane nodded, face nearly as pink as the dirty word on his chest. “Yes, sir.”
Ward turned to the room, voice hard. “This is over. The next incident will end with all involved dancers without a job. Do I make myself clear?”
Yes, sir, rolled through the dancers, and Ward chugged over to the piano to wait impatiently for everyone to arrive and take their places. I made my way to one of the portable barres in the middle of the room and set my bag down, catching Blane’s eye. I mouthed thank you at him, and he nodded curtly before pulling on his tank and inspecting his duct tape cuffs. He ripped one off with a yelp just as Nadia set down her bag next to mine.
“Karma’s a bitch,” she said with her eyes on Blane and a smile on her lips.
“And that bitch bites. Well played, Nadia.”
Her face went soft with an expression I’d never seen on her before. Humility. “I owe you an apology, Thomas. I had the enemy framed all wrong.”