by S. J. McGran
Riley is that person. Her heart is so damn big—big enough to love a fuck up like me. The question is how do I get her to that point? How do I get her to fall in love with me? Because getting me to fall in love with her is inevitable, in fact, I feel like it’s already happening.
“Kit,” I whisper as I pull back slightly giving her room to tilt her head back to look at me. Her hazel eyes stare up at me with an emotion I’ve yet to really see from her. It’s exactly what I’ve been waiting for.
Longing. Desire.
Leaning down I graze my lips against hers softly, so damn soft I physically ache to deepen the kiss. It’s just barely more than the kiss we shared yesterday. Just barely more than a graze.
Her sharp inhale of shock sends adrenaline rushing through my bloodstream. It takes everything in me to hold back, to not attack her, make her mine right there on the dance floor.
Just as I’m about to pull away, her hands curl in my hair keeping me close, her lips move over mine slightly, just barely harder than the first kiss. Relief washes through me.
She wants this. She wants me, too. Fucking finally.
With one last peck on her lips, I painfully pull back. “Does this count as our date?”
She smiles and shakes her head as she puts her head back on my chest.
I laugh right along with her and a goofy smile takes over my face.
A feeling of, what is that? Excitement? Nerves? Happiness? Whatever it is, it takes me over and it’s all I feel. I can’t wait to show this girl what we can have, can’t wait to give her the love and attention she deserves. The love and attention I’ve wanted to give to someone for so long.
Not someone. Riley.
I give her head another soft kiss before tucking her back into me and swaying with the music. I’m torn between wishing the night, this weekend were over so I can finally take this girl out on a proper date, and wanting to freeze time and stay in this moment forever.
Chapter Thirty
Riley
June 2014
Pushing my way through the growing crowd I finally find a spot at the bar, thankful it has the perfect view of the stage. I give the bartender a smile when he notices me hopping up onto my barstool. “Thanks, Todd,” I smile at the guy when he drops off an Oberon without me having to ask. The Attic is my usual Friday night hangout spot, but tonight it’s the spot of my first date with Rico.
I tried talking him out of going to a bar, but I had mentioned the band that was playing tonight was one of my favorites and so he insisted we go watch. Together.
I love music. I love watching local bands—finding that new, raw talent. Tonight one of my favorite local bands, At Anchor, is playing. I’ve been looking forward to this all week—listening to good music, enjoying a few beers, and relaxing. More than that, I’m ready to see where things with Rico are going to go.
This last week, since we’ve been home from the wedding has been… intense. I came home to my disaster of an apartment and had to deal with that mess. Rico tried to get me to stay with him again, but I refused, desperately needing to put some distance between us. He wanted to take me out on a real date, and I wanted that, too. But, I knew if I stayed with him any longer, especially now that I’ve decided to give into whatever this is, I wouldn’t be able to hold back until we went on our date.
I’ve talked to him a few times via text message, but that’s it. I asked him to continue seeing Paul, especially if we were going to start seeing each other… in any other way than professional. He agreed. So tonight is the first time I’ve seen him since he left my place late Sunday night.
Now that I’m sitting here, waiting for him my nerves are running rampant. Butterflies have taken up residence in my stomach and refuse to go away.
Taking a sip of my beer I close my eyes loving the way the cold, liquid takes the edge off automatically. When the first notes hit my ears, I swivel in my stool to get a better view. Hot damn, I wasn’t prepared for just how good the view was going to get when I turned around.
Rico Jones is only a handful of feet away from me, and getting closer. I watch his confident gait as he makes his way through the throng of concertgoers. I unabashedly take the time to admire his good looks.
He’s wearing dark, form-fitting jeans and a teal polo shirt. His hair is as always messy and his brown eyes are smoldering.
He slides onto the stool next to me, flashing that deadly grin as he does. “Hey, Kit.” Leaning over he places a sweet kiss on my cheek before signaling the bartender and ordering a water. Catching me watching him he flashes me a wink and I can’t help the damn blush that creeps along my cheekbones.
Turning back to the stage I try my hardest to concentrate on the lyrics and music hitting my ears but all I can focus on is Rico’s large body next to mine. The heat radiating from him, the way he leans in my direction when someone squeezes in next to him to get the bartenders attention. The way he watches me out of the corner of his eye the entire time.
For me music isn’t about the performance, it isn’t about stage presence and which band has the hottest lead singer. For me, it’s about the words. The lyrics. Tonight, this is a particularly good thing as I close my eyes to ignore Rico and the nerves wreaking havoc on my system and let the lyrics pour into me.
I open my eyes when Rico nudges my arm. Looking over at him I catch his tentative smile, his lust filled eyes, and a cold beer in his extended hand. I mouth my appreciation knowing he wouldn’t be able to hear it over the music.
We both look up when a drunk girl comes stumbling in our direction with her boyfriend barely holding her up. Rico jumps up from his stool offering it to the girl that should really be going home, not taking a seat at the bar. With space now limited he slides between the girl and me, his wide chest presses against my shoulder and all thoughts of listening to the band go out the window.
When his hand grazes my thigh and stays there, I chance a look up at him. His eyes are on fire—they blaze with need and desire. I want to say something, tell him I’m not ready for this, he’s not ready for this. That this was a bad idea, but all words get stuck in my throat when his cocky grin comes out to play.
I’m powerless to move when he leans forward his lips grazing my temple. His touch his so hot, so prominent as he trails his fingers along my thigh I can feel them burning the skin beneath my jeans. “Let’s get out of here.”
I want to. God knows there is nothing I want more than to run out of this place, Rico’s strong hand in mine guiding me through the crowd. But, I don’t know if I can. I’m so fucking scared of being ripped to pieces again.
My body is screaming at me to run to him. To fall into his arms, into his bed. My heart is begging me to let him in. My heart wants to love him, comfort him the way he craves, the way he deserves. But, I’m fucking terrified.
I’m afraid there aren’t enough shattered remains of my heart to give to someone. It would be unfair to ask that of someone. To ask him to accept me as a broken piece of a whole.
If only I had given into him long ago, then maybe it could have been just one night. One crazy night, where we both let go of everything holding us back. Where we just take pleasure from each other with no strings. No expectations.
It’s too late for that now, though. It’ll never be just one night with him. He’ll want more. Demand more. I’ll give it to him. I won’t be able to stop it.
Fear. Guilt. Pain. All of those things override the attraction, the lust, the want I have for this man and I panic. I fucking panic. The one thing I’ve wanted for so long is right there, all I have to do is reach out and grab it. But, I can’t.
Instead of going after what I’ve wanted. Instead of taking the man I’ve craved for so long. I give in to the sweaty palms, the increased heart rate, the nausea settling in my stomach. And I do what I do best.
“I thought I could do this, but I can’t Rico. I’m sorry.” Like the coward I am I push off the stool and make my way as fast as possible out of the bar. I try not to run, knowing
running would just give him another reason to follow—he’ll want to know why I’m running, what I’m running from. So, I walk—as fast as I possibly can—out into the warm summer night, cursing myself all the way.
Chapter Thirty-One
Rico
“Fuck that.” Pushing off the bar I cover the same space she did, twice as fast. The cool, metal door flies open with the force of my fist. A quick scan of the area shows me Riley head down, power walking down the street.
“Riley.” My voice carries, bouncing off the brick walls. “Riley, stop.” When her pace picks up to a run, I yell louder, my own pace matching hers. “Goddamn it, Riley. Stop.”
She comes to an abrupt halt but doesn’t turn around, doesn’t lift her head. I watch her hands ball into fists the closer I get. I know she wants this—she has to. The chemistry between us is too damn powerful. I, for one, am fucking tired of fighting it. I’m making this girl mine if it’s the last thing I do.
Stepping in front of her I grab her chin between thumb and forefinger. “What are you running from, Kit?”
Her eyes flick up to mine before looking over my shoulder. “Why do you call me that?” Her voice comes out shaky, I can’t tell if it’s fear or desire that’s got hold of her nerves.
Taking two more steps, I invade her space backing her into the brick wall. Placing my hands on the wall I cage her in, forcing her attention. “Because when you get pissed at me you snarl in the most adorable way, like a sweet kitten trying so hard to be ferocious.” Lowering my voice just slightly I continue, “But, just like that little kitten you’re too damn cute to be scary.”
Her sweet lavender scent hits me as she turns her head away from me, her hair brushing against my face. I drop my hands from the wall to grab her hips, I hold her like that for a few seconds, loving the way she feels in my arms. Unable to resist touching her more, teasing her more I slide my palms up her sides, just barely brushing the sides of her breasts. Pressing in even closer I make sure she can feel my erection pressing into her stomach. “I call you, Kit because you purr every time I touch you, baby.” My mouth dips down to take her ear between my teeth—I alternate between sucking and nibbling until I feel her small body let go of the tension she’s been trying so hard to fight and she melts against me. Then that sweet, sweet sound moves past her lips. “That sound. Damn Riley do you even know what that sound does to me?”
Apparently done with her shy girl act, done with the girl that’s afraid of this, she looks up at me and in a raspy, sexy as hell voice asks, “What does it do to you, Rico?”
My lips twitch. I love the sweet girl, but fuck I love the feisty side of her just as much. “It makes me want to throw you over my shoulder, take you home and fuck you until you lose your voice from screaming my name.”
Indecision clouds her eyes momentarily taking her away from me. Unwilling to let her go, I take the one thing I’ve wanted since the first time I heard that sweet little purr she makes. Her lips, her kiss.
For real this time.
My lips cover hers. I’m not subtle, and I’m not sweet. I kiss her hard, brutally hard. Every ounce of desire pours out of me with that kiss. That damn sound vibrates our kiss causing me to give her more, take more. Using my tongue, I prod her closed lips until she opens up to me, finally.
Sweet Jesus finally.
The small, teasing kisses we shared at the wedding made me hungry for more. This kiss, this carnal kiss makes me ravenous.
She tastes as good as she smells. Sweet, fruity, forbidden.
“Rico.” Her hands wrap around my neck, reaching and grabbing for my hair. Pressing my hips into her I shove her farther into the wall, needing to get closer to her. I want to stop this right now. I want to take her home and have my way with her, but I’m afraid she’s not there yet, not quite ready for this.
And so, I kiss her again. Grabbing her hips I pull her up the wall, up my body, her legs automatically wrapping around my waist. “Damn, baby. Do you have any idea what you do to me? How badly I want you?”
“I want you, too, Rico. I shouldn’t. But I do.” Her head falls forward, her lips blazing a trail along my neck.
I can’t wait anymore. I want to take her home and make good on my promises. I want to slide into her and listen to her soft cries of pleasure. I want to hold her, make her feel safe and adored. “Come home with me, Riley? Please?”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Riley
Every vital organ in my body wants this. My brain is telling me to let loose, to forget about the past and move on. My gut tells me I can trust him. My body is practically screaming at me to fuck him already (a year of celibacy, and months of foreplay with Rico Jones will do that to a girl.) But, those aren’t what scare me.
My heart’s reaction to this man is fucking terrifying. It’s telling me to let him in, really let him in. But, there’s a warning there, too. My heart knows without a doubt it can love Rico, but it also knows he’s the kind of guy that will break it into tiny, little pieces never to be put back together again.
If I fall for this man, there will never be anyone else. He’ll destroy me, ruin me.
Refusing to push him away anymore. Refusing to deny myself what I really want. Refusing to let fear control me I agree. I jump in with my eyes open. On a long breath, I breathe out, “Okay.” My whole body trembles with nerves as I finally agree.
Rico doesn’t ask me if I’m sure, he doesn’t double or triple check that this is what I really want. He’s not a man for analyzing, thinking. He’s a man of action, and that’s exactly what he does. Without dropping me, he carries me across the street to his truck where he sets me on the open tailgate and attacks my lips again.
When he kissed me earlier, I was still trying to fight whatever this is between us. I was still trying to be logical. So I held back. Slightly.
I’m not holding back anymore.
Keeping my legs wrapped around him, I grab his face between my palms holding me to him as I explore the sweet taste of him. I love the way his full lips completely cover mine. The way his thick tongue controls, demands, takes everything I’m giving him without backing down. I love the way his large hands grip my hips pulling me closer until the only thing separating us are our clothes.
“Take me home, Rico.”
I especially love the growl that escapes his lips at my words. “Yes, ma’am.”
In seconds, I find myself seated in the passenger seat of his truck, with the man himself putting the engine to the test as he flies down the streets in the direction of his place. I have to fight the urge to reach out and touch him, caress him. I swear if sexual tension were a color the inside of Rico’s truck would be blazing bright red. Each passing second adds to the expectation, the desire, the impatience blazing between us.
Focusing on something other than the primal, carnal need to reach over and stroke him through his jeans I realize belatedly how inexperienced I am in comparison. Over the past several months, I’ve been privy to Rico’s horror stories, the number of women he’s slept with, the kind of women he’s slept with. He’s even told me how he slept with a few of them. The kind of things he likes in the bedroom are things I’ve never done, never experienced.
William was the only guy I’d ever been with. We were high school sweethearts. He asked me to marry him the day we graduated with the promise of a wedding after college graduation. Everyone told us we were too young, that it would never work. We both ignored the naysayers. We knew what we had; we knew we could make it work. Then William turned into someone I didn’t recognize, someone ugly, selfish, abusive.
I haven’t been with anyone since I left him, too afraid of disappointment, too afraid of pain.
Now I’m in the car with the sexiest man I’ve ever met, on our way to his place. We’re going to have sex—of that I have zero doubts. But, I’m terrified of falling short of his expectations. I try my best to tamp down my insecurities, my doubts, but I’m only moderately successful. My nerves and anticipation mixing with each
passing second.
“Kit?” Rico’s velvety voice shakes me out my negative thoughts. His hand sliding up my thigh stopping only once he reaches the apex of my thighs banishes all thought completely. His fingertips graze the part of me that aches for him, teasing me with promises unspoken. “Fuck, baby. That blush is pretty.”
Bringing my hands up I cover my cheeks that are on fire. With desire? With embarrassment? I have no idea. All I know for sure is that if we don’t get home soon I’m going to explode with need. Fuck, if I care at this point if it’s not good enough for him. I just need someone, something to ease this throbbing need.
Finally, we pull into the parking lot of his apartment complex. Rico slams the truck into park and jumps out of his side before I’m even unbuckled. Stepping out I find Rico standing there waiting for me, hunger written all over his face. Grabbing my hips he shoves me back against the cool metal before his lips assault mine again.
Damn, this man can kiss. His strong hands roam my body, sliding around my hips to grip my ass before sliding up my back. His fingers tangle in my long hair pulling my head back, giving him access to my now exposed throat.
A needy sound leaves my mouth, a quiet sound that screams at this beautiful man to take me. Make me his.
“Don’t worry, sweet girl. I’ve got you.” Grabbing my hand he makes a mad dash for the door, sprinting up two flights of stairs. I send up a silent prayer of thanks that I run every day. Otherwise, I’d be a sweaty, embarrassing mess by the time we reached his third-floor apartment. I’d need a break to catch my breath and that is the last thing I want.
If I pause to catch my breath my thoughts, my doubts might start creeping back in. And that is the last thing I want.