“I know what you’re thinking,” he whispered before he pushed my ponytail aside so he could kiss the slim column of my throat.
“You…you do? Daniel, what are you doing?” I gasped as he began to nibble his way down my shoulder, tugging on the sleeve of my sweatshirt to reveal soft, creamy, sensitive flesh.
“You’re thinking of everything that can go wrong.” His teeth sank in for a tiny, teasing nip that made me moan. “When you should be thinking of everything that could go right. Starting with this.” He slipped his hand underneath my sweatshirt and skimmed over my stomach before gently cupping the underside of my breast. My nipples turned hard in an instant, and I could tell by the husky chuckle vibrating against my neck he was pleased by my body’s reaction to his touch.
With Justin, it had always taken a frustratingly long amount of time for me to get turned on. I’d always blamed myself. I certainly knew he had blamed me. Come on, he’d coax as he pinched my nipples, eliciting nothing more than a dull twinge of discomfort. Get wet for me, baby. At which point I had always done one of two things: either rolled onto my side and mumbled an excuse (I don’t feel well, I’m on my period, etc.) or I’d mustered a smile and feigned a response. It wasn’t always bad. I even came once or twice. But it was never good. And it was certainly nothing compared to what I felt when Daniel touched me. One low, teasing sweep of his hand against the crotch of my pajama pants and I was all but panting in his ear, squirming across my chair to get closer to him.
Gripping me by the waist, he lifted me up and settled me on his lap, sliding my legs along his hips. My bare toes touched the wall as I pressed myself against him and, taking a page out of his own book, tentatively slid my tongue along the outside curve of his ear.
To my surprise - and delight - his response was instantaneous.
The deep, strained sound of his throaty groan woke something wicked inside of me. Knowing I was responsible for the glazed look in his eye and the hardness bulging against his jeans was a powerful aphrodisiac. It made me want to do things. Things I’d never done before. Things I’d only read about in the naughty new adult novels I kept hidden on the bottom shelf of my bookcase. Purposefully meeting his gaze, I allowed myself to sink into stormy grey waters as I rocked my hips forward, pressing the hottest part of me against the hottest part of him.
“Imogen,” he rasped, gritting his teeth.
All innocence, I lifted a brow. “Yes, Daniel?”
He grinned at me, a wild, reckless grin that made me think ‘uh oh’ a split second before he grabbed my bottom with both hands and squeezed. “You’re killing me.”
“And me. Jesus, this is hot. Oo, are those blueberry muffins?”
“Whitney!” Yelping my best friend’s name as she sauntered casually into the living room, I tried to stand up, but my right leg hooked on the back of the chair and I ended up sprawled face down across Daniel’s lap. His quiet snort of laughter only intensified my mortification, and by the time I managed to untangle myself and stumble to my feet my face was a deep, burning red. “Whit, what are doing?”
“Eating a muffin.” Scooping up what remained of mine, she plopped herself down on the sofa and took a huge bite. “Mmmm, fiss is weally good!” she said, spraying crumbs everywhere.
Watching my best friend make quick work of the breakfast Daniel had brought, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. It wasn’t just that Whitney had walked in on Daniel and I in a rather compromising situation I would have rather remained private. It was that we’d officially crossed the line we’d both been toying with since Monday night, and now we had a witness.
I knew Whitney would never say anything. She wasn’t that sort of person. Her secrets had always been safe with me, and I knew she would keep mine just as carefully. But the facts were the facts. Whitney was an employee of Stonewall. If they ever had cause to question her about Daniel and I, she’d have to tell them what she knew. I would never ask her to lie for me. Not at the expense of her own job.
Careless, I berated myself as I tugged my sweat shirt back into place. Careless and stupid, Imogen.
“You know what she’s thinking, don’t you?” Whitney asked Daniel.
“I’m pretty sure I do,” he said.
“You better nip that in the bud. Our girl doesn’t like to break the rules, even when she has the best excuse imaginable.” Polishing off my muffin, Whitney leaned back and crossed her legs. Like me, she still wore her pajamas and for once her face was devoid of makeup, making her look more like a teenager than an adult. “Mo also doesn’t mess around. If you get what I’m saying.”
“I do.”
“And if you start something,” Whitney continued, “you better finish it the right way.”
Confused, my gaze darted across the room between the two of them, feeling as though I’d walked in on the middle of a conversation instead of being present for the start of it. What in the world were they talking about?
His expression more serious than I’d ever seen it, Daniel said, “I plan on it.”
“You know…” Squinting at him, Whitney picked up what little remained of Daniel’s muffin and chewed thoughtfully. “I think you really do. I like him, Mo.” Abruptly refocusing her attention on me, my best friend smiled brightly and tipped her stolen muffin in my direction as if it were a glass of champagne and she were making a toast. “You have my blessing.”
“Your blessing for what?” I asked cautiously.
“To have lots and lots of hot wild sex with this handsome man here. Although if what I walked in on is any indication, you’re doing that already.” She winked at me. “Go get ‘em, girl.”
“Whitney.”
“What?” All innocence, she crossed her arms and lifted her eyebrows. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to find a guy I could give my official blessing to? A very long time,” she informed Daniel. “You should have seen the stiff she dated before you. Total white collar. Thank God that didn’t go anywhere.”
I closed my eyes and counted to three, hoping Whitney would somehow magically disappear, but when I opened my eyes again she was still sitting on the couch enjoying every single second of my obvious discomfort which only intensified when Daniel’s arm shot out and hooked me around the waist.
“Sit with me,” he said, nuzzling the nape of my neck as he hauled me onto his lap. I sat awkwardly, too tense to relax. I may have been writhing against him two minutes ago, but that had been then and this was now and I’d never been very comfortable with public displays of affection.
“I don’t… That is, we’re not…” Frustrated with my inability to convey what I wanted to say, I huffed out a breath. “We’re not dating. I mean, we are,” I said quickly when Daniel pinched my butt. “We definitely are. What I mean is, we don’t know what we are. Or what we’re going to be.”
“You don’t?” Whitney’s eyes narrowed. “But he brought you muffins. If that’s not a serious declaration of love, I don’t know what is.”
“I did bring you muffins,” Daniel agreed. “And I did tell you I loved you,” he added so softly only I could hear.
Bracing one hand on his thigh, I twisted around. “I know you did but-”
“You didn’t like his muffins?” Whitney asked. “I thought they were delicious.”
“They were, but that’s not the-”
“If you don’t like blueberry,” Daniel cut in, “I can bring cinnamon next time.”
“I love cinnamon,” Whitney said.
“You haven’t lived until you’ve tried the double chocolate chunk.”
“They sound amazing. Maybe you should bring a sample over.”
He nodded. “I can do that.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Can we please stop talking about muffins?”
“Sure.” Tightening his grip around my waist, he kissed my shoulder. “What do you want to talk about, little fox?”
“I-I don’t know,” I stammered. There were plenty of things we needed to talk about, of
course, but nothing I felt comfortable addressing in front of an audience, even an audience of one. Daniel and I needed to figure out exactly what we were going to do. We needed to establish a plan. A plan supported by specific rules and boundaries. The first step would be identifying our relationship. We’d obviously moved past the ‘just dating’ phase, but despite the muffin evidence to the contrary, we weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend. At least, I didn’t think we were. Or did you automatically become an official couple when one person said ‘I love you’ to the other? Should I have said it back to Daniel? Or was it too late now? And if I did say ‘I love you’ did it mean we were agreeing to stay together? And if we did, what would happen if-
“She’s getting that look in her eye again,” Whitney warned. “Better do something quick.”
Daniel made a quiet sound of amused assent before he gently cupped my jaw and kissed me, lingering over my mouth just long enough to blur away all of my anxious thoughts and questions. As I slowly relaxed, the curve of my spine settled perfectly against his chest. We fit together like two puzzle pieces that had been made for one another, and when the kiss finally ended I was the one clinging to him.
Whitney whistled and clapped her hands. “Encore! Encore!”
Blushing, I let go of Daniel’s neck and slid off his lap. “Can you give us a few minutes Whit? Please?” I added when she started to protest.
“Fine. But I was serious about that muffin sampler. I’ll be around all day tomorrow,” she said, pointing straight at Daniel. “And just so we’re clear, I want two of the double chocolate chip.”
“You got it,” Daniel said. Waiting until she’d left the room, he slid his gaze up to me. “I guess this is the part where we discuss the pros and cons involved in furthering our relationship?” Though his words were serious, the grin lurking in the corners of his mouth was not. “At least, that’s what I’m assuming you’re about to say.”
“Yes, I think that would be best.” Giving him a stern look, I retreated to the couch and sat down on the very edge. “There is a lot more we need to consider than just our…well, that is to say…um…”
“Our chemistry?” Daniel suggested.
“Precisely.” In my sixth grade science class I’d once received a note from the boy who sat two seats behind me. I waited until after class to open it, and remember being both shocked and secretly thrilled to discover the note - scrawled out in horrible handwriting littered with various misspellings - was an invitation to be the boy’s girlfriend. The simplicity of checking yes or no had been lost on me at the time, but I yearned for it now. “Daniel, you’ve come to mean a great deal to me and I really like spending time with you-”
“I like spending time with you too, Imogen,” he said solemnly.
“-but the fact remains that you are my student and any personal relationship between us outside of the classroom is clearly prohibited.”
“According to who?” he demanded with a scowl.
“The Faculty Code of Conduct. It’s really quite clear. In section four, page seventy-”
“You read the Faculty Code of Conduct?”
I blinked at him. “Of course.”
“Of course,” he echoed as a reluctant smile replaced his scowl.
“Is there…something wrong with that?” I asked hesitantly.
“No.” The corners of his eyes crinkled as his smile deepened. “It’s just a very Imogen thing to do.”
I sat up a little straighter. “Reading the Faculty Code of Conduct is a requirement of all new employees. I’m not the only one who did it.”
“But I’m willing to bet you’re the only one who knows what’s on page seventy. It’s not an insult, little fox,” he said when I frowned. “More of an…observation.”
An observation that made me seem like a goody two-shoes, an epithet that had been following me around since grade school. Was that how Daniel saw me? As a conformist? A square? A stick-in-the-mud? Well, little did he know! “I don’t always follow the rules,” I informed him coolly.
“Oh no?” Stretching his long legs under the coffee table, he rested his hands on the wooden armrests of his chair, fingers enveloping the ends. “I don’t know if I believe you.”
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“Yeah,” he said with a lazy inclination of his head. “I think I am. Give me a few examples.”
Examples. Of course he would want examples.
“You,” I decided after a long pause.
“I’m your example?”
“Yes.”
He rubbed his chin, skimming across the golden bristle that clung to his throat and jaw. “Can’t say as I can argue with that. Seems to me like everyone should break the rules from time to time. Especially if they have a good excuse.”
“And I suppose you think you’re a good excuse?” I asked, my voice marked with suspicion as I wondered if it hadn’t been his intent all along to make our relationship seem like a good thing instead of a bad.
Clever man.
“I think I am.” His tone deepened. Grew huskier. And even though we were on opposite sides of the living room I felt the sensual weight of his gaze like a kiss when he said, “Don’t you agree, little fox?”
“I…”
“Don’t think about what you should say. Or what you think the college would want.” Gaze intent on mine, he leaned forward, forearms bracing on his knees. “What do you want, Imogen? Because I already know what I want. And I know I’m willing to break every damn rule in that conduct book to get it.”
“I…”
“Come hiking with me,” he said abruptly.
“What?” I stared blankly at him, quite certain I’d misunderstood. “What do you mean, hiking? As in the woods? Daniel, it’s almost the middle of January.” While I enjoyed physical activities and nature, my comfort level ended with country roads and cows. I knew when I moved to Maine I would eventually need to learn how to sail, ski, and snowshoe, but hiking had never been very high on my priority list, most likely because I’d always had a small fear of heights. Also of moose, which were far more aggressive than people realized.
“There’s a mountain just outside of Camden that only has an eight hundred foot summit.”
“Oh is that all,” I muttered under my breath.
“The trail is fairly easy. People hike it all year round. There’s even a road to drive up, although that sort of defeats the purpose. It will be fun.” He winked at me. “What do you say, little fox? Up for a little adventure? No one will be there,” he said, correctly anticipating my next objection. “We won’t be seen and it will give us all the time and the privacy we need to figure out exactly how we want to play this. And I promise I won’t try to distract you.”
“You won’t?” I asked suspiciously.
He held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
Don’t think about what you should say.
“Yes. I will go hiking with you.”
Daniel nodded, as though he’d been expecting my answer, but I saw the faint flicker of relief in his eyes before he managed to conceal it. Unfolding his body, he stood up and stretched, twisting his lean torso side to side before he walked over to my chair. My body came alive at his presence and I braced myself for another steamy makeout session, but he only rested his hands lightly on my shoulders and kissed the top of my head. “I have to get in a run before work. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at eight. It’ll be cold, so wear plenty of layers and boots with insulation and rubber soles. There shouldn’t be much snow, but there might be a little ice here and there.”
“Is it safe?” I asked, a bit intimidated by the idea of trying something I’d never done before.
“Imogen.” He hooked his arms around my waist as I stood up, pulling me tight against his chest. “I would never do anything to hurt you. I hope you know that.”
The double meaning behind his words did not go unnoticed. “I know,” I said softly. “It’s just…it’s a lot. I never…I never thought I would be climb
ing a mountain with you.” It wasn’t ‘I love you’, but right now it was all I was capable of giving.
Daniel’s jaw clenched.
“No matter what happens,” he said fiercely, “I won’t let you fall.”
“I know you won’t.”
As we gazed into each other’s eyes, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was the last time Daniel would ever be at my house. Were we creating the first of many wonderful memories, or making one last moment to remember when we were no longer together?
Either way, I knew one thing with absolute certainty: when Daniel and I came down off that mountain, we would either be together…or we’d be broken apart.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Bangor
“So are you guys going to have sex on a tree or what?”
Not even bothering to validate Whitney’s question with a response, I kept my eyes on the road and flicked on my left blinker as I merged smoothly into traffic. An eighteen wheeler roared past, dwarfing poor little Roo and causing my knuckles to turn white as I gripped the steering wheel with unnecessary force. “How much further until the exit?”
In preparation for my little hiking adventure with Daniel tomorrow, I’d decided to drive up to Bangor, the closest city within fifty miles, to do some shopping. Whitney had agreed to ride shotgun as long as we were back by five because she had a date to dress up for and (in her words, not mine) she needed to ‘get laid yesterday’.
“Umm…hold on. I have to respond to this text.” Whitney’s face disappeared behind a curtain of dark hair as she hunched over her phone, thumbs flying across the glossy screen.
“Whit…”
“One more sentence…okay…done!” Sitting back with a triumphant grin on her face, she smacked her lips together. “Poor guy isn’t even going to know what hit him.”
I risked a glance at her out of the corner of my eye. “And that’s a good thing?”
“Are you kidding? It’s a great thing. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: the key to any great relationship is to keep the other person guessing.”
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