Authors: Deborah Bladon
Chapter 10
His kiss is slow and sensual. He runs his tongue along my bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth. I open my mouth to take him in. I can taste his breath and feel his desire. He pulls me closer. His hand reaches behind me, pushing my back into him. I reach for his face with both my hands, cradling him. The soft stubble of the evening scrapes against my palms. As his tongue dances with mine I briefly flash to what it would feel like to have that stubble brush against my thigh and to feel this tongue at my core. If his kiss is any indication of his skill, I'd be lost in the depths of a pleasure I can't even imagine. This is what a prelude to ecstasy must feel like.
"Come home with me." He breathes the words into my mouth.
I want to. I want to so much. I pull back from the kiss. "I can't."
"We can just kiss." He smiles as he traces the outline of my top lip with his index finger. "I could kiss these beautiful lips all night."
I shiver at his touch. This is what my dreams have been made of since I knew what intimacy was. I've longed for a man just like this to desire me. I've wanted to be wanted. I've wanted a man to ache for my touch.
"I can't," I repeat. "I need to go home."
He scans my face. I know he's looking for some hint as to why I'm pulling back. I can't tell him. I don't want him to know about the scar.
"What is it?" he asks as he pulls me closer again. "Don't you want me?"
I almost laugh at the suggestion. Don't I want him? Does the man own a mirror? How could I not want him? How could any woman breathing not want this man inside of her?
"I told you." I pull back slightly. I can't think straight when I can feel his warm, delicious breath dancing over my skin. "I don't sleep with men I don't know."
"You know me now," he breathes. "I won't do anything you don't want me to do."
He's so tempting. I've never once thrown caution to the wind and followed my desires. What would happen if I did go home with him? What would he think of the scar?
"Why do you want me?" I ask, the words tumbling out quickly. "Why me? I'm not like Petra."
His eyes search my face. The silence in the car is deafening save for the rain bouncing off the roof. "That's why," he says in a muted tone. "You're not like Petra. You're not like anyone."
I want to tell him to take me home with him. I want the world to melt away so I can experience a man like this at least once in my life. I want the scar to disappear. I want my inhibitions to melt away. I want to be like Alexa. I just want him. All of him. Now.
I hang my head low staring at the black pants I'm wearing. "I'd like to go home."
I watch him from the corner of my eye. He moves with slow hesitation. I hear the car's engine roar to a start. "Buckle up, Sadie." He reaches over me to grab the seat belt and pull it into place.
I clench my fists together on my lap. Damn my heart. Damn my life. I may have just fucked up the best thing that's ever happened in my dull, boring, and predictable existence.
***
"He walked me to the door, kissed me on the nose and said goodnight." I cringe as I recount the events of last night to Alexa.
She takes a lazy drink of coffee from a small paper cup she just filled. "You're saying that he wanted to take you home so he could ravage your body all night and you actually said no?"
I nod. I can almost see the wheels turning in her brain. She's searching the air around us for just the right thing to say. It's not going to be pretty. In fact, it's going to sting. I brace myself for the onslaught.
"I get it," she blurts out before she turns to pour the remaining coffee from her cup down the drain in the kitchen. "I need to remake the pot this came from, it's disgusting."
"That's it?" I ask tightly. "You're not going to give me a lecture on why I should have slept with him?"
I watch as she reaches for a container of robust dark roast. She methodically fills the machine with water before placing the grounds in the filter. "That's it." She doesn't turn to look at me when she finally responds.
"Why not?" I push. This isn't Alexa at all. Typically, by now, she'd be reading me the riot act about missing out on life and being too self-conscious for my own good.
She turns abruptly so she's facing me directly. "You're old enough to make your own decisions." She reaches to rest her arms on my shoulders, clasping her hands behind my neck. "You need to stop worrying so much about this..." her voice trails as she bows her head down motioning towards my chest. "It's part of you. Just a part. Don't let your life slip by because you can't see that."
I stare in stunned silence as she walks away towards the front of the bistro. "Just a part," I whisper as I run my hand down the front of my apron. Maybe she's right. Maybe I have to stop worrying so I can start living.
Chapter 11
"I'm looking for Sadie Lockwood." The sound of an unfamiliar male voice makes me pop my head around the corner to see who is standing by the counter.
I'm greeted by the sight of a massive floral bouquet and two burly hands holding onto it. His entire face is obliterated by the fragrant arrangement.
"I'll take it." Alexa reaches across the counter to cradle the flowers in her arms. "Do you need me to sign anything?"
"Nope." He tosses back over his shoulder as he heads for the door. "We're all good."
"Sadie." She pushes the flowers into my hands. "They're from him. They have to be."
I smile as my heart races. My mother loves fresh flowers so there's always at least a few bouquets dotting the house but this is unlike anything I've ever seen. The mixture of exotic flowers is breathtaking. I place them down on the counter as I reach for the card.
"What does it say?" Alexa is hovering over my shoulder. I can feel her breath on my neck.
I don't want to be rude but this feels important and special. "Let me look first?" I ask even though it's more of a declaration.
"Sure." I can sense the disappointment in her voice. "Let me know, okay?"
I nod as I scurry to the back room. I sit in the chair by the desk and quickly run my finger along the seam of the small envelope, tearing it open.
"Dinner. Tonight at eight. Just one kiss. H."
I hold the card in my hands, staring at the words. This is it. This is my second chance with him.
"I can't stand the suspense." Alexa peeks around the corner at me. "What does it say?"
I lower my gaze to the card; pull in a deep breath and say, "I'm having dinner with him tonight. I need you to help me pick out a dress."
"That's my girl." She claps her hands together in giddy excitement. "At least one of us is getting laid tonight."
"Alexa?" Josephine's stern tone coming from the front of the bistro makes us both laugh out loud.
***
I open the door and I'm instantly assaulted with how amazing he looks. He's wearing gray slacks and a white sweater. The fabric is so thin I can almost make out the toned definition of his chest and abdomen. His black hair is pushed back from his forehead revealing his chiseled features. His blue eyes sparkle in the soft setting light of the evening.
"You look beautiful, Sadie." He drinks me in and I stand proudly on display. Alexa helped me get ready. The white dress I'm wearing is short enough to show off my toned legs. My back is bare which makes up for the high neckline in the front. I left my hair down letting the natural curl course through it after I showered.
I smile softly. My heart is pounding in anticipation of what's to come. This feels like a real date and I haven't been on one of those for so long.
"Are we set?" he asks the question as he steps next to me, his hand caressing the soft skin of my back.
I push back into his touch. I want to savor every moment of this evening. I know his attention is likely fleeting. This is going to be an experience I'll remember for a long time and I don't want to waste a moment worrying about anything.
"Where are we going for dinner?" I follow his lead and take his hand as we step down the concrete steps and follow the path to the street.
"My place," he says casually as he opens the passenger door of his car.
I freeze in place. It wasn't supposed to happen this quickly. I thought we'd have dinner first. I thought I could down a few glasses of wine to help curb my inhibitions. "Your place?" The question sounds harsher than I intended.
"Is that a problem?" He motions for me to get into the car.
"No." I say bluntly. "I just assumed we'd be going to a restaurant."
"I eat out every night. I get sick of the noise and the rush." He scans my face as if he's searching for reassurance that he's made a good choice in me. "I'll order something in and we can eat at my place. It's quiet. We can talk."
I don't say anything as I carefully lower myself into the car. Maybe I should have given this more thought. Maybe I'm not ready for this after all.
Chapter 12
"I didn't know anyone alive could enjoy sushi as much as me." He pushes his empty plate to the side of the table. "You have a great appetite for someone who doesn't even weigh one hundred pounds."
I laugh out loud at the suggestion. "I weigh more than a hundred pounds." I take another long sip from the wine glass he's already refilled once for me.
"Okay, one hundred and one pounds." He laughs and stands to clear the table. "You're very tiny. I'm not sure where all that food went."
I giggle as I watch him move towards the kitchen. His home is spacious, bright and beautifully decorated. It screams of personal style with eclectic artwork on the walls and a bookshelf dedicated primarily to vintage titles. I caught a few familiar names when I first arrived but I haven't had a chance to go back to drink in all that literary gold.
"Do you play?" I nod towards the baby grand piano that is nestled into a corner by a huge bay window.
"No." He laughs as he guides me towards it. "My mother plays. It's here for when she visits."
I sit down at the bench and run my fingers over the keys. "Where does she live?"
He settles in next to me now, his hand resting on my thigh. "New York."
I scan the keys before my eyes move upwards to the top of the piano. A small, but vibrant, bouquet of dyed roses sits in a curved vase. Next to it are several framed photographs.
"Thank you again for the beautiful flowers," I say as I search the pictures for his face. I settle on one of him when he was younger. He looks as though he's in his late teens. "Is that you?" I reach for the frame.
"That's me," he says huskily. "That's Jax." He points to the other man in the picture.
I pull the picture closer noting how similar Jax looks now to the boy staring back at me from the frame. "You two have been friends a long time." It's a statement, not a question.
"We have." He reaches to touch the edge of the frame but I don't relinquish my hold.
"Who is she?" I nod towards the woman in the center of the photograph. She's stunning. Her hair is a vibrant red, her eyes a molten blue. She's firmly got Hunter's hand grasped in her own.
"Jax's cousin." The tension on the frame is more apparent. He's trying to pull it out of my grasp.
"She's holding your hand." I note with a faint smile. I can sense from his reaction and his palpable desire to get the picture away from me that he's not that comfortable talking about her.
"We dated briefly." He yanks the picture from my grip now. "It was a long time ago."
"She's really beautiful," I offer. It's obvious that this woman meant something to him judging by his reaction. "Did you meet her through Jax?"
"I knew her first." He stares at the picture that is now in his lap.
"What's her name?" My curiosity combined with the wine is making it easier to ask questions I normally wouldn't.
"Coralie." His voice breaks as he says it. "Coral."
"That's so pretty." I push myself away from the piano seat. "I need to use the washroom."
"Down the hall." He points past the kitchen. "It's the first door on your right."
I walk swiftly towards the reprieve of the restroom. I can't believe that just happened. Why did I pick up that frame and ask so many questions? Why does a girl he dated when he was a teenager still cause that powerful of a reaction in him? Dammit. I wish I had brought my phone to the washroom with me so I could have texted Alexa.
I take my time glaring at my image in the mirror before I return back to where Hunter is. He's staring out the bay window. I run my eyes across the top of the piano and notice immediately that the picture we were just looking at is now nowhere in sight.
"I'm sorry," I mutter.
He turns slowly to look at me, a faint smile pulling at his lips. "Sorry for?"
"For asking about Coral?" I spit out.
He cringes as I say her name. "It was so long ago. It feels like a lifetime ago. I was a kid."
"It didn't end well, did it?" I want to show him that I'm mature enough to deal with a discussion about another woman. Obviously, there have been a lot of other women in his life.
He brings his palms to his face, cradling his head briefly. "You could say that."
"I'm sorry." I offer again.
"Enough with the sorry this and sorry that, sunshine," he says it so effortlessly. "Let's talk about you."
"Me?" I giggle as he reaches to pull me closer, his hands circling my waist.
"Who was your first love?" He kisses the tip of my nose as the question leaves his lips.
I want to ask why he picked that particular question. Coral must have been his first love or he wouldn't be thinking about it. He has to be over her by now. He couldn't have been more than fifteen or sixteen-years-old in that picture.
"That was Johnny McDunkin or McDougall. Something with a Mc." I laugh.
A slow smile spreads across his handsome face. "He was that forgettable?"
"We had a clandestine affair in a supply closet in middle school." I quip.
"You had a what?" He pulls me closer to him now. I can feel the outline of his body pressed against mine.
"We kissed and he touched my breast and then a teacher caught us." I snuggle my cheek into his chest. "It was all very scandalous."