Awakening You
Page 18
I step closer, eliminating the space between us. “Ayden, promise me, the next time you’re going to try something questionable, you’ll tell me first. I know you have this whole belief that you need to do everything alone so you won’t burden everyone with your problems, but I want to be burdened. No, I need to be burdened.”
He presses his lips together and nods once. “All right. I promise.”
“Thank you.” I free a breath of relief. “I need to always know you’re okay.” I step back and twine my fingers with his. “Now, let’s go inside and make out.”
His lips threaten to pull upward as he turns and leads me the rest of the way to the back door. I can feel the beat of his heart pulsating from his fingertips as we enter his house.
It’s quiet inside, soundless inside.
“So, no one’s home at all?” I ask as we kick off our shoes in the foyer.
He shakes his head, giving me a nervous, sidelong glance. “Nope, everyone’s gone for at least another hour.”
Biting back a smile, I let him steer me into the kitchen. The air smells like cinnamon and chocolate, and I spot a plate of cookies on the counter.
“Yes! Cookies!” I exclaim a little too excitedly. Aunt Lila owns her own catering business and is an amazing cook. “I love it when she bakes.”
He laughs at me as I swipe a cookie from off the plate. Then we start up the stairway.
As we reach the top of the stairs, he smiles at me from over his shoulder as I stuff my face with gooey chocolate. “Good?”
“Delish.” I lick my fingers clean, making exaggerated smacking sounds.
He watches me in complete fascination, his eyes burning with something I don’t quite recognize.
I lick my last finger clean. “Are you okay?”
He blinks and then clears his throat. “Yeah, I’m good.”
I eye him suspiciously. “Wait. Are we having another office moment?” I restrain a laugh when he uncomfortably shifts his weight, a flush creeping up his cheeks.
Back in the day, before we were dating, he got a hard-on while I was straddling his lap. Being slightly intoxicated, I pointed it out and embarrassed the crap out of him.
“Honestly,” he starts, carefully calculating his next words, “we’ve had a lot of office moments over the last few months.”
Acting like a ridiculously silly girl, I grin. “Really?”
“I don’t know why you look so shocked,” he quickly says, looking off over my shoulder. “Just looking at you is—does—turns me on. But kissing and touching you . . .” He blinks back at me. “But, yeah, anyway . . .” He waits, looking hopeful that I’ll let him off the hook.
Even though I love teasing him, I decide to go easy on him. “So, anything else interesting happening in your life that I should know about?”
He contemplates it, climbing to the top of the stairs. “Well, I’m getting my tattoo covered in a few days.”
“Really?” I ask excitedly.
He nods, excited himself. “I’m a little nervous about . . . well”—he gestures at his side where the tattoo is hidden beneath his shirt—“the whole process.”
I offer him an encouraging smile. “You’ll do fine. I know it. And, if you want, I can go with you and hold your hand.”
“Actually, I was kind of hoping you’d sketch the cover up tattoo for me.” He skims his finger along the inside of my wrist, causing me to shiver. “It’d be nice if you’d go with me, too, though.”
“Of course.” I puff out a stressed breath. “Man, I’m feeling a little bit nervous.”
“About what?”
“About creating something that will permanently be on your body. Just think, every time you look at it, you’ll think of me.”
His brow arches questioningly. “And that’s a bad thing?”
I shrug. “That all depends on stuff.”
“Stuff like what?”
“I don’t know, like if we break up one day or something.”
He studies me with his dark eyes, and my skin starts to heat; not with a blush, but with lust. My heart pumps fast, dances in my chest, creates a rhythm of its own, a beat that would make a fantastic song.
“I think I’m okay with something you draw being on my body forever.” Without warning, his lips come down on mine hard, giving me barely any time to process more than a single thought about what he’s said.
I have zero time to suck in a breath as his tongue slips into my mouth. He kisses me fiercely, passion burning, scorching through my body, silk spilling through my veins. It’s the kind of kiss with zero planning, the kind of kiss that means so much. The kind of kiss I’ll hold onto forever. The kind of kiss everyone should experience at least once in their lifetime.
My hands find his shoulders, my fingertips delving into the fabric of his shirt as I try to keep my legs from giving out. As if he senses my inability to stay on my feet, his hands travel down my body, trembling the entire way, and he grips onto my thighs. With a deep inhale, he holds onto me tightly and picks me up.
When his body begins to quiver, I start to lower my feet to the ground, but he constricts his grasp on me, holding me in place. He counts to five under his breath then presses me closer until so much heat is coursing through me I can barely breathe. So, so much heat. I feel like I’m drowning in heat, yet I want to sink farther, let the warmth take me down and hold me there forever.
He presses his lips together and nods once. “All right. I promise.”
“Thank you.” I free a breath of relief. “I need to always know you’re okay.” I step back and twine my fingers with his. “Now, let’s go inside and make out.”
His lips threaten to pull upward as he turns and leads me the rest of the way to the back door. I can feel the beat of his heart pulsating from his fingertips as we enter his house.
It’s quiet inside, soundless inside.
“So, no one’s home at all?” I ask as we kick off our shoes in the foyer.
He shakes his head, giving me a nervous, sidelong glance. “Nope, everyone’s gone for at least another hour.”
Biting back a smile, I let him steer me into the kitchen. The air smells like cinnamon and chocolate, and I spot a plate of cookies on the counter.
“Yes! Cookies!” I exclaim a little too excitedly. Aunt Lila owns her own catering business and is an amazing cook. “I love it when she bakes.”
He laughs at me as I swipe a cookie from off the plate. Then we start up the stairway.
As we reach the top of the stairs, he smiles at me from over his shoulder as I stuff my face with gooey chocolate. “Good?”
“Delish.” I lick my fingers clean, making exaggerated smacking sounds.
He watches me in complete fascination, his eyes burning with something I don’t quite recognize.
I lick my last finger clean. “Are you okay?”
He blinks and then clears his throat. “Yeah, I’m good.”
I eye him suspiciously. “Wait. Are we having another office moment?” I restrain a laugh when he uncomfortably shifts his weight, a flush creeping up his cheeks.
Back in the day, before we were dating, he got a hard-on while I was straddling his lap. Being slightly intoxicated, I pointed it out and embarrassed the crap out of him.
“Honestly,” he starts, carefully calculating his next words, “we’ve had a lot of office moments over the last few months.”
Acting like a ridiculously silly girl, I grin. “Really?”
“I don’t know why you look so shocked,” he quickly says, looking off over my shoulder. “Just looking at you is—does—turns me on. But kissing and touching you . . .” He blinks back at me. “But, yeah, anyway . . .” He waits, looking hopeful that I’ll let him off the hook.
Even though I love teasing him, I decide to go easy on him. “So, anything else interesting happening in your life that I should know about?”
He contemplates it, climbing to the top of the stairs. “Well, I’m getting my tattoo covered in a few days.”
“Really?” I ask excitedly.
He nods, excited himself. “I’m a little nervous about . . . well”—he gestures at his side where the tattoo is hidden beneath his shirt—“the whole process.”
I offer him an encouraging smile. “You’ll do fine. I know it. And, if you want, I can go with you and hold your hand.”
“Actually, I was kind of hoping you’d sketch the cover up tattoo for me.” He skims his finger along the inside of my wrist, causing me to shiver. “It’d be nice if you’d go with me, too, though.”
“Of course.” I puff out a stressed breath. “Man, I’m feeling a little bit nervous.”
“About what?”
“About creating something that will permanently be on your body. Just think, every time you look at it, you’ll think of me.”
His brow arches questioningly. “And that’s a bad thing?”
I shrug. “That all depends on stuff.”
“Stuff like what?”
“I don’t know, like if we break up one day or something.”
He studies me with his dark eyes, and my skin starts to heat; not with a blush, but with lust. My heart pumps fast, dances in my chest, creates a rhythm of its own, a beat that would make a fantastic song.
“I think I’m okay with something you draw being on my body forever.” Without warning, his lips come down on mine hard, giving me barely any time to process more than a single thought about what he’s said.
I have zero time to suck in a breath as his tongue slips into my mouth. He kisses me fiercely, passion burning, scorching through my body, silk spilling through my veins. It’s the kind of kiss with zero planning, the kind of kiss that means so much. The kind of kiss I’ll hold onto forever. The kind of kiss everyone should experience at least once in their lifetime.
My hands find his shoulders, my fingertips delving into the fabric of his shirt as I try to keep my legs from giving out. As if he senses my inability to stay on my feet, his hands travel down my body, trembling the entire way, and he grips onto my thighs. With a deep inhale, he holds onto me tightly and picks me up.
When his body begins to quiver, I start to lower my feet to the ground, but he constricts his grasp on me, holding me in place. He counts to five under his breath then presses me closer until so much heat is coursing through me I can barely breathe. So, so much heat. I feel like I’m drowning in heat, yet I want to sink farther, let the warmth take me down and hold me there forever.
