Finders Keepers
Page 27
“I’m not leaving, and that’s that. Can we get on with our date now?” She brought the blankets up under her chin and returned her attention to the movie.
I sat there, watching her again, and smiled. Josie wasn’t a laid-back, easy-going woman. She had some serious spunk and fight. Some guys might have been intimidated by that, but Josie’s spunk was what caught my attention years ago. The fight in her had kept my attention. She was the only thing that had my attention. I needed to do something right then so badly my muscles ached from holding myself back. Taking a deep breath, I bolstered up my courage. “I might not have any more blankets, but there are other ways to get you warm.”
Josie’s eyes flashed my way. “What other ways?”
I scooted down until I was propped up on an elbow beside her. My heart was already thundering, and I hadn’t even touched her. “Well, there are lots of other ways, I guess . . . but I had one particular way in mind.”
“What ‘particular’ way is that?” Her voice was a few notes high, and then she licked her lips. She knew.
I leaned in closer until my mouth was just barely above hers. “This way is what I . . .” The fight I’d been battling all night, all month, the past fifteen years, finally became too much. My mouth covered hers, and when it did, Josie let out a small gasp. Shoving my hat off, she weaved her hand through my hair, and pulled me closer.
Oh, dear god . . . Her mouth moving against mine was enough to send me straight through the roof, but then her mouth parted and her tongue pressed into mine, and I almost lost it. Lost whatever I’d been holding on to, whatever had been weighing on me and holding me back. I almost lost it all with one kiss from one girl. If that didn’t make a man stop and reexamine his life, I don’t know what did.
She continued to kiss me like she was finally letting go of everything she’d been holding back while I tried to keep up and hold on to everything so I didn’t let myself go . . . all the way. Because that was the place I wanted to go with Josie. I’d already unzipped the jacket of mine she had on, but I craved more. One hand was twitching, ready to go for the hem of her dress. The other hand wanted to close in on her chest. I drilled my twitching hand into the mattress above her shoulder, bracing myself, but when Josie’s body rocked under mine, sliding so she was directly beneath me, my hand trying to reach for her br**sts didn’t need to try any longer because it was there.
“Shit, Joze,” I panted between her unyielding kisses. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to behave.” I squeezed my eyes closed, separated my mouth from hers for a moment—just long enough to gain some traction of control—and forced my hand away from a very nice part of her body.
“It’s okay. You can touch me.” She looked up at me. “I want you to. Just because we’re kissing and touching and . . .” Josie’s h*ps rocked gently, and I was fairly certain if she did that again, I’d go cross-eyed. “Let’s touch. Let’s make out. Let’s do all of those things you’ve held back from us doing.” I lifted an eyebrow and held onto my last scrap of willpower. “Okay, so not everything everything, but just because we’re not ready to go there tonight doesn’t mean we can’t do more than kiss.” Grabbing my hand, she moved it until it covered her chest again. She lowered my other hand until it curved around the outside of her thigh. As if that wasn’t enough, Josie’s hands slid inside of my shirt, one crawling up my back, the other sliding up my stomach. “Kiss me.” Her lips pressed into the corner of my mouth gently. “Touch me.” Her hand curled into me, her fingernails digging into my skin in a way that made me gasp. Smiling at me, she added, “Preferably both at once.”
I had to give my head a swift shake and pull both of my hands away from the spots she’d adhered them before I could reply. “I’m glad you’ve got that much faith in your willpower, but I don’t have that much in mine.” Josie had taken my breath away again, but in a way I liked even more than the first way. “I’d love to keep touching and kissing. Screw the movie . . . But, Joze, I don’t know how to hit the brakes once I get going. I don’t know how to pull back when I’m supposed to or when you want me to. I don’t know how to stop.” I hated admitting that to her, but I knew the only way we would make us work was if I was honest with her.
“Well you haven’t exactly had a lot of practice, have you?” She smiled and pulled the hand on my stomach out of my shirt so she could cover my cheek.
“Try no practice.” I knew I should probably roll off of Josie and go ice my nuts, but the way she was threading my hair through her fingers as she studied me with that playful look in her eyes made it difficult. Actually, it made it impossible.
“You want to get some?” Josie asked. My immediate response was a wide grin to which she gave a sigh. “Practice. You want to get some practice.”
“And this practice entails . . .?” I didn’t really give a damn as long as she stayed right where she was and kept running her fingers through my hair.
“Touching. Kissing.” She lifted her eyebrows. “Fully clothed.”
I exaggerated a grumble, but I was anything but disappointed. I’d wanted to touch and kiss Josie Gibson for so long, I didn’t care if she told me I had to do it wearing Saran Wrap. The one time I had touched her intimately, I hadn’t fully enjoyed it. She might have been drunk, but I wasn’t. I knew what I was doing, and I knew the girl I was touching wasn’t mine. The girl I wanted to love loved someone else. My best friend.
“I would love to kiss”—I dropped my mouth to her neck and skimmed my lips down it until her skin erupted in goose bumps—“and I would love to touch”—my hand combed into her hair, my fingers trailing through it and giving it a light tug that made her gasp—“you as long and as much as you’ll let me.” Moving my face over hers, I felt the skin between my brows crease. “But you’re right. I don’t have a lot of experience knowing when to quit. Or how to quit. These past couple of weeks, I’ve taken things slow because I kept my hands and mouth to myself, but now . . . Now that I’m touching and kissing you, it won’t be as easy to take things slow. I’ll need you to tell me when to stop. And you have my permission to knee me in the balls if I don’t. I want to make this work, but I need your help.” Saying all that when my breathing was already erratic should have earned me some sort of award.
“You’ve got my help,” she said. “Now would you stop worrying so much and kiss me already? I’ve been waiting weeks for you to finally cross that line, and now that you have, I’d like to get back to it please.”
Letting one hand slip under my bulky jacket, I formed it around her waist. “You know I can’t resist you when you say please.”
She winked. “I know.” Tossing the covers over our heads, Josie’s mouth reconnected with mine at the same time her hand returned to my stomach. Her fingers traced patterns into my skin as her mouth played with mine, sucking and nipping and smoothing and all of the things I didn’t know could make a person’s toes curl. Before, a kiss had been nothing more than a prelude, a stepping stone, a necessary evil. A means to an end. I’d never paid attention to a kiss because it had never been anything more than a segue to sex.
But that kiss, with that girl . . . that was something else entirely. If a person could only choose one memory to take with them into their next life, that would be the one I’d take. That would be the one I’d carry through all of my lifetimes. I didn’t need to have lived them all to realize that memory I was making with Josie was the thing men sold eternities for. It was the thing I’d sell mine for.
I managed to keep my hands on her waist and in the bend of her neck, and as each second passed, it became easier and easier to keep them from straying into newfound “danger” zones. A few weeks ago, those areas had been my primary targets. Now they were danger zones. Irony was really making me its bitch.
When Josie’s fingers trailed along my belt line, skimming just below the surface, I let out something between a sigh and a groan before returning the favor. She might have been in a dress, but fingers skimming the area just south of the navel packs a powerful punch even through clothing. When she moaned around the kiss we were tangled up in, I came close to hiking up her dress, lowering my fly, and making her moan again and louder. Then, like she knew the internal war I was fighting, Josie’s mouth slowed and her hand moved away from the sensitive skin. She knew what she was doing. She knew how to “make out” and when and how to tap the brakes. That was a relief since everything inside of me was dying to punch the gas. A minute ago, I’d been in control. Thirty seconds and one moan from Josie later, I was utterly out of control. Right then, I was back to having a grip. I was returning her slow, soft kiss when something thumped the outside of my truck, jolting us.
“Hey, Black, why’d you pay to come to a drive-in if all you were going to do was f**k your date?”
Josie froze as my eyes narrowed. “Watch your mouth, Mason,” I ordered, peeking my head out from beneath the blankets just enough so he could see my murderous expression without catching a glimpse of Josie. I didn’t mind Colt finding out about Josie and me, but I wasn’t sure if she was ready yet. Even if she was, that probably wasn’t the best time.
“What? It’s not like f**k isn’t your second language and we all know that whoever that girl is beneath you is a far cry from a lady, so don’t tell me to watch my mouth again, a**hole.”
I was ready to jump out of the back of my truck to see if Mason had such a loud mouth when I stood toe-to-toe with him, but Josie grabbed my belt buckle and tugged me back down.
“Hey, sweetheart, you do realize you’re with Garth Black, right? The guy who wouldn’t know commitment if it crawled up his ass and took residence.”
Josie gave my belt buckle another tug, and I could almost hear her thoughts—they were that strong. Why would you want to go out there with him when you can be in here with me? Exactly. No reason I’d rather go flick Colt’s hat off his head when Josie’s body was beneath mine and keeping it warm. “At least that’s not what’s shoved up my ass most nights of the week.”
Colt raised his middle finger at me as he tapped my truck again. “Way to go all out and get your truck washed for your date tonight. This thing used to be black, right?”
If Colt thought he could teach me a thing or two about trucks, he must have forgotten which state was listed on his birth certificate. “I’ll get around to washing my truck, Mason. When it rains.” Josie was still covered and quiet, but when Colt took a few steps closer, I shifted. In addition to the blankets, I was blocking her from his view. “It’s a truck, god dammit. You don’t have to wash it and wax it and tweak its headlights to get it to perform.”
“Whatever you say, Black. Whatever you say.” Colt shook his head and walked toward the concessions. “Enjoy your night.”
I sat there, watching her again, and smiled. Josie wasn’t a laid-back, easy-going woman. She had some serious spunk and fight. Some guys might have been intimidated by that, but Josie’s spunk was what caught my attention years ago. The fight in her had kept my attention. She was the only thing that had my attention. I needed to do something right then so badly my muscles ached from holding myself back. Taking a deep breath, I bolstered up my courage. “I might not have any more blankets, but there are other ways to get you warm.”
Josie’s eyes flashed my way. “What other ways?”
I scooted down until I was propped up on an elbow beside her. My heart was already thundering, and I hadn’t even touched her. “Well, there are lots of other ways, I guess . . . but I had one particular way in mind.”
“What ‘particular’ way is that?” Her voice was a few notes high, and then she licked her lips. She knew.
I leaned in closer until my mouth was just barely above hers. “This way is what I . . .” The fight I’d been battling all night, all month, the past fifteen years, finally became too much. My mouth covered hers, and when it did, Josie let out a small gasp. Shoving my hat off, she weaved her hand through my hair, and pulled me closer.
Oh, dear god . . . Her mouth moving against mine was enough to send me straight through the roof, but then her mouth parted and her tongue pressed into mine, and I almost lost it. Lost whatever I’d been holding on to, whatever had been weighing on me and holding me back. I almost lost it all with one kiss from one girl. If that didn’t make a man stop and reexamine his life, I don’t know what did.
She continued to kiss me like she was finally letting go of everything she’d been holding back while I tried to keep up and hold on to everything so I didn’t let myself go . . . all the way. Because that was the place I wanted to go with Josie. I’d already unzipped the jacket of mine she had on, but I craved more. One hand was twitching, ready to go for the hem of her dress. The other hand wanted to close in on her chest. I drilled my twitching hand into the mattress above her shoulder, bracing myself, but when Josie’s body rocked under mine, sliding so she was directly beneath me, my hand trying to reach for her br**sts didn’t need to try any longer because it was there.
“Shit, Joze,” I panted between her unyielding kisses. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to behave.” I squeezed my eyes closed, separated my mouth from hers for a moment—just long enough to gain some traction of control—and forced my hand away from a very nice part of her body.
“It’s okay. You can touch me.” She looked up at me. “I want you to. Just because we’re kissing and touching and . . .” Josie’s h*ps rocked gently, and I was fairly certain if she did that again, I’d go cross-eyed. “Let’s touch. Let’s make out. Let’s do all of those things you’ve held back from us doing.” I lifted an eyebrow and held onto my last scrap of willpower. “Okay, so not everything everything, but just because we’re not ready to go there tonight doesn’t mean we can’t do more than kiss.” Grabbing my hand, she moved it until it covered her chest again. She lowered my other hand until it curved around the outside of her thigh. As if that wasn’t enough, Josie’s hands slid inside of my shirt, one crawling up my back, the other sliding up my stomach. “Kiss me.” Her lips pressed into the corner of my mouth gently. “Touch me.” Her hand curled into me, her fingernails digging into my skin in a way that made me gasp. Smiling at me, she added, “Preferably both at once.”
I had to give my head a swift shake and pull both of my hands away from the spots she’d adhered them before I could reply. “I’m glad you’ve got that much faith in your willpower, but I don’t have that much in mine.” Josie had taken my breath away again, but in a way I liked even more than the first way. “I’d love to keep touching and kissing. Screw the movie . . . But, Joze, I don’t know how to hit the brakes once I get going. I don’t know how to pull back when I’m supposed to or when you want me to. I don’t know how to stop.” I hated admitting that to her, but I knew the only way we would make us work was if I was honest with her.
“Well you haven’t exactly had a lot of practice, have you?” She smiled and pulled the hand on my stomach out of my shirt so she could cover my cheek.
“Try no practice.” I knew I should probably roll off of Josie and go ice my nuts, but the way she was threading my hair through her fingers as she studied me with that playful look in her eyes made it difficult. Actually, it made it impossible.
“You want to get some?” Josie asked. My immediate response was a wide grin to which she gave a sigh. “Practice. You want to get some practice.”
“And this practice entails . . .?” I didn’t really give a damn as long as she stayed right where she was and kept running her fingers through my hair.
“Touching. Kissing.” She lifted her eyebrows. “Fully clothed.”
I exaggerated a grumble, but I was anything but disappointed. I’d wanted to touch and kiss Josie Gibson for so long, I didn’t care if she told me I had to do it wearing Saran Wrap. The one time I had touched her intimately, I hadn’t fully enjoyed it. She might have been drunk, but I wasn’t. I knew what I was doing, and I knew the girl I was touching wasn’t mine. The girl I wanted to love loved someone else. My best friend.
“I would love to kiss”—I dropped my mouth to her neck and skimmed my lips down it until her skin erupted in goose bumps—“and I would love to touch”—my hand combed into her hair, my fingers trailing through it and giving it a light tug that made her gasp—“you as long and as much as you’ll let me.” Moving my face over hers, I felt the skin between my brows crease. “But you’re right. I don’t have a lot of experience knowing when to quit. Or how to quit. These past couple of weeks, I’ve taken things slow because I kept my hands and mouth to myself, but now . . . Now that I’m touching and kissing you, it won’t be as easy to take things slow. I’ll need you to tell me when to stop. And you have my permission to knee me in the balls if I don’t. I want to make this work, but I need your help.” Saying all that when my breathing was already erratic should have earned me some sort of award.
“You’ve got my help,” she said. “Now would you stop worrying so much and kiss me already? I’ve been waiting weeks for you to finally cross that line, and now that you have, I’d like to get back to it please.”
Letting one hand slip under my bulky jacket, I formed it around her waist. “You know I can’t resist you when you say please.”
She winked. “I know.” Tossing the covers over our heads, Josie’s mouth reconnected with mine at the same time her hand returned to my stomach. Her fingers traced patterns into my skin as her mouth played with mine, sucking and nipping and smoothing and all of the things I didn’t know could make a person’s toes curl. Before, a kiss had been nothing more than a prelude, a stepping stone, a necessary evil. A means to an end. I’d never paid attention to a kiss because it had never been anything more than a segue to sex.
But that kiss, with that girl . . . that was something else entirely. If a person could only choose one memory to take with them into their next life, that would be the one I’d take. That would be the one I’d carry through all of my lifetimes. I didn’t need to have lived them all to realize that memory I was making with Josie was the thing men sold eternities for. It was the thing I’d sell mine for.
I managed to keep my hands on her waist and in the bend of her neck, and as each second passed, it became easier and easier to keep them from straying into newfound “danger” zones. A few weeks ago, those areas had been my primary targets. Now they were danger zones. Irony was really making me its bitch.
When Josie’s fingers trailed along my belt line, skimming just below the surface, I let out something between a sigh and a groan before returning the favor. She might have been in a dress, but fingers skimming the area just south of the navel packs a powerful punch even through clothing. When she moaned around the kiss we were tangled up in, I came close to hiking up her dress, lowering my fly, and making her moan again and louder. Then, like she knew the internal war I was fighting, Josie’s mouth slowed and her hand moved away from the sensitive skin. She knew what she was doing. She knew how to “make out” and when and how to tap the brakes. That was a relief since everything inside of me was dying to punch the gas. A minute ago, I’d been in control. Thirty seconds and one moan from Josie later, I was utterly out of control. Right then, I was back to having a grip. I was returning her slow, soft kiss when something thumped the outside of my truck, jolting us.
“Hey, Black, why’d you pay to come to a drive-in if all you were going to do was f**k your date?”
Josie froze as my eyes narrowed. “Watch your mouth, Mason,” I ordered, peeking my head out from beneath the blankets just enough so he could see my murderous expression without catching a glimpse of Josie. I didn’t mind Colt finding out about Josie and me, but I wasn’t sure if she was ready yet. Even if she was, that probably wasn’t the best time.
“What? It’s not like f**k isn’t your second language and we all know that whoever that girl is beneath you is a far cry from a lady, so don’t tell me to watch my mouth again, a**hole.”
I was ready to jump out of the back of my truck to see if Mason had such a loud mouth when I stood toe-to-toe with him, but Josie grabbed my belt buckle and tugged me back down.
“Hey, sweetheart, you do realize you’re with Garth Black, right? The guy who wouldn’t know commitment if it crawled up his ass and took residence.”
Josie gave my belt buckle another tug, and I could almost hear her thoughts—they were that strong. Why would you want to go out there with him when you can be in here with me? Exactly. No reason I’d rather go flick Colt’s hat off his head when Josie’s body was beneath mine and keeping it warm. “At least that’s not what’s shoved up my ass most nights of the week.”
Colt raised his middle finger at me as he tapped my truck again. “Way to go all out and get your truck washed for your date tonight. This thing used to be black, right?”
If Colt thought he could teach me a thing or two about trucks, he must have forgotten which state was listed on his birth certificate. “I’ll get around to washing my truck, Mason. When it rains.” Josie was still covered and quiet, but when Colt took a few steps closer, I shifted. In addition to the blankets, I was blocking her from his view. “It’s a truck, god dammit. You don’t have to wash it and wax it and tweak its headlights to get it to perform.”
“Whatever you say, Black. Whatever you say.” Colt shook his head and walked toward the concessions. “Enjoy your night.”
