Inside Out
Page 33
“I do. It means something to me that you care. That I know you do.” He shrugged, and she felt the emotion behind the words blanket her.
They drove on for a while in comfortable silence until they got to his condo. Once she turned the engine off, the silence drew around them. Just Andrew and Ella. Alone. Butterflies in her belly, nervous and excited all at once. He did something to her, and she liked it.
He smelled incredibly good. Manly and sexy, and how is it that she’d never really noticed how good a man could smell? She hoped he couldn’t see her sniffing at him and think she was a weirdo.
He looked out the window for the longest time, and she unabashedly stared at him, taking that opportunity to do so without him noticing. Truly Andrew Copeland was simply ridiculously handsome. Outrageously so. Strong features, his cheekbones were perfect, his lush lips surrounded by a closely cropped goatee and mustache. His lashes, dark and long, only highlighted the intense blue of his eyes. Add the body, tall, broad, muscled and tattooed and the slow, sexy drawl and you had an irresistible picture. And that didn’t take into account what a fabulous person he was in addition to the way he looked.
Each time she was with him, she learned more; he let her in a bit, and that trust, being a woman who found it hard to give trust herself, meant a lot.
Andrew Copeland was so much more than she’d known before. Complicated. Sensitive. Talented.
He sighed, not in a beleaguered way, but as if he’d come to some sort of internal decision. She fisted the fingers itching to touch his skin. To comfort and to inflame.
“Andrew, thanks for all your help tonight. With the lessons and all. I appreciate it.”
He turned to her, and the breath gusted from her lips at the raw intensity he wore on his features. She swallowed and tried not to gawk. He was so utterly gorgeous he stole her words. And he didn’t look grateful just then. He looked hungry. For her.
He took her hand, turning it upward, and pressed a kiss to the heart of her palm, sending a shiver through her.
“You move me, Ella. It’s my pleasure. It’s win-win for me. Keeping you safe and being with you.”
She struggled to keep her composure, leaving her hand in his. “I can’t believe you’re saying all this after all these years.”
“At first you were with someone else. And then you were hurting and had other priorities. I had to wait it out. Wait you out.”
She wanted to cry, wanted to jump on him, wanted to throw her arms around him for understanding and for wanting her anyway. He said things to her, things that burrowed beneath the self-doubt and pain, warming her, making her believe in more than just getting through each day.
All she could do was look at him there, so very close to her, smelling all sexy and stuff, rumpling up her thoughts.
“Damn it, Ella,” he stopped, running his free hand through his hair. He leaned toward her, and she stilled inside, knowing he meant to kiss her. Again.
She closed those few last inches, moving her body to his, the center console keeping her from jumping into his lap. The last thing she saw was the curve of his lips right before he made contact. Her eyes slid closed as the warmth of him blanketed her.
He took it slow, his hands grasping hers instead of holding her body close. Her system lit up like a pinball machine. She’d never been so ridiculously turned on by a kiss. How long had she waited for this? How long had this moment played itself in her fantasies?
Reality was far better than a fantasy.
Cope thought he’d die when he finally touched his mouth to hers, but then she made a soft squeak, moving closer to him, letting go of one of his hands to slide the other up the wall of his chest and up his neck into his . . . she tugged his hair, just enough to let him know she wanted more and wanted him closer. Waves of warmth, of pleasure and desire, rippled outward from his scalp down to his toes, making a long visit to his cock. He was pretty sure his c**k was even more excited than the rest of him. It was different because she’d made the first move this time. She’d closed the gap between them in that shy/ bold way she had.
He groaned into her mouth as she opened to him. Her tongue was tentative at first, nearly shy. Her taste, bright and seductive, drove him, along with the curve of her bottom lip, so juicy it called out to be nipped.
So he did, and the sound she made tore at his self-control. So much so that he laved away the sting and began to pull back before things got any hotter. He wanted to take her long and slow, not in a car on a street outside his house.
At the loss of contact, her lids flew up, and the stormy green haze cleared, leaving her expression distressed. He laughed, feeling much the same way.
“I know. But if I don’t stop right now, the police will be called, and I’ll have to explain to an old workmate of mine why I’m necking with a beautiful woman in public.” He rubbed the back of his neck and gave in, leaning toward her to take her lips again.
This time she nipped his bottom lip, sucking it into the heat of her mouth, and his c**k wanted to burst through the front of his sweats. He’d be masturbating about three seconds after he got through his front door at this rate. Again. His c**k would fall off at this rate.
Breath heaving, he pulled back, pressing his body to the seat to keep from lunging at her again. Damn, she tasted so f**king good, like nothing he’d ever imagined before but would be damned without now.
Still, he didn’t want her to think he didn’t want more of her. But he’d not scare her with the realization that he wanted all of her. Not just then. “Tonight has been a very big win in the fantasy-gone-reality column. I’ve wondered what you would kiss like for years. That peck from the dance club wasn’t nearly enough.”
They drove on for a while in comfortable silence until they got to his condo. Once she turned the engine off, the silence drew around them. Just Andrew and Ella. Alone. Butterflies in her belly, nervous and excited all at once. He did something to her, and she liked it.
He smelled incredibly good. Manly and sexy, and how is it that she’d never really noticed how good a man could smell? She hoped he couldn’t see her sniffing at him and think she was a weirdo.
He looked out the window for the longest time, and she unabashedly stared at him, taking that opportunity to do so without him noticing. Truly Andrew Copeland was simply ridiculously handsome. Outrageously so. Strong features, his cheekbones were perfect, his lush lips surrounded by a closely cropped goatee and mustache. His lashes, dark and long, only highlighted the intense blue of his eyes. Add the body, tall, broad, muscled and tattooed and the slow, sexy drawl and you had an irresistible picture. And that didn’t take into account what a fabulous person he was in addition to the way he looked.
Each time she was with him, she learned more; he let her in a bit, and that trust, being a woman who found it hard to give trust herself, meant a lot.
Andrew Copeland was so much more than she’d known before. Complicated. Sensitive. Talented.
He sighed, not in a beleaguered way, but as if he’d come to some sort of internal decision. She fisted the fingers itching to touch his skin. To comfort and to inflame.
“Andrew, thanks for all your help tonight. With the lessons and all. I appreciate it.”
He turned to her, and the breath gusted from her lips at the raw intensity he wore on his features. She swallowed and tried not to gawk. He was so utterly gorgeous he stole her words. And he didn’t look grateful just then. He looked hungry. For her.
He took her hand, turning it upward, and pressed a kiss to the heart of her palm, sending a shiver through her.
“You move me, Ella. It’s my pleasure. It’s win-win for me. Keeping you safe and being with you.”
She struggled to keep her composure, leaving her hand in his. “I can’t believe you’re saying all this after all these years.”
“At first you were with someone else. And then you were hurting and had other priorities. I had to wait it out. Wait you out.”
She wanted to cry, wanted to jump on him, wanted to throw her arms around him for understanding and for wanting her anyway. He said things to her, things that burrowed beneath the self-doubt and pain, warming her, making her believe in more than just getting through each day.
All she could do was look at him there, so very close to her, smelling all sexy and stuff, rumpling up her thoughts.
“Damn it, Ella,” he stopped, running his free hand through his hair. He leaned toward her, and she stilled inside, knowing he meant to kiss her. Again.
She closed those few last inches, moving her body to his, the center console keeping her from jumping into his lap. The last thing she saw was the curve of his lips right before he made contact. Her eyes slid closed as the warmth of him blanketed her.
He took it slow, his hands grasping hers instead of holding her body close. Her system lit up like a pinball machine. She’d never been so ridiculously turned on by a kiss. How long had she waited for this? How long had this moment played itself in her fantasies?
Reality was far better than a fantasy.
Cope thought he’d die when he finally touched his mouth to hers, but then she made a soft squeak, moving closer to him, letting go of one of his hands to slide the other up the wall of his chest and up his neck into his . . . she tugged his hair, just enough to let him know she wanted more and wanted him closer. Waves of warmth, of pleasure and desire, rippled outward from his scalp down to his toes, making a long visit to his cock. He was pretty sure his c**k was even more excited than the rest of him. It was different because she’d made the first move this time. She’d closed the gap between them in that shy/ bold way she had.
He groaned into her mouth as she opened to him. Her tongue was tentative at first, nearly shy. Her taste, bright and seductive, drove him, along with the curve of her bottom lip, so juicy it called out to be nipped.
So he did, and the sound she made tore at his self-control. So much so that he laved away the sting and began to pull back before things got any hotter. He wanted to take her long and slow, not in a car on a street outside his house.
At the loss of contact, her lids flew up, and the stormy green haze cleared, leaving her expression distressed. He laughed, feeling much the same way.
“I know. But if I don’t stop right now, the police will be called, and I’ll have to explain to an old workmate of mine why I’m necking with a beautiful woman in public.” He rubbed the back of his neck and gave in, leaning toward her to take her lips again.
This time she nipped his bottom lip, sucking it into the heat of her mouth, and his c**k wanted to burst through the front of his sweats. He’d be masturbating about three seconds after he got through his front door at this rate. Again. His c**k would fall off at this rate.
Breath heaving, he pulled back, pressing his body to the seat to keep from lunging at her again. Damn, she tasted so f**king good, like nothing he’d ever imagined before but would be damned without now.
Still, he didn’t want her to think he didn’t want more of her. But he’d not scare her with the realization that he wanted all of her. Not just then. “Tonight has been a very big win in the fantasy-gone-reality column. I’ve wondered what you would kiss like for years. That peck from the dance club wasn’t nearly enough.”
