I focused on the TV even harder, all the while sucking on that licorice.
And then I heard him make a sound. At first I wondered if a wild animal was right beside me, the noise gruff and harsh, more of a growl than anything else. I looked at Jameson.
My breath caught.
My heart stuttered.
And the world faded away.
All because of the way he looked at me.
It was the way I’d always wanted him to see me… with longing in his eyes because he wanted me.
God, he really was looking at me like he… wanted me.
“You okay?” I felt my brows lower as I stared at him, concern coming up thick in me. “You getting sick? Is that why you made that sound.” I had pulled the latter out of my ass because the way he looked at me told me he was feeling just fine. “Jameson?” Was that my voice, all thready and thin, all breathy and filled with desire? Yeah. Yeah it was, and it was all because of the combination of the alcohol and the way he watched me.
He had yet to respond, but the hooded look in his eyes had my breath catching all over again. Although I could smell the liquor we’d consumed bouncing through the air between us, the strongest scent of all was Jameson and whatever cologne he wore. It had deep and dark notes laced in a very masculine aroma. And it made me uncomfortably wet.
“I always wanted to see what it would be like to kiss you,” he murmured, his voice slightly slurred, his eyes locked on my mouth.
Yeah… we’d just totally gone down this rabbit hole.
I didn’t know how long I sat there, just letting his words really sink in. I inhaled, wondering if I’d been holding my breath this entire time.
Okay, so I was drunk. Not so trashed that I was seeing double or couldn't walk a straight line. Well, the latter was debateable, but the point was I was with it enough that I could see the way Jameson stared at me, and most certainly heard him clearly enough.
“I always wanted to see what it would be like to kiss you.”
He had? Or was he just drunk that he thought he did, or this sounded like the best thing to say at the moment?
Either way, I really didn’t care because my body was humming and singing and doing a little jig.
“You have?” I finally said after what seemed like far too long of us sitting here in silence. He was still looking at my lips, but after I spoke he slowly lifted his eyes from my mouth and looked directly at me.
“I’ve thought about kissing you so many fucking times it’s become this obsession.”
Well. Okay then.
His brows were pulled down low, his focus on my lips for only a second before he looked back in my eyes. I should have said something, anything, but I was struck silent by his words… ones I’d longed to hear for so long.
And the longer we stared at each other, the more I felt that electric heat bounce between us.
“Jameson?” I whispered his name, wondering if he’d heard me or if I’d spoken that word in my head only.
He glanced away, breaking the spell, only to run a hand over his jaw and glance back at me right away. It was so damn hot in here. Why was it so hot?
His eyes lowered back to my lips and I forced myself not to lick them.
A part of me said this was a bad idea--whatever this was. But a way bigger part of me… the part that wanted Jameson and only him, told that other voice to back the hell off and sit down.
I was drunk.
He was drunk.
He admitted to wanting to kiss me.
And I wouldn't stop him.
But had anything ever felt more right than this very moment? No, no I didn’t think so.
I didn’t know how long we stared at each other, but I felt the arousal heighten, and knew my pulse was pounding rapidly in my wrists, at the base of my throat. I could feel it.
The way he looked at me was full of heat, need, the booze making everything in the peripheral seem hazy, distorted, as if I could almost imagine this wasn’t real life.
Maybe I’d passed out and I was dreaming, having this wonderful fantasy where I finally got the one person I’d always wanted.
God, could something happen between us right now in this moment?
I watched as Jameson lifted his hand, and a second later he was cupping my cheek, his fingers big and masculine against my skin, his flesh like fire on me.
“Lia,” he whispered, still staring at my lips, his cheeks tinged pink, his pupils fully dilated. And then he leaned in close, so close I felt how warm his breath was, smelled the whiskey he’d been taking shots of all night.