Off the Record (Off 3)
Page 14
I pat the couch beside me. "Want to come cuddle and I'll protect you? The zombies may bite but I don't."
I'm half joking, half not. There's a part of me that wants her soft body pressed up next to me, and there's a part of me that hopes she takes the joke part and shoots me down with a sarcastic comment. That's the part that knows I'm playing with fire here, because my baser instincts are starting to take over. I want Ever, but it would be the worst possible move for me to make.
She looks at me, glances back at the TV--which has a particularly gruesome scene going on--then back to me. Then she stands from the couch, and for a split second, I think she'd going to leave. Instead, she crawls up beside me. I lift my arm and she scoots in closer, pulling her feet up and tucking them under her hip. My arm casually settles in over her shoulders.
The smell of her shampoo immediately assaults me. It's that same strawberry-vanilla scent I had noticed before, and for some reason, the thought of strawberries has me thinking about her lips again.
This is such a bad idea.
I turn my attention back to the TV and try to pay attention. But I can't. Ever's body is warm against mine and her sweet smell is driving me crazy. Without thinking about it, I pick up a lock of her hair with the hand that's resting over her shoulder and rub it. It's so soft...just like her skin.
I glance down at her and she's not looking at the TV. She's staring down at her lap, her eyes half closed. For a minute, I think she's falling asleep but then she says softly, "This isn't going to work."
Releasing her hair, I ask, "What's not going to work?" My voice comes out raspy and I think it's because my throat is so dry.
"Sitting so close together."
I cautiously remove my arm from around her shoulders. She looks up to me and fuck me silly, I see desire in her eyes. I am so unprepared for that look to be coming from her, I have no words.
I'm practically struck stupid when she says, "I want to kiss you, Linc."
Holy fuck a duck! I practically groan over her words. I've been fantasizing about kissing her all afternoon and evening, but in a million years I never thought she would want to kiss me back.
Then a thought strikes me. What if she's setting me up? What if she says she wants to kiss me, to induce me to make a move on her? So that she can write that Linc Caldwell is the man-whore she claims me to be.
No way am I making a fucking move right now. I wait with my breath held to see what she'll do. She stares at me for a few moments, those cornflower eyes unblinking. I still see desire there and a small kernel of hope flares inside of me that she truly does want me.
Then she raises up on her knees and my gut tightens. She lays her hands on my chest and leans toward me. Her eyes leave mine and travel down to my lips, and it takes all of my willpower not to crush her to me. As her lips near mine, I close my eyes in anticipation of what she'll do.
At first, all I get is a whisper soft touch, and I'm not sure if it's her breath or her lips that make contact with mine. She brings one hand to my face, and just rests it gently there. Her thumb smoothes along my cheekbone.
She places her mouth over my bottom lip and lightly kisses it. She moves to the corner of my mouth, and kisses there as well. All so light and soft, I can barely feel them. She lets out a soft sigh of pleasure and my dick throbs in response. She's hardly kissed me but my body is reacting viciously to her.
I wait for another kiss but it doesn't come. Instead, I feel her swing a leg over my lap and she's straddling me. My eyes fly open to stare into her impossibly big and impossibly blue ones. She brings her other hand to my face and is cradling it gently, but the look in her eyes is anything but soft. The level of desire I saw before pales in comparison to what I see now. She looks like she wants to eat me up, and the monster in my pants hardens even more.
"I'm going to really kiss you now," she says and I cannot stop the groan that comes out of my throat. My hands clench and unclench at my side. I make no move to touch her because I still want to see what she will do, but it's killing me not to grab and kiss her hard.
She finally lowers her lips to mine and presses in. She uses the force of her lips to push mine open and that sweet tongue slides in. Mine is there to meet hers, touching lightly, tentatively. She makes a soft exploration of my mouth. Her lips feel like satin against mine.
When she takes her arms and wraps them around my head, pushing our lips harder against each other and her tongue in deeper, I can't hold back anymore. I need to touch her. I allow my hands to come up and grab onto her hips. Nothing more at this time, as I'm still afraid as to where this may go and what it will mean for our relationship going forward.
Instead, I allow myself the pleasure of getting lost in this kiss. And it's a kiss like none I've ever had. I don't allow myself to think forward to what may be, but concentrate on what is now. I let myself experience the sensations surrounding me. Her sweet smell, the softness of her lips, the way her teeth just nipped at my lower lip, the surge of lust that is zinging through my body.
And then she lowers herself onto my crotch and rubs herself against me. My hips involuntarily tilt up to meet her softness and both of us softly moan at the touch. I am seconds away from ripping her clothes off and I cannot let that happen. I am not going to prove her right. I am going to show her that I am so much more than a guy who is only interested in screwing women.
So very reluctantly, my hands move from her hips to her shoulders and I push her gently back. I keep pushing until she scoots all the way off my lap. Leaning toward her, I take her face in my hands and place a kiss on her forehead.
"I think it's time I head to bed," I say as I stand from the couch.
She's confused, I can see it on her face. But hell...so am I. I don't know what to do with this situation and I need some time to figure it out.
I don't look back at her as I walk away.
I'm beyond confused. I'm stupefied and frustrated. I'm angry at myself, and angry at Linc.
It's been four days since that kiss.
That amazing kiss!
I've tried to analyze my actions. I've tried to reconcile my feelings. I'm not coming up with one damned thing that makes any sense to me.
I'm going to blame Halle Berry. The sex scene in Monster's Ball was so animalistic and heated, that I immediately started picturing me and Linc in that scene. And the minute I did that, I went red with embarrassment...because the object of my fantasy was sitting just two feet from me.
By the time he invited me to cuddle with him, I was a raging mess of hormones. All I could think about was kissing him, about having his lips against mine, and his hands all over me. I still cannot reconcile who this woman is. I am by no means a prude, but I am also not someone that would come on to a man so intently. I'm usually not bold enough or confident enough in myself as a woman.
Add in the fact that my sexual ego was practically smashed by Marc, and you should have a woman that is content to stay inside of her shell.
But apparently, Linc Caldwell does something to call to my inner sex goddess.
I had no control over my words. Once my lips touched his, I had no control over my actions. All I know is that suddenly, I'm looking at Linc Caldwell in a different light and I want him...badly.
Unfortunately, he doesn't appear to want me. He broke the kiss and went to bed. He gave me a platonic kiss on my forehead and left me alone in the living room, my body screaming for something that only he could give me.
And since that moment four days ago, he hasn't said a word about it. He's acting like it never happened, and I'm taking my cue from him. He apparently wants to put it out of his mind, and I'm trying to do the same.
But damn it all to hell...I can't. There is no way I'm going to forget that kiss and what it could have led to.
And to make matters worse, Linc has been unfailingly polite to me. We still run together every day, and I've joined him for his workouts. I even went back to the hospital again to see Kyle with him. I almost would prefer it if he w
as angry with me or something.
I glance over at him now. We're driving out to his father's house for a cookout. I made a pasta salad to bring and Linc stopped at the store to grab some beer. I'm actually thankful that we are doing something today that involves other people. Something to alleviate a bit of the tension swirling between us.
I think back to the other day when we were eating lunch after visiting Kyle that first time. I had asked Linc why he didn't tell me about his visit with Kyle and he told me it was because he couldn't trust me not to think the worst about him. He expected me to take something that he was doing from the goodness of his heart, and look at it with such skepticism, that I would never have believed the genuineness of his actions.
And it saddens me that my own distrust has caused Linc to hide a bit of himself from me.
Did I do that to Marc in any way? Was I too remote with him and that caused him to fuck around on me?
I think back over my relationship with Marc. Sure, in the beginning, I was very closed off. I was suspicious of him and his actions. When he first told me he loved me, I almost laughed at him. It was only through his perseverance that I finally wore down enough to open up.
But now I'm wondering if I really let him in all the way.
"Are you coming, Ever?"
I blink and look around. We've pulled into the driveway of Linc's childhood home and I had not even realized it. Linc is actually standing outside his car door, leaning in to look at me.
"Are you okay?" he asks.
I shake off my worries about Marc and the way I treated him. I try to put that phenomenally fantastic kiss out of my head.
"I'm fine," I say as I get out of the car.
Linc's father turns out to be one of the nicest men I've ever met. And it both warms my heart and gives me a pang of jealousy to watch him interact with Linc and Nix. They laugh and banter about with an ease that bespeaks of an unbelievably tight bond among them.
There is a lot of love and respect there. Something I'll never have with my father. I don't know if I even feel love for my dad. I know I don't like him. And I'll never respect him.
"So, Ever...what exactly did my son do to get you so riled up to write that article about him?"
We are all sitting around a large patio table in Hank Caldwell's backyard, having just gorged ourselves on barbequed chicken. I feel like a deer caught in the headlights. Everyone is silent, waiting for me to answer. I glance at Linc, but his face is impassive. I look back to Hank, and he has a look of genuine curiosity on his face. Thankfully, I don't see any anger, and I heard no bitterness in his voice. Nix has a sly smile on his face and Emily...well, she's glaring at me which has been her look of choice all afternoon.