Cards of Love: Knight of Swords

Sixteen

Roman

I really did have work to do that afternoon, but it was impossible to concentrate around Juliet. Not in the sexy dress I’d been admiring since the moment I saw her this morning. It appeared to be see-through, but wasn’t. Trust me, I’d been staring holes through it all day long.

We focused on finishing her photos first, before moving to mine. That way if we ran out of time, she wouldn’t be late turning in her assignment. Of course I didn’t phrase it to her that way. Then she’d insist on me going first and I just wasn’t that kin

d of guy.

She always came first.

While we waited for the photos to develop, she perched on the counter, swinging her legs and lightly tapping the cabinets below with her heels.

The project was to make something that scares you look beautiful. Working on the assignment together gave us a chance to learn more about each other. I’d learned Juliet was terrified of bees. So we spent a couple afternoons in the park photographing honey bees as they buzzed from flower to flower.

“This one’s too fuzzy,” she said, pointing to a half-processed picture hanging in front of her.

“It’s too soon to tell.”

“I think I understand why the world moved to digital photography,” she grumbled.

“You’re cute.”

She scrunched up her nose at me, only proving my point.

I stepped in between her legs, resting my hands at a spot right above her knees, pushing her dress up to run my hands over her soft skin. Those amazing little legs of hers wrapped around me, pulling me closer.

A shiver of pleasure raced down my spine as she slid her arms over my shoulders, threading her fingers through my hair and raking her nails over my scalp. I’d come to crave her touch. It felt so good to be touched and wanted. Even a look from her had the power to light a fire inside me I never knew existed.

Our lips met. Juliet wasn’t shy about kissing me anymore. We kissed for hours some afternoons. Never going further than stroking our hands over each other. I was dying to do more. On those days my body thrummed with the need to be inside her for hours after we’d said goodbye. No amount of shower jerk-off sessions cured my need.

I wanted to be surrounded by her warmth, swallowed whole by her desire. With Juliet I could shut off my brain for a few merciful minutes and be happy. I never pressured her to go further though. Just like with kissing, I wanted to wait until she was ready. Until she came to me.

I’d take it from there.

Today, I found it harder to restrain myself than usual. I blamed the damn dress. All day long I fantasized about sliding my hands up her legs, under the filmy material. I’d sat through all my classes but couldn’t remember a word of the teachers’ lectures.

She licked her tongue against mine. My hands slid higher. I swear I almost came in my pants when my thumbs grazed her inner thighs and she ever so slightly spread her legs apart.

Inviting me to do more?

The tip of my thumb brushed against her hot center. No, that was her satin underwear. Her damp satin underwear.

That was a good sign, right?

Keeping one hand clamped around her thigh, I continued to brush my thumb along her seam, pressing harder with each pass. Exploring. Discovering. Her breath hitched and she moaned as I slowed at the top. I pressed harder over that spot and she squirmed.

Christ, I needed another hand to touch her in all the ways I wanted. Her hard nipples poked against my chest and I so badly wanted to tease my fingers over the tips. But then I’d have to take my hand out from under her dress and release her thigh and I didn’t want to let go.

I ground my finger into her harder, moving my thumb in slow circles. Her breathing sped up, sharp panting puffs of air against my cheek. She tore her mouth from mine. “Roman,” she whispered.

Our foreheads touched. “Does that feel good? Tell me what you need, Juliet.”

“I…I don’t know.” Another low moan tore out of her throat and her hips jerked, pressing her warm, wet, satin-covered center into my hand. “Oh!” she gasped.

I caught the louder moans with my kisses. My hand squeezed her ass, dragging her to the very edge of the counter. I pressed my hardness against her and she went off completely. Crying out too loud for me to silence with a few kisses. I clamped one hand over her mouth, the last thing we needed was someone busting in on us and ruining what was probably the high point of my life. She bucked and jerked her body against mine. Clothes in the way or not, the friction felt amazing.

Oh, shit.

Familiar white lightning shot down my spine. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to rein it in, but it was too late. We both came, panting, sweating, and whispering each other’s names.

“Roman?” She cupped my face with her hands and dragged me down for a long, lingering kiss.

So intoxicated with the moment, at first I didn’t realize what the sound coming from the door meant.

“Hello?” Mr. Broom shouted, then knocked again.

Our teacher’s voice snapped me into action. I flipped Juliet’s dress down, smoothing it over her legs before reaching over and unlocking the door. “Hey, Mr. Broom,” I greeted, trying to sound casual while ignoring the sticky mess in my shorts.

“Oh! It’s you two. I wasn’t sure who was in here. How’s it going?” he asked without a hint of I-caught-you-in-the-act coloring his voice.

Behind me, I heard the soft rustle of Juliet’s dress and click of her sandals as she slid off the counter to the floor. “I’m not so sure, Mr. Broom. I don’t think mine came out very well.”

She sounded perfectly normal and calm. Was I the only one with a heart about to explode from my chest?

“Let’s have a look,” Mr. Broom said.

Juliet peeked over his shoulder and gave me a soft, reassuring smile.

“I’ll, uh be right back.” I escaped the room, leaving the door slightly ajar and ran to the bathroom to clean up.

Seventeen

Juliet

My heart wouldn’t stop racing even after Roman left. Mr. Brooks went over my photos with me, but I barely heard a word. I nodded and smiled, even took some notes while he explained things to me, but none of it registered.

“Did Roman get to his photos yet?” Mr. Broom asked.

“No, we were going to do them next.”

“Very well.” He touched the edge of one of Roman’s photos from last week’s assignment. “He’s very talented.”

“He is,” I agreed.

Mr. Broom almost seemed troubled and my stomach clenched in fear. Did he know what Roman and I were doing before he came in here? Could he smell it? Am I blushing?

“Your friendship seems to be a good influence on him, Juliet.”

“You think so?”

“Yes.” His gaze strayed to the slightly open door. “The kids I see from Pine Bluff…” his voice trailed off for a moment. “They don’t get a lot of encouragement. Half the time they drop out or end up in jail.”

I wasn’t sure what to say besides, “That’s awful.”

“It really is. It’s unfair. They’re not given the same chance most of the kids here are.” He blew out an annoyed breath. “Even some of my co-workers don’t want kids in the system here.” He shook his head. “Anyway, I shouldn’t be discussing any of this with you. Forget I said anything.”

“Okay, Mr. Broom.”

He glanced at the clock. “You two should probably wrap up for the day. I’m sure Mr. Hawkins has to—”

“I have to be back by four,” Roman interrupted, coming inside.

“Ah, very good. You probably have time to develop one more set. I’ll let you get to it,” Mr. Broom nodded at both of us before backing out of the room.

Shaking his head, Roman gave me a half smile. “You okay?” he asked in a low voice.

I nodded slowly. The fear and tension from Mr. Broom almost walking in on us overshadowed all the amazing feelings Roman had given me earlier.

“Are you?” I asked. He’s almost seemed as if he was in pain right before Mr. Broom’s interruption.

I swear Roman blushed. His gaze strayed to the side. “I, uh, haven’t had an accident like that since…well, never.”

Accident? I wasn’t sure what he meant. Well, I had some idea. My own cheeks turned hot and I looked away. “Sorry.”

He grazed my chin with the back of his hand, turning me to face him. “Don’t apologize.” He swooped in closer for a kiss. “That was amazing. Thank you.”

Feeling bold, daring, sexy even, I raised up on my tiptoes an

d whispered in his ear, “I think my panties are ruined.”

He groaned in response. “What are you trying to do to me, woman?”

Woman. I liked the way that sounded coming from his lips. I certainly felt womanly around him. But I also knew we had work to do and I wanted him to get home on time so that I could see him again tomorrow.

Selfish, I know, but I couldn’t bear him getting into trouble because of me.

“Come on, we need to finish your photos.” Another streak of boldness forced me to add, “If you do a good job, I’ll let you see how damp you made my panties.”

“Jesus, you’re killing me,” he grumbled but got to work.

Eighteen

Roman

The photos turned out pretty damn good and I’m not usually one to compliment my own work. We hurried to clean up and put everything away before heading home.

Juliet danced ahead of me as we walked toward the park. “I wish I could take you out to celebrate.” The wistful catch in her tone pierced my chest.

Every day it got harder and harder to say goodbye to her after school. The weekends were torture because I couldn’t see her at all. Sometimes I’d sneak in a phone call or two. Most of the time I spent writing letters that I’d hand her Monday morning.

“Oh, look at all the daisies!” She took off running toward an open field in the park.

Damn she was cute. Excited over a bunch of raggedy-looking white and yellow flowers. I helped her pluck daisies until she had a decent sized bunch.

As she stood there smiling at the flowers a large yellow and blue butterfly fluttered between us and landed on her hand.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. “Look!”

“I see him.” As carefully as possible, I slipped my cell phone out of my pocket to grab a picture. “Don’t move.”