Exposed (Exposed 1)

"Yes." I stare at him, trying to pull some understanding from inside of him. "I'm not very experienced."

"You don't sleep with men you just meet, do you?" His breath traces a path across my cheek. I don't pull back this time. I won't. I can't. I don't want to.

I shake my head slightly. "I don't."

"Do you kiss men you just met?" His lips taunt me. They're now hovering so close to mine.

I don't respond. I can't find my voice. All I want is to feel. I lean in as his hand cradles my cheek and his finger caresses my skin. I want his kiss. I want to know what it's like to feel those soft, beautiful lips claim mine. I stare at his eyes as they gently close, the long lashes fluttering shut. I run my tongue along my lips just as his brush against mine. I'm lost in that moment. My hand grabs the back of his head, pulling his mouth into mine.

Chapter 10

His kiss is slow and sensual. He runs his tongue along my bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth. I open my mouth to take him in. I can taste his breath and feel his desire. He pulls me closer. His hand reaches behind me, pushing my back into him. I reach for his face with both my hands, cradling him. The soft stubble of the evening scrapes against my palms. As his tongue dances with mine I briefly flash to what it would feel like to have that stubble brush against my thigh and to feel this tongue at my core. If his kiss is any indication of his skill, I'd be lost in the depths of a pleasure I can't even imagine. This is what a prelude to ecstasy must feel like.

"Come home with me." He breathes the words into my mouth.

I want to. I want to so much. I pull back from the kiss. "I can't."

"We can just kiss." He smiles as he traces the outline of my top lip with his index finger. "I could kiss these beautiful lips all night."

I shiver at his touch. This is what my dreams have been made of since I knew what intimacy was. I've longed for a man just like this to desire me. I've wanted to be wanted. I've wanted a man to ache for my touch.

"I can't," I repeat. "I need to go home."

He scans my face. I know he's looking for some hint as to why I'm pulling back. I can't tell him. I don't want him to know about the scar.

"What is it?" he asks as he pulls me closer again. "Don't you want me?"

I almost laugh at the suggestion. Don't I want him? Does the man own a mirror? How could I not want him? How could any woman breathing not want this man inside of her?

"I told you." I pull back slightly. I can't think straight when I can feel his warm, delicious breath dancing over my skin. "I don't sleep with men I don't know."

"You know me now," he breathes. "I won't do anything you don't want me to do."

He's so tempting. I've never once thrown caution to the wind and followed my desires. What would happen if I did go home with him? What would he think of the scar?

"Why do you want me?" I ask, the words tumbling out quickly. "Why me? I'm not like Petra."

His eyes search my face. The silence in the car is deafening save for the rain bouncing off the roof. "That's why," he says in a muted tone. "You're not like Petra. You're not like anyone."

I want to tell him to take me home with him. I want the world to melt away so I can experience a man like this at least once in my life. I want the scar to disappear. I want my inhibitions to melt away. I want to be like Alexa. I just want him. All of him. Now.

I hang my head low staring at the black pants I'm wearing. "I'd like to go home."

I watch him from the corner of my eye. He moves with slow hesitation. I hear the car's engine roar to a start. "Buckle up, Sadie." He reaches over me to grab the seat belt and pull it into place.

I clench my fists together on my lap. Damn my heart. Damn my life. I may have just fucked up the best thing that's ever happened in my dull, boring, and predictable existence.

***

"He walked me to the door, kissed me on the nose and said goodnight." I cringe as I recount the events of last night to Alexa.

She takes a lazy drink of coffee from a small paper cup she just filled. "You're saying that he wanted to take you home so he could ravage your body all night and you actually said no?"

I nod. I can almost see the wheels turning in her brain. She's searching the air around us for just the right thing to say. It's not going to be pretty. In fact, it's going to sting. I brace myself for the onslaught.

"I get it," she blurts out before she turns to pour the remaining coffee from her cup down the drain in the kitchen. "I need to remake the pot this came from, it's disgusting."

"That's it?" I ask tightly. "You're not going to give me a lecture on why I should have slept with him?"