Rushed (Adventures in Love 1) - Page 44
“I want to be here.” I lift my good hand and rest it against his jaw.
“Then let’s just be, and we’ll figure the rest out when it’s time.”
“Okay.” I nod, closing my eyes as his lips press to mine; then his tongue skims my bottom lip, and I open for him. As one of his hands slides into my hair and the other curves around my waist just under my breast, I latch onto his shirt, ignoring the pain in my hand as I make a fist.
“Tanner,” I breathe when he drags his mouth from mine so he can skate his lips down my throat. My knees between his press together and heat pools in my lower belly, making me dizzy with desire.
“Shit.” He pulls back suddenly, and my eyes flutter open as he removes my hand from his tee so he can inspect it. “Damn, sorry, sunshine. Let me get some gauze.” He gets up, and I notice my hand is bleeding, not a lot, but I definitely opened part of the wound. When he comes back over, he takes my hand and wipes it down before wrapping it with clean gauze. “How does it feel?”
“It’s okay, honestly. I didn’t even notice,” I say, and he gives me a look that causes the space between my legs to tingle.
Bringing my hand to his mouth, he kisses it. “I’m going to have to be careful with you.”
“I’m not that breakable.”
“I know.” He pulls me up to stand. “Do you want a pill?”
“No.” I shake my head, not wanting to fall asleep again.
“All right, how about we watch a movie?”
“Sure.” I force myself not to pout. Gah, I really want to, because all I want is for him not to be careful and take me to bed.
“Come on.” He leads me to a door just off the kitchen, and when he opens it, we step out onto a covered porch that’s fully screened in. Fairy lights line the perimeter, with a U-shaped couch in the middle. When he lets my hand go, I watch him pull a screen down from the ceiling, then open a box and pull out a remote. “What are you in the mood for?”
“Anything, I’m not picky.” I watch him press some buttons on the remote, and warm air starts to blow down on us; then the large screen lights up.
“Romance, comedy, or action?”
“Do you want my real answer?” I ask while I take a seat.
“Romance it is.” He smiles, and a list of romance movies fills the screen.
“You don’t have to suffer because of me. I’ll be happy with anything.” I curl into his side when he sits next to me.
“Choose, sunshine.” He passes me the remote, and I study it, surprised that he’s just handed it over. The guys I’ve known have treated the remote like some kind of weapon of mass destruction, not to be trusted in the hands of a woman. “Cybil.”
“Sorry, I’m just trying to figure out if I’m worthy of this kind of power,” I say, and he laughs, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
Resting my head on his chest, I scroll through until I find something I haven’t seen before and then press play. As the movie begins and the couple on screen struggles to get to know each other, I relax into Tanner and start to wonder if it’s abnormal to feel this level of comfort with someone you just met. I mean, I know we spent a week together, but we still haven’t known each other very long. And besides the underlying current of sexual tension that seems to surround us all the time, things between us are easy.
“What are you thinking about so hard?” he asks, breaking into my thoughts, and I stop twirling my hair.
“Nothing.”
“Liar.” He takes my hand when I sit up and then kisses my fingers. “Is your hand okay?”
“Yeah.” I chew the inside of my cheek, then blurt out, “Is it always like this?”
“Like what?”
“Easy.” I motion between us. “I mean, I don’t know; it feels like things are really easy with you.”
“Should they not be?”
“I don’t know,” I repeat. “It’s not like I have a lot of experience with this kind of thing.”
“Do you want me to give you the cold shoulder and then start chasing you because I finally realize how special you are?” he asks with a smile, basically relaying what’s happened so far in the movie we’re watching.
“No.” I roll my eyes.
“Maybe we should stop watching this movie before you take off back to Oregon because we have some stupid misunderstanding, only for you to have to beg for my forgiveness.”
“How do you know that you wouldn’t be the one begging for my forgiveness?”
“Because I would never do something to fuck this up,” he states plainly, and my heart gives a funny thump.
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