A Kiss Like This (31 page)

As I babble on, Abby’s lips part on a sigh when I run my large hands aimlessly up and down her bare thighs, stroking them gently.

“It didn’t even occur to me after that. Well, okay, maybe it did a few times. Not even when you were in my
room
; because you were
in
my
room
. Clearly I did not handle that well.” I clear my throat. “When you’re around, I become… God, I don’t know. Not that the ring wasn’t important—that isn’t it at all. The truth is you’re literally all I can think about. I forget everything else—I fucking
adore
you. I want to make this work.”

“Abby?” Pausing, I let out a deep breath, wishing she’d say something. “Abby? Is this making any sense, or am I fucking this up, too?”

~ Abby ~

He says my name in a tortured whisper, and I watch, spellbound, as his big, strong hands caress my legs.

I’m so stunned I don’t even know what to say. Everything I know about boys does
not
add up to this moment.

“Abby? Is this making any sense or am I fucking this up, too?”

Bravely, I raise my eyes and look into his face—his serious, broody,
sweet
face—peering up at me from his spot on the carpet, from under the brim of his ball cap. I take in his five o’clock shadow and the downturned curve of his full lips.

It’s just barely a pout.

I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything.

I show him.

Reaching forward, I remove his baseball hat and throw it into the dark pit of my bedroom. It lands with a soft thud on the carpet as I lift my arms and run all ten fingers through his thick, shaggy black hair.

He shutters, closing his chocolate-brown eyes and tilting his cheek toward my palm, nuzzling with an audible groan. “Abby, don’t be mad at me anymore,” he whispers again. “It was an accident.”

I know his intention isn’t to be funny, but a giggle escapes my lips as I finger the loose locks of his silky hair when he drops his head into my lap. “Oh, Caleb,” I whisper back. “What am I supposed to do with you?”

“Whatever you do, just don’t stop touching me,” he moans. “God, I missed you.”

I’d be lying if I said those four words weren’t the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me. Sad, but true. “But we’ve only known each other for… what. Three or four weeks?”

He stops caressing my legs and lifts his head, those dark eyes boring deep down into my soul. “Does a timeline really have anything to do with how you feel about me?”

“N-no,” I stutter, then take a steadying breath. “
No
. You’re right, of course it doesn’t. I don’t know why I even said that.”

His fingers trace circles on my thighs, and I fight back a shiver.

“Because you’re scared.”

“Yes.”

His mouth hitches at the corner and his hooded eyes sparkle. “Not as scared as I am.” He lowers his head and plants kisses on both my knees, one at a time. “I almost threw up in the bushes outside.”

“What!” I laugh quietly. “You did not.”

“I said
almost
. And yeah, I was so nervous I almost hurled my guts out.”

“Poor baby.” I take his head in my hands and pull him forward, between my parted legs, resting my lips on his forehead. His arms slide around my waist and his hands immediately begin stroking my back, painstakingly gentle.

“Abby?”

“Yes?”

“I have a confession to make: I accidentally climbed into Jenna’s room first.” His muffled laughter quivers against my chest, doing funny things to my girl parts.

I shove him away in shock. “What?” I practically shout. “Are you serious? How—what did she do?”

“Well,” he responds slowly, a huge grin spreading across his face. “You know how Jenna is. Of
course
she threated to shoot me. But that was before she knew it was me.”

“Oh my God, that girl is crazy! You could have been
shot
with an actual Taser gun!”

He makes a casual
pfft
sound, like getting shot with a stun gun is no big deal. “Yeah, but it would have totally been worth it.”

My hand flies to my chest, covering my heart as it flutters. “You would… you would get
Tasered
for me?” I take back what I said before
. This
is by far the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.

He shrugs. “Course I would.”

“Awww! Caleb, that is so… so awkwardly sweet.”

He shrugs again like it’s no big deal, like he contemplates a good Tasering on a daily basis and finds the process tediously boring.

God, he’s adorable.

I lovingly stroke the side of his face, and he leans in again, nuzzling the valley between my breasts with his nose.

“I noticed you’re wearing my shirt.” His muffled voice is barely audible, but I detect a pleased lilt to it.

I smile into his hair, against the top of his head. “It’s
my
shirt now, remember?”

He leans back on his taut haunches, calloused fingers stroking my shoulders, down my arms, fiddling with the hem of our shirt and watching my face the entire time. I lean back, bracing myself up with my arms, and look down as his big hands run slowly along the cotton trim then disappear underneath.

My breath hitches when those same hands linger over my belly button, drawing lazy loops around it. “I love your belly button,” he murmurs. “It’s so damn sexy.”

He leans in and licks it, his tongue trailing its way up my stomach. Deftly, my tee shirt gets pushed up, and Caleb is sliding his hands up my abs, over my breasts, and pulling the shirt off in one swift motion.

“Caleb.”

“Mmmm?”

“
I just wanted to say that
…
oh, that feels good
…
I just wanted to say that
… mnnnuuh…
c-climbing… uhh… maybe you should s-stop doing that so I can s-say what I need to say.” I get the words out as he’s yanking his own shirt over his head, and my hands snake up his bare chest.

What was it I wanted to say?

“What did you want to say, baby? I’m listening.”

Oh, Jesus. Who can think straight with these capable fingers stroking so perilously close to a person’s, um, lace-covered crotch.

I struggle to string my sentence together.

“Climbing out that…” I gasp “…window at the Kappa house was the… single best decision I’ve ever made.” My head tips back and his lips find the beating pulse on my neck. “B-besides coming to this university, with that house, and that window.” I say it quietly, in a slurred, drunken whisper before I lose my courage.

I feel him smile against my neck, and he nips my shoulder with his teeth as his hands caress the soft skin of my naked breasts. “I’m one lucky bastard.”

I giggle. “I sure am glad it wasn’t Cubby standing outside the day I climbed out that window.”

Caleb pulls his mouth off my neck. “That’s not even funny.” He pouts and nudges me onto my back.

“Oh!” I gasp as he climbs on top of the bed, on top of my pristine, virginal white duvet.

He leans down, rubbing his stubble along my jawline. “Did you miss me, Abby?”

“Yes. So much.”

“What an awkward pair we make.”

“Would you stop talking and kiss me?”

“Whoa, someone’s gotten bossy in the six days I’ve been gone.”

I groan in frustration and roll my eyes. “Stop teasing.”

“You want a kiss?” He plants a chaste kiss on my cheek, a wet smacking sound resonating in the room. “Like that?”

No, not like that
. My brows furrow, but I’m not yet forward enough to make sexual demands. I don’t know if I’ll ever be.

“Or like this.” Another kiss, this one on my temple. “Or like… this.” His firm, beautiful lips kiss one corner of my mouth, then the other.

“That feels… kind of okay,” I joke, getting into the spirit.

“
Kind of okay
, she says.” Caleb’s mouth hovers a whisper above mine. “Kind of—”

“Would you. Stop. Talking already? Kiss me like you mean it.” Even in the dark, I can see his eyes blazing with arousal as he stares down at me, shaggy, unkempt hair falling in his eyes. “Kiss me like you haven’t kissed me in six days. Kiss me like… like
this
.”

I pull his head down and our mouths reconnect, a reunion one full week in the making, the delicious taste of him on my tongue assaulting my senses in the best possible way.

Pressing our lips together, we make out, unhurriedly. Recklessly. Moaning. Sighing. Wet. Tongues, lips, and teeth.

It’s perfect.

“Shit, that’s sexy. If I thought—“

“Shhhh!”

I pull him down again, my palms running lightly over his bent shoulders, memorizing every smooth contour of this boy’s sinewy muscles—this shy boy who kisses me so sweetly that my heart could actually burst from the joy of it all. This shy and cautious boy who makes me feel beautiful. Wanted.

Confident.

Like I steal his breath away.

The way he steals away mine
.

Acknowledgements

It began with a book review…

I can remember what I felt that day I hit the “publish” button on my first book—the button that would make it LIVE! online for all the word to read. With a jumble of nerves and a wave of uncertaintly, I hit it anyways.

A few months went by. Out of the blue, I received a message from a woman who wanted to review it; a mother, blogger, and author. By chance, she happened upon my book and—holy crap—actually liked it! Reviewed it. “Pimped” me out (her words, not mine). See, I was doing the writing/publishing thing on my own, navigating through a publishing world I knew absolutley
nothing
about, and still wasn’t sure I was even
enjoying
it.

So imagine my genuine surprised that someone out there—someone who knew their shit—actually cared enough to reach out to me. Saw potential and wanted me to be better. What’s more; I wanted to be better.

So. Me being me, I found her online and sent her a note:

“Will you be my friend?”

She said yes, and a friendship was born.

A friendship with a woman I haven’t even
met
in person.

So, Chelle, thank you.

And thank you for introducing me to other brilliant, funny, foul mouthed woman whom I respect, admire, and have come to trust; without the Book Swappers, I probably still wouldn’t know what the *bleep* I was doing. They give me insight, laughter and advice on a daily basis. Although, also thanks to Chelle, they think I like porn. But… whatever. I soooo
don’t
.

Thank you Murphy. Reading your comments in my manuscripts is like reading short stories themselves. You’re an incredible artist, wordsmith, and editor. A true industry professional. I hope that someday, I can return the favor and teach
you
a bit of knowledge that helps you in some, small way, as you’ve certainly helped me. Wait. Are you editing this shit right now? Youu are, arew’t you.?

Chelle and Murphy. Every day you help me grow and become a better writer. Mostly by saying things like “No. NO! Just, no.”

Of course, a big thank you to the husband, who is amazing, supportive, and proud. He supplies me with all the Starbucks I need to stay awake during the day so I can write, and doesn’t comment on the fact that I stay up all night reading. My beautiful girls, who are incredible, funny, and beautiful. Talented and smart. Like moi.

Abby. My muse. Thank you for reading and reading and for the feedback. Somewhere out there is a guy who will make you blush, but for all the right reasons—and for once, you will stare at him for more than 3 seconds before looking away. You’re brilliant and clever, and I’m so glad to know you and call you my friend.

This book is for you.