B00AAOCX2E EBOK (27 page)

“It’s a start.”

Our eyes remained on each other for a few compatible moments – mine conveying that I wouldn’t press him to talk; his with grim appreciation. We looked at the television at the same time. When Ian was in the shower, I’d replaced “Dirty Dancing” with the more guy-friendly “Office Space,” figuring it would provide a comedic distraction of some sort. It seemed to do the trick, too. Ian made several breathy sounds during the next few minutes that I thought might be laughs.

I turned the volume up a few notches, and leaned back into the cushion. A minute later, I felt the couch shift below me and I looked over to see Ian curling up on his side. Pandora mewed in complaint and hopped onto the floor. Keeping his eyes glued to the television, Ian placed his head in my lap and loosely wrapped the fingers of one hand around my right ankle.

My mouth parted. Usually, once Ian had a chance to collect himself and gain control over his emotions, he pulled away, both emotionally and physically. I’d always figured he viewed the act of receiving comfort a weakness of some kind, and it hurt his pride to appear weak.

I lifted my hand and threaded my fingers through the black strands of his wet hair. His eyes closed and a soft rumble of pleasure vibrated in his chest.

The purr brought me more pleasure than it should have, given the circumstances. I kept myself braced for his retreat. I kept expecting him to realize he’d let his walls slip and pull away.

That moment never came.

I continued to stroke his head; even when my fingers began to ache, my skin began to prune, and the moisture from his hair sank through the flannel of my pajama bottoms. I didn’t complain and I didn’t stop. Anything that soothed him at a time like this was worth the mild discomfort.

I was in the twilight of sleep, that elusive state between wakefulness and dreams, where awareness is fractured and reality seems nearly unattainable. Disjointed imagery flitted in and out of my mind; an eerie kaleidoscope of faces and places; a slideshow of memories from my past intermingled with scenes from my present.

One face in particular appeared with more frequency than the others. While I distinguished it as belonging to Ian, it didn’t really resemble him. It didn’t really resemble a face at all, for that matter, rather an impressionistic rendering imbued with shadows and colors, with hard edges veiling softer contours that coalesced to form what I recognized as the essence of Ian.

As I edged toward consciousness, scraps of memory began to surface, offering a vague justification for his recurring appearance in my mind.

And as my eyelids slid open to see the electric blue screen on the television, all the pieces of the puzzle snapped into place.

Ian came to me that night, seeking refuge and solace. He was still with me now. I faced away from him, but I could feel him pressed against the length of my back. The furnace-like heat of his body warmed me throughout, warding off the chill of the rest of the apartment.

We’d moved into that position after I’d finally had no other option than to tell him my legs had fallen asleep, some twenty minutes or so after he first rested his head in my lap. His breathing evened out roughly five minutes later. I’d drifted off not long after.

Closing my eyes again, I tilted my head to the left, the right, and then down, stretching out the cricked muscles in my neck. I moved back just slightly and peered over my shoulder to find Ian already awake. “Hey,” I murmured. An inhale through my nose turned into a yawn, and, from there, rolled throughout me in a full-body stretch. Going limp, I gave him a sleepy smile.

The smile faded from my eyes first, gone after one slow blink and three rapid ones. My mouth followed shortly thereafter. I lifted my head a fraction of an inch and the last tendrils of sleep fled my system. My lips parted and my heart fluttered wildly in my chest.

My gaze wavered to the ceiling above Ian’s head and then back again, but look on his face hadn’t changed.

His hooded, mossy eyes burned bright, contrasting eerily against the blue tint of the television screen. Shallow and quiet breaths came from his parted lips as he gazed down into my face.

He looked dazed. Hungry. And I didn’t need the feel of him pressing against my backside to tell me he was aroused – though it was definitely there.

My lips ignited under the tangibility of his stare. The blood quickened in my veins, racing about like a river of molten lava that flowed south and concentrated between my legs. My inner-muscles flexed involuntarily and my nipples tightened, causing me to gasp.

Drawn by the sound, Ian’s eyes snapped up to mine.

We stared at each other for a long time. Then he lifted a hand to sweep some hair from my face and whispered my name.

The sound made my chest tighten. It wrapped around me, sweeping me up into a riptide of emotions and yearning that knocked the air from my lungs and threatened to swallow me whole.

My eyes shifted from side to side over his face, before falling out of focus. I wanted time to address my misgivings, but I was having a hard time remembering what they were. And those I did remember were eclipsed by the way he was looking at me – like I was, indeed, his world. My eyes slid back into focus and I nodded.

“Yes,” I said. Such a simple word, yet so powerful.

Ian’s eyes widened, and I thought he might have stopped breathing. Then, he cupped my cheek and lowered his lips to mine.

It was a surprisingly gentle whisper of a kiss, a sweet contradiction to the smoldering heat in his eyes. Even so, it sent the pit of my stomach into a wild swirl and had me straining for more when he pulled away.

I peered up at him through creviced eyes. Why was he stopping? Was he having second thoughts already? Seeing his questioning look told me he wasn’t; he was making sure I had none. Touched, I smiled and nodded.

His mouth crashed into mine and I melted back against him. His tongue delved inside, testing and tasting, becoming more urgent and explorative. I was thrilled to find his kissing technique mirrored my own.
Perfect.

I rolled toward him and tangled my legs with his. Our mouths fused together again, our tongues tangling in a greedy give-and-take that made me breathless and well-near mindless.

His hands… his extremely gifted hands roved my body, stroking down my back, my hips, my thighs, caressing every one of my curves as if he wanted to commit the way I felt to memory. I took some liberties of my own, touching his chest, his back, his arms, even that small triangular area of his hip that I’d been unable to look away from the other day.

His hand came up and tangled into the hair at the base of my neck, while his other hand slid beneath my pajama top. His fingers stroked up and down my spine, causing me to shiver.

Frames still locked together, we rolled so that I lay on my back. We broke apart and his mouth nipped down my chin and up my jaw before sliding down to the curve of my neck. He captured my earlobe in his mouth and scraped at it with his teeth. I closed my eyes and writhed against him, throwing my arms back over my head and hugging the arm of the sofa.

He pulled back to look at me. Heavy gasps fell from his mouth as his eyes moved over my face. A small smile appeared on his face as he brought his mouth down to just above mine. I raised my head to meet him, but he held back, just out of reach. He turned his head the other direction and did it again, pulling back at just the last moment.

Tease.

“Ian,” I complained, thrusting my lower lip out in a pout.

His eyes glittered with amusement. He leaned down and caught my protruding lip between his teeth, nipping and tugging on it, driving me insane. I closed my eyes and tried to deepen the kiss, but he backed away again.

I groaned and huffed out a breath. “You’re such a butt.”

His chuckle made me chuckle as it occurred to me that, even in the heat of the moment, we were still being us.

I started to lift my arms, wanting to pull him closer, but he caught them, trapping my wrists and pushing them back down. He kissed me hard and fast, and then stared down into my face again. Something fierce and possessive appeared in his eyes, causing a thrust of excitement to shoot through me. My lips parted, and I sucked in several quick breaths in anticipation. A rumble sounded in his chest, and he dropped his mouth to my neck, sucking the skin into his mouth.

My hips thrust upwards and a long, keening wail of pleasure erupted from my lips. He increased the suction on my skin until it almost hurt, but the pain went right through me, zinging down my body and centering between my legs. My thighs tightened like a vise around his hips.

Lowering his eyes, he brought his hand down to the top button of my shirt. With quick and deft movements, he undid the rest of the buttons and pushed the fabric to either side, leaving me opened and exposed.

I bit my lip as he looked down. He’d seen a lot of naked female bodies in his day, most of them skinny and perfect, and mine was neither. Gravity made my heavy breasts hang at an unattractive angle and they were attached to a rounded stomach and love handles. I watched his face, waiting for a look of revulsion. But his hooded eyes seemed to be savoring the sight of me, melting away my insecurities, making me feel desirable. Beautiful.

The flat of his palm skated over one of my nipples. He lowered his head and took it into his mouth. Shuddering as his tongue swirled around, I clutched at his shoulders. He toyed with the waistband of my pajama bottoms, and I released my legs from his waist, holding my breath in anticipation of him touching me.

He moved his mouth to my other breast, and his fingers traveled a little lower into my pajamas. I sucked in a breath, feeling like I might lose my mind if he didn’t touch me soon. His hands lowered still…almost there…almost…

An outside sound drew my attention.

Alarmed, I stiffened and tightened my hands on his shoulders. “Wait.”

He looked up, confusion clear on his face. “What? Why?”

“Did you hear…?” There it was again. A faint ringing sound, like a bell…or a…set of keys! The grind of a key sliding into place sounded in the apartment.

“Shit, it’s Chelsea,” I hissed, pushing him off of me.

I jerked into an upright position and scrambled to close the buttons on my top.

Ian echoed my curse and added a few extra epithets of his own. He sat up on the couch and raked his hands through his hair. Looking around, he grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and pulled it over his lap.

I’d just barely managed to fasten the last button on my top when the door opened. I jumped into a standing position and spun around, breaking into a wide grin as Chelsea pushed the door open.

“Hi, Chelsea!” I said in my brightest voice, smoothing down my hair as an afterthought.

My eyes darted to Ian, whose mouth was curved on one side as he stared at my torso. I looked down to see the buttons on my top were totally screwed up. Sucking in a breath, I wrapped my arms around myself.

“Hey, Ivy… and Ian,” Chelsea said as she walked through the door, her nose a bright pink. She lifted her hand to her hair and brushed some snow from the crown of her head. “What are you guys up to?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly. “We were watching a movie and fell asleep. What about you?”

“Late night at the library.”

“Did you get lots of work done?”

“Everything I needed to.”

Ian made a strange noise and I looked down to see him watching me with pursed lips. I could practically hear him in my head:
Small talk at a time like this?

“Are you okay?” Chelsea asked me with a squint. “You look a little flushed.”

“I’m fine! Just hot. It’s hot in here, isn’t it?” I asked, turning my eyes on Ian, imploring him to agree.

“I’m certainly burning up.”

I bit down on the manic laugh rising in my throat.

Chelsea looked between us, a small smile playing on her lips. “Well, I’m off to bed,” she said through a yawn and a wide stretch. “Sleep tight.”

“You, too.” I watched her until she disappeared into her bedroom, then looked down at Ian and inclined my head in the direction of my bedroom.

Ian tossed the blanket aside. I started walking to my door, but he pulled me back.

“Wh—? Oh.” I leaned in to meet his kiss.

His hands slid over my hips. Mine went to his neck where I toyed with the hair at the base of his skull.

The intensity of our kiss quickly transformed into kisses shared with our whole bodies – lips, tongues, teeth and arms. Ian lifted me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He walked us back toward my room and my eyes opened when my shoulder blades touched the door.

“Mmm… think she… suspected anything?” I whispered between kisses.

“Does it matter?”

I shook my head and brought my mouth to the pulse point right below his ear. His pulse thundered under my lips and I flicked my tongue over the delicate skin before whispering, “No.”

“Good answer.”

I tilted my head back and tapped my head against the door. “We should….”

Ian reached behind me to turn the knob. Carrying me into the room, he kicked the door closed. I gasped into his mouth when he pushed me up against the door.

A strangled growl rolled over his tongue, the vibrations of which rumbled in his chest and through mine. He lowered me to my feet and his hands went to my waist, where he fumbled with the drawstrings of my pants.

My legs trembled in anticipation. I felt like my entire body was on fire, having slowed to idle after Chelsea’s appearance, and hummed back to full-throttle again as soon as she was gone.

I hissed as Ian released the knot on my pajama bottoms and hissed again as the material spilled down my hips with a soft swish. My skin was so electrified that even that slightest amount of contact had me going crazy.

I kicked the pajama pants aside and tugged at the waistband of his sweats, pushing them down his hips. He lifted me up again. Before I knew it, he was poised at my opening.

He suddenly blinked. “Wait,” he murmured.

“What?” I asked, startled. Was he going to tell me we needed to stop? That we shouldn’t do this? That we were making a huge mistake? “Protection,” he breathed, his face screwing up. “I didn’t…”