Breathless (130 page)

“So why do you use it?”

“Because it’s my favorite clay to work with.” She turned on the wheel, which started spinning at a fast speed. Then she moved her hands together—one over the other, forming an X shape—and brought her hands down onto the clay.

“Why is that?” I was intrigued by this whole new world I wasn’t familiar with.

“Well, I love the delicate pieces that porcelain creates, and well...” She paused, and I thought I saw her cheeks flush the stunning peach glow that always made me feel odd inside.

“What is it?” I asked, wondering why she was blushing.

“I love how it feels in my hands when I’m on the wheel. It’s buttery smooth and cool to the touch. It feels almost seductive.” There was a pure expression of happiness on her face as her hands gracefully placed pressure on the clay that was now a cone shape as it spun on high speed on the wheel.

“Okay.” I wasn’t sure I understood half the words she had said, but I wasn’t about to admit it. I didn’t know why, but I was really enjoying this moment with her, watching her work on something she was so passionate about and listening to her talk about it.

“Let me show you first. As a beginner, watching is just as important—you learn a lot from watching. I’m going to make a simple cup, and then I’ll help you with yours.”

“Good idea,” I agreed quickly.

So for the next fifteen minutes, I watched her hands move effortlessly with the wet clay spinning on the wheel as it transformed into an elegant cup before my eyes. She talked me through everything she was doing, explaining what she was doing and why she was doing it. I watched her in awe as she moved. When she finally stopped the wheel when her cup was finished, I watched as she pulled out a wire tool and rang it through the bottom of the cup a few times before she effortlessly transferred the cup onto a small, flat piece of wood.

“So we’ll need to let this clay dry a little before we can trim the rough edges and make designs on it,” she explained as she placed the wood holding the cup onto a table near the open window where a gentle breeze was drifting in.

Then she turned back to me and gave me a wicked smile.

“What?” My eyes narrowed suspiciously at her.

“Now it’s your turn.” There was a gleam in her eyes, like she was in on a joke that I wasn’t aware of.

I chuckled. “How hard can it be?”

I saw a smirk on her face that caused the cute little dimple above the left corner of her lips to appear. “Well it comes more naturally to some than others,” she replied vaguely.

“Well, I will tell you that I was quite a master at Play-Doh at the tender age of eight.”

She laughed, and it was one of those warm laughs that caused something to stir inside me—something I wasn’t familiar with.

“Okay, wise ass. Let’s see what you can do,” she challenged as she handed me the remaining orange-size ball of clay.

I took the clay confidently from her and threw it on the wheel like I had seen her do half an hour earlier. But unlike what I had seen with her clay, mine did not land in the center of the wheel. Instead, my aim must have been off, because the clay landed in the yellow tray that was underneath the wheel.

I heard Alexis stifle a giggle as she turned her face away from me.

“I meant to do that.”

“Right.” I could clearly see the amused expression on her face.

“I just wanted to hear that beautiful laugh of yours.” I winked at her as she rolled her eyes.

“Don’t use me as an excuse for your failures,” she teased.

“Ouch.” I feigned a hurt expression as I carefully threw the clay on the center of the wheel.

Ignoring my comment, she moved to my side. “Okay, you should grab some of the water from the bucket to wet the clay. Now you want to start spinning the wheel at a decent speed. Not too fast though or you’ll lose control of the wheel.”

I obeyed by grabbing some water with my hands and wetting the surface of the clay. Then I flipped the switch to the potter’s wheel and waited for the wheel to start spinning.

Nothing.

Why isn’t it moving?

I sneaked a quick glance at Alexis and she had another smirk on her face.

Damnit. What am I not doing right?

“I think you’re looking for the foot pedal.”

“I knew that.” I saw the foot pedal by my right foot and stepped on it.

When the wheel started to move, I placed my wet hands over the clay and instantly knew why Alexis liked to use porcelain. It felt amazing in my hands—wet, cool, and silky soft. I looked up at her as she smiled down at me and wondered if she would be this wet and silky soft to the touch. I was instantly turned on as my thoughts drifted to her naked body and the warm wetness between her thighs.

Just then, Alexis’s laughter broke through my sexual daydream of her. When I came back to reality, I realized what she was laughing at. Somehow I must have spun the wheel too fast without realizing it and most of the clay was no longer on my wheel. Instead, it was spattered all over my apron and face.

“I would have loved to see you at work during your Play-Doh days,” she said before breaking into a fit of laughter.

“Okay, so maybe this is a lot harder than you made it look.” I looked up at her and a smirk spread across my face. “But I blame it on you.” And before she could stop me, I grabbed her hand with my wet clay-covered hand and pulled her down toward me.

She shrieked in surprise as she landed on my lap. “You just got clay all over me,” she complained. But from the tone of her voice, I knew she didn’t care.

“Well, I was so distracted with you that I ended up getting clay all over me.” My hand moved behind her neck. “So now we’re even.” I pulled her face closer toward me and found myself mesmerized by her warm hazel eyes. I leaned down and kissed her—soft at first as I teased her lips gently with mine, but deeper with every passing second as my mouth moved with growing urgency and an insatiable hunger built inside of me. I heard her gasp for air as we finally pulled away from each other. I ran my hands down her back and under her shirt. My blood quickened as I felt her silky-soft skin against my calloused hands, and I knew what—and who—I wanted to be doing at that moment.

I heard her sharp intake of breath as my hands reached for her bra hook, and I knew that I had it in the bag—she was ripe for the picking.

But to my surprise, when I began to unhook her bra, she grabbed my arms and shook her head.

“What’s wrong?” I was completely thrown off by what had just happened.

“I’m sorry. I’m just not ready,” she whispered. I heard the unevenness in her breathing and I knew she wanted me.
But why this then?

“But I thought you wanted this?”

“Maybe eventually if things go well,” she began as she looked up at me hopefully. “But I just don’t sleep with guys on the first date.”

Her words shocked me, and for a brief second, she left me speechless. Then I saw the clock hanging on the wall and an idea came to me.

“But it’s after midnight, so it’s technically the next day after our date.” I knew how convoluted my suggestion was. “Besides, we had our sushi thing several weeks ago. That was kind of a date, wasn’t it?” I asked hopefully.

She laughed. “Nice try.”

Ouch. This has never happened before
.

Then, to my surprise, Alexis broke out into a fit of giggles.

“What?”

“I think we should get cleaned up. You have clay all over your face and hair and it’s starting to dry up.”

“Are you going to help clean me off?” I gave her a seductive smile, hoping to put things back on track.

“Yes, I’ll help. But don’t get any funny ideas.”

“So a shower together to help each other clean the clay off is out of the question?” I asked innocently.

She rolled her eyes. “Come on. There’s a sink in the next room.” She got up, ignoring my question. Resigned to the fact that a wet clay party was probably not in the cards for us tonight, I got up and followed her to the sink.

Fifteen minutes later, we had gotten most of the clay off of us.

“Okay, so I have to admit something,” I began.

She looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “What is it?”

“I was never a master at Play-Doh.” I kept a straight face as I watched her react out of the corner of my eye.

Then we both burst into laughter, and I realized how much I enjoyed making her laugh.

For the next half an hour, I helped her clean up our workstations while she told me about the class she taught on Saturdays.

“So should we take off?” I asked when we had put everything away.

She yawned and nodded in agreement. I pulled her into my arms and kissed her gently on the forehead.

“I had a really fun night, Alexis.”

“Me too,” she said softly.

“You know, you have no idea how amazing you are, do you?”

Our eyes met as she beamed. “You’re right. I have no idea. So you should keep telling me that so I’ll remember.”

I laughed, and this time, I rolled my eyes.

***

“I’ve never been on a date this long,” she said as she yawned again when we walked through the front lobby door of our building.

“Same here,” I admitted.
She doesn’t have to know that I can’t remember ever going on a date in my adult life.

“I had a great time. Swan’s Oyster Depot was fun and different. I never thought I’d enjoy raw oysters before tonight.” She smiled up at me, and the warmth of her smile emanated through me.

“I never thought I could have so much fun with someone.”
When sex isn’t involved
, I finished in my head.

We walked up the stairs in silence, and the memory of our first encounter on these stairs flashed through my mind. I smiled to myself at how much I’d been drawn to her even then.

When we got to her front door, she leaned up against me and kissed me on the cheek. “Goodnight,” she whispered to me. The smile that spread across her face seemed to cause a physical reaction I was not used to, and it had nothing to do with what was in my pants. My breath quickened and my heart drummed violently against my chest. I knew then that I didn’t want to leave her, that I didn’t want the night to end like this.

“I’d like to stay over tonight,” I said softly.

She looked at me and thought about it for a second. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Like I said, I don’t sleep with a guy on the first date.”

“So we won’t have sex tonight,” I heard myself blurt out. I just wanted to spend more time with her, and at this point, I was willing to take whatever she was willing to give me.

“Okay, so you just want to sleep on my bed?” She looked at me doubtfully.

I laughed. “Well, I’d like much more than that, but I’ll settle for some sleep.” I never thought I was one of those guys that would agree to stay over at a girl’s place when sex was not on the table. But here I was, doing just that. I sensed the warning bells go off inside me, telling me to leave before it was too late.

But I ignored them. Because the second she looked into my eyes, she pulled me in and I knew I wanted more from her.

As I followed her inside her apartment, a waft of her sweet, inviting scent hit me and I loved that her entire apartment smelled just like her.

“Are you sure you’re okay with just sleeping?” she asked. I could sense the doubt in her voice.

I pulled her toward me and wrapped my arms around her. She looked up at me, her hazel eyes gentle and warm. “I’m going to try,” I whispered.

She leaned up to kiss me gently on the lips. “Okay, I’m going to get cleaned up for bed. Is there anything you need?”

“Nope. I think I’ll be fine.”

I watched her grab some clothes from her dresser before walking into the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later, she came back out with her makeup removed and a gray t-shirt and pink jersey shorts on.

Damn, she’s stunning
.

My eyes ravaged her as she walked over to me and wrapped her arms around my chest. “Ready for bed?” she asked as she stifled a yawn.

“I’ve been ready,” I whispered and kissed her gently on the nose. I felt an odd, innocent excitement run through me as we walked toward her bed.
Is this how virgins feel right before they give it up?

“What are you doing?” she asked as she eyed me taking off my shirt. I saw her inhale sharply as her eyes lingered on my bare-naked chest. I smirked at the effect I had on her.

“What do you mean?” I asked innocently.

“I thought you’re okay with us not having sex tonight and just sleeping.”

“I am, and I’m getting ready for bed.”

She looked at me, and I saw the understanding flash in her eyes.

“Oh.” She paused for a second. “What do you wear to bed?”

“Well, I was about to show you,” I smirked as my hands went for the front button on my jeans.

“Wait!” she yelled as she raised her hands up, signaling for me to stop.

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you really sleep in the nude?”

I looked at her and gave her a does-that-really-surprise-you look. “I hate being constricted in clothes when I’m sleeping.”

“Do you mind leaving at least your boxers on or something?”

I smiled at the fact that she wasn’t going to insist that I put my shirt back on.
She likes what she sees
, I thought to myself proudly. “What? You don’t want to see it? That would be a first.”

She snorted. “I’ll bet. And no, that’s not it.”

Score! So she does want to see it.

“Then what?” I asked.

“It’s our first date, and I’ve told you that I’m just not that kind of girl to sleep with a guy on a first date.”

“But we’re not going to have sex. We’re just going to sleep.”

She shot me a doubtful look. “Right. Well, I’d like to sleep without the fear of a guy’s penis making an appearance. Would that be okay?”

“Ouch.”
Damn, this girl is feisty.
“Okay, fine. I’ll leave on my briefs if you insist. You’re the boss.” I winked at her.

As we sank into bed together, I pulled her closer toward me as she faced me and she wrapped her arm around my naked chest. I felt her soft fingers move up and down my back, which caused waves of pleasure to ripple down toward my growing erection. I kissed and she eagerly took my tongue into her mouth as she kissed me back. As our kiss deepened, I felt my pelvis involuntarily thrust toward her. I moved my hand under her t-shirt and felt her hot skin under my palm.
She’s not wearing a bra
, I realized as my hand moved up her soft back. I moved my hand toward her breast, wanting to feel them in my hand. But without warning, she slowed down and pulled out of our kiss. Her hand moved up to stop my hand that was inches away from her breast.