Hate (32 page)

I opened my mouth to his, and his tongue met mine, running the length of it with just the right pressure before swirling around the tip and retreating the same way it had come. My belly dipped, and my heart rate doubled in speed and cadence.

He did a circuit around the surface of my lips one more, keeping his tongue poised inside his perfect mouth before pulling away.

His thumb brushed my jaw tenderly, and it did it so effortlessly that I’d never even seen his hand move.

“I’ll be back to tomorrow. Probably in the morning.”

“In the morning?” I asked dumbly, my mind still cloudy from his kiss.

“Yeah, baby. Just because I’m dating you tomorrow-night, doesn’t mean I’m not seeing you tomorrow-day. I’ve missed a lot about you, and part of what I’ve missed is my friend.”

He turned and walked away, and I watched. I watched every step he took, the flex of every muscle as he did. I watched the way the light reflected off of his skin and hair, and I smelled the lingering scent of him he’d left behind.

And I could only think one thing.

“I missed you too,” I whispered to the empty space where he’d just been.

“DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT’S worth?” I sang, my earbuds blasting Belinda Carlisle’s Heaven Is A Place On Earth in my ears as I wiped the kitchen counter with a Clorox Wipe.

My feet bounced back and forth and my ass swung to the beat. Dancing was the only way to get through cleaning, the bane of my existence, and since Gram was settled out on the deck with a bag of chips and a jar of salsa—her main source of sustenance—I was free to move about at will.

Ratty shorts hugged my thighs and a thin camisole absorbed the sweat accumulating between my generous breasts. They bounced and swung as I moved, the thought of wearing a bra to do this job an unpleasant one.

Gram was an early riser and she needed help in the mornings, so now I was too. I didn’t mind too much since I got so much more done than I used to. And luckily, she wanted some time to herself just as much as I did.

So this had become part of our weekend routine.

Only this weekend was different. Because last night Blane Hunt had shown up and thrown my carefully crafted routine for a loop. Thus necessitating me getting up even earlier.

I rolled my neck, doing a spin to make my way over to the waiting garbage can. In went the wipe, a perfectly arced shot, the stance of a Pro Basketball player possessing my body.

I swung my hips, lifting my knees in my best runway walk and then throwing myself forward, hinged at the hips and stretched to grab my windex from under the sink.

I did a body roll back up, settling my weight into my hip and spinning, throwing the length of my hair over my shoulder in an arc a stripper would be proud of.

Shock seized me as I lifted my eyes from the floor, and an amused and seriously heat-filled pair of blue eyes looked me up and down and back again.

He had on a baby blue t-shirt, and the intensity with which it matched his eyes seemed like it should have been impossible. Just the front was tucked in, as if by accident, exposing a soft brown leather belt that matched his boots.

Blane’s lips moved, the motion drawing me to them but leaving me completely confused. I still had my earbuds in and couldn’t hear a word he was saying.

Yanking them out quickly, I felt the burn of my embarrassment working its way up my neck and northward until my entire face was engulfed.

“What?” I asked, unwilling to stay in the dark about his comment.

“I said,” he started, his eyes twinkling as he shoved his weight away from the wall holding it up. His ankles uncrossed, and he came directly toward me, his stride confident and quick. When his toes met mine, I looked up, way, way up, and his face tilted down toward mine. “Heaven is
definitely
a place on Earth.”

My face jerked back, my eyes widening in surprise. “After watching that, there’s absolutely no doubt in my mind.”

His eyes traveled down again, taking in my nearly exposed chest, my peaked, very turned on nipples practically waving to him. “Jee-zus,” he said in a tortured whisper. “God really, really loves me.”

The urge to cover my chest was almost overpowering, but I tamped it down and lifted a challenging eyebrow instead.

Using a finger under his chin, I tilted his head up enough to make his eyes meet mine again, and then shook it in front of his face. “God doesn’t love you that much, buddy.”

His perfect smile, outlined by well-groomed, perfectly shaped scruff, told me I was wrong.

Jesus. Commence swoon.

My body swayed, just barely and the edges of my focus blurred. I felt myself drifting, getting lost in his eyes, lost in our connection, but I fought it.

When I got myself under control, I questioned, “What are you doing here? And how did you get in?”

His already award-winning smile deepened exponentially. “I told you I’d be back this morning.” He took in my outfit again, and then tugged on the flesh of his bottom lip with his teeth.

“I didn’t think you’d be here at the crack of dawn,” I argued, forcing my eyes from the indention in his lip to his hypnotic eyes.

Reaching out and tugging a sweat dampened lock of my hair, he responded, “It’s hardly dawn. The sun’s been up for hours.”

His mouth moved toward mine, and I retreated a step back but rammed into the island. He moved forward with me, swiftly and without hesitation, and I was sure he would kiss me. But when he was just two inches away, just enough to let me look at him, he whispered, “And I couldn’t wait any longer. I missed you.”

Man. I was
so
screwed.

“Blane,” I breathed softly. I didn’t plan to speak, I just did.

His chest moved into mine, making it swell to two times its size thanks to the indrawn breath and the swell of my arousal. I could feel his chest through my shirt, the thin barrier just barely pretending to keep me unexposed.

I watched as his lips descended, just before the scent of him flooded my nostrils and made my eyes flutter closed.

Chiclets.
Their sweetness was obvious in both taste and smell.

I thought he’d drink deep, but he didn’t. His lips and tongue made contact at once, just barely whispering over the seam of mine. I desperately wanted him to lick his way inside, but before I could open my mouth to invite him, it was over.

His body stayed close and his hands settled aggressively onto my barely covered ass, his pinky fingers just skimming my bare flesh directly.

The sound of his hoarse voice wove its way effortlessly to my ears, “Finish up, baby. Trust me, I don’t mind watching you.”

I bit into my bottom lip, heat clawing its way out of my cheeks once again. “I don’t think I can do it, knowing you’re there.”

“Then just put your earbuds back in, and pretend I’m not.”

“Why don’t you go out on the deck and sit with Gram,” I offered. “I’ll be done cleaning soon, and then I’ll take a quick shower.”

His face came forward without warning, and his teeth tugged playfully at my plump bottom lip. When he pulled back, he agreed. “Okay.”

With one last squeeze of my ass he stepped away and headed for the door that led to the deck. It took me a while to come out of the alternate universe I was convinced I had to be living in, but when I glanced over my shoulder, he was gone.

I looked around, glanced over my shoulder, and when I finally convinced myself he was gone, only then did I put my earbuds back in and press play.

I was still majorly aroused, so when “Seduces Me” by Celine Dion hit my ears, I channeled it all into my movement. The tempo was slow, and the sex wasn’t obvious, but to me, if you listened and let yourself
feel
the music, it was one of the sexiest songs I’d ever heard.

Maybe other people didn’t dance around their houses like this, certainly not as a way to work off unused sexual energy, but I never claimed to be like other people.

My head dropped back as the melody began, a soft sway setting into my hips without prompting. I grabbed the windex off of the counter, spraying the glass window of the microwave and wiping it with my paper towel.

As the tempo elevated slightly, so did my arms, finding their way over my head and moving with the roll of my body. I could imagine Blane’s hands on my body, running from ribcage to hip, and it just made my movement even stronger.

I moved to the oven, wiping the window to it clean as well, once again bending sharply at the hips, an arch in my swaying back.

When I was done, I set the bottle and the paper towel on the counter and got lost in the song.

My hands worked my hair pulling up and around and back again. I spun, the palms of my hands sliding down the sides of my body and my eyes just resting shut.

As the last chords came to an end, I slowed to a stop, my heart beating rapidly in my chest and the sweat between my breasts renewed.

My eyes opened, and I half expected not to be alone again. But I was.

But I didn’t have to be for long.

I grabbed the dirty paper towel and tossed it, and then returned the bottle of windex to the cabinet.

Immediately, I headed for my room, anxious to shower away the pulsing ache between my legs.

MY ARMS HELD TIGHTLY TO Blane’s torso, and my bent legs forced my thighs closer to his body.

It was date time. And I was on the back of Blane’s motorcycle for the very first time in my life.

Destination unknown.

I’d made quick work of my shower, scrubbing my over-sensitized skin softly and rinsing with cooler than normal water.

Other than blow drying my hair, I didn’t do much, opting for a slouchy t-shirt and jeans rather than going all out. The thought had entered my mind for one brief moment before I’d raised my imaginary shotgun and blasted it right out of my head.

This was Blane.

Feeding him any kind of bullshit would do absolutely no good. He knew me, and when he didn’t, he could read the answers on my face.

I’d gone straight for the deck, and a delicious mingling of Blane’s and Gram’s laughter hit my ears as soon as I broke the seal on the door.

My heart felt like it floated in my chest, the buoyancy I got from hearing two people I loved enjoying something, loving something, beyond compare.

And it was almost half as good as the feeling I got when Blane heard me approach and looked up and smiled.

His eyes had still been hot, and all of the effort in the shower to lessen my own arousal had been wasted. Because with one look from him, I was having trouble regulating my breathing.

When I finally looked at something other than him, I realized he’d been holding court with one of my neighbors. In the yard he’d described the night before, a beautiful but slightly tired-looking young woman stood with a young little girl on her hip while a little boy played on the swing set. “This is Cynthia,” Blane had said, introducing me to her as if he’d known her all his life.

She had a sweet smile and kind eyes, and in that moment, when I looked into the blue eyes of the man in front of me, I saw the boy I’d met back in seventh grade. Warm and friendly and completely irresistible.

Cynthia was upbeat and completely understanding of the fact that I’d neglected to introduce myself in the years that we’d lived right next to one another.

She made excuses for me, saying life was just too busy sometimes, citing her own recent separation as an example of her own busyness (Blane proves his perception anyone?), but I knew that wasn’t it.

It was me.

Cold and closed off and unwilling to let new people in.

But Blane made me want to change that in a way that no one had since I first met him.

I promised to talk to her soon, and Blane left her swooning with one of his genuine bad boy smiles.

We’d spent the rest of the day inside, laughing along with Gram and rolling our eyes behind her back. She talked about her years of youth—and how crazy she’d been during them—and I’d made sandwiches using my leftovers from the night before for lunch.

As afternoon ticked into evening, Blane had looked at me expectantly, and before I knew it, Gram forced me out the door with him with a pledge to stay in her room watching Soap Operas on demand.