Not Looking for Love: Episode 6 (A New Adult Contemporary Romance Novel) (22 page)

The flight takes forever, and I'm so antsy the woman sitting next to me keeps casting me nasty looks. I pace the aisles as much as I can, but the stewardesses keep shooing me back into my seat.

I still have most of the day to get through, I realize as I'm waiting in line for a cab, the summer heat enveloping me like a glove. I might not even make it. I might just burst into billions of charged electrical particles half way through the day.

The sky over the city is that odd shade of dark green and purple, and I'm sure rain's not far in coming. Though for the moment it's just suffocatingly humid and hot.
 

I call Scott as soon as I'm in my hotel room, my heart pounding, and beads of sweat forming on my forehead from the change in temperature. Or maybe that's from the nerves too.

"So at ten?" I ask, and my heart stops when he just sighs, and doesn't say yes right away.

"Well?" I can't stand the suspense. Never could.

"Yes, Gail, at ten," he finally says, and I can hear the smile behind the choked sound of his voice.

"I guess I'll see you then," I say, smiling now too. And I do have a vague plan to just stay on the phone with him until then, but he doesn't share it.

"Bring an umbrella," he says. "It might rain."

"I don't have an umbrella," I mutter. I didn't pack one for my trip to Venice.
 

"Alright, I'll bring one then." I let him say goodbye after that, since I still have to get ready, maybe take a nap.

I do manage to sleep for about an hour, but the rest of the time I spend showering, doing my hair and makeup and trying on practically every outfit I have with me. I finally decide on a flowery dress and flats, since I'll be walking.

My heart is in my throat as I exit the cab right by the bridge at a quarter to ten. The wind's picking up, sending my dress flying around my legs, but the heat is still holding strong. My stomach is a knot of butterflies fluttering so fast it's bordering on cramps. But my whole body is so light I don't even feel my feet touching the ground. Ten more minutes and I'll see him. Ten more minutes and the past four months will become just an unpleasant memory. There's a nagging Gail going on somewhere in the back of my mind, asking, 'But what about after that?' But she's not very loud and therefore easy to ignore.

I reach the first set of arches where we decided to meet with six minutes to go. Apart from a few joggers and cyclists there's no other foot traffic to speak of. I can't be still, keep looking back towards the city, to the other side into Brooklyn, hoping he’ll be early.

When I turn to face the water, Scott's standing in front of me. I feel him more than see him. Heat erupts in my stomach, and I trip as I try to close the one step distance still left between us. He catches me, balances me with his arms around my waist. He's thinner than he was, which makes him seem taller. His hair is longer, would probably reach his chin, if it wasn't pulled back into a bun at the back of his head. I wrap my arms around his waist too, press so close it's hard to breathe. His eyes are opening into a perfect sun kissed ocean in front of me, more inviting than anything I've ever seen.

I can feel his gaze on me, taking in every inch of my face, sending sparks across my skin, fireworks erupting in my stomach. I’m a little ashamed at how long it took me to get ready tonight. I could've come here in my sweats, with my hair all oily, and I'd look just as beautiful to him, just as perfect.

"Aren't you going to kiss me?" I ask, my voice breathless and hoarse.

The edges of his lips curl up even more, sunlight intensifying in his eyes. "I don't know if I'd be able to stop at just a kiss. We are in public after all."

I shake my head and smile. "Doesn't bother me right now."

I don't wait for his reply, stand on my tiptoes, and pull his head down for a kiss. All else disappears as he hugs me closer, kisses me back, his tongue hard and insistent in my mouth. Nothing's changed. He still tastes like everything I have ever wanted, hot chocolate on a cold winter day, sweet lemonade in the heat of summer, ice cream, popcorn, fudge, eternity.

I don't know how much time passes while we kiss, and I don't care. Wild and hungry, soft and sweet, needfully, unyieldingly. I'm weightless in his arms, I no longer feel the ground beneath my feet.
 

Wind is gusting around us now, thunder echoing. Fat raindrops start landing on my bare arms. But I'm not ready to stop kissing him. I don't know when we moved, but he's leaning against the arch, and I'm melting into his chest, which is still every bit as hard and ripped as I remember. I’m still kissing him and I don't know how to stop.
 

One of his legs is between mine, and his hard cock is pressing into my stomach. I have no idea why we're not doing it yet. I'm barely aware of all the other people huddled around us for shelter, and it's only that vague awareness that keeps me from reaching for his cock, wrapping my leg around him and letting him take me right here and now.
 

His lips leave mine. "Maybe we should go somewhere else?" he whispers into my ear.

"Yes," I say, and he takes my hand, leads me away from the arch. It’s only drizzling now, but the peal of thunder that echoes in the distance promises more rain to come. I have to jog a little to keep up with him, but I won't let go of his hand. Never again. Yet a lot of the charge between us is gone now, and something, for some reason I don't understand, makes me want to cry. It must be coming from him. I haven't been this happy in months.

"I like your new car," I say as he unlocks it and opens the door for me. It's a slick black sports car with tinted windows. The interior smells like someone just smoked a pack of cigarettes in it.

"Did you start smoking?" I ask once he gets in too, and starts the engine.

"That's not me," he answers, pulling out so fast I slam back into the seat.
 

"A girlfriend then?" I ask, the words leaving my mouth before I think them.

He looks at me, his eyes so soft, so open, I've never been sorrier in my life. "No, Gail. I've hardly even looked at a girl since we broke up."

I gasp. He's the most honest person I know, and I regret every game I ever played with him.
 

I rest my hand on his thigh and squeeze, enjoying the firm tension of his muscles. "I haven't looked at another guy either, just so you know."

He smiles a little, but it's not an altogether happy expression. "Maybe you should have."

This is what’s causing all the sadness that's sitting in the back seats right now, sucking out all the warmth from my stomach, killing all the butterflies.

"Where are we going?" I ask, trying hard not to let the pain show in my voice.
 

But it seems we're there, because he pulls into a deserted parking lot, and parks in the shadow at the end of it.

And I want to start again right where we left off on the bridge, but the sadness behind me isn't allowing it.
 

He turns to me, and places his palm on my cheeks, his touch as soft as the look in his eyes. I could swim forever in the ocean stretching inside them and never get tired. But there's no horizon there, no shore, and I know that look.

"Scott, I made up my mind," I whisper, laying my hand over his. "I'm here, and I'm not leaving."

He lets go of my face, and then we just sit there, holding hands, the only two people in the world.

"If Mike goes after you, there's nothing I can do to stop him," he says after awhile. "His friends are too powerful."

A jolt of pure terror passes through me, but it's not enough to frighten me away. I've known this terror, lived it, and the fear of it is not worse than the real thing.

"I've thought about it," I say. "I can get protection. Like bodyguards. It's what my aunt suggested I do the first time."

"She did?" he asks, sounding a little put out.
 

"I told her no way at the time, since I thought Mike wasn't a problem anymore, and I had you," I add hastily.

"And your dad?"

"He can do the same, I guess," I say. "Honestly, maybe Mike is just making an empty threat."

I want to believe it, and everything on his face, in his eyes tells me he does too, but can't.
 

"You don't know him. Hell, I don't even know him anymore. He's crazy," he mutters. "I don't think it's empty threats."

"Scott, I want to be with you and you want to be with me," I say, firm like I'm giving a command. "So we will make it happen."

"I like your take charge attitude," he says and chuckles. But I already knew that from the white heat spilling from his eyes, entering me.

"And if push comes to shove, I do have a whole extended family of drug dealers and murderers to call on," I conclude.

"And you're willing to add a thief to that line up?" he asks and it takes me awhile to connect the dots.

"Because I've done some seriously criminal shit in the past few months, and I don't think I'll be able to stop doing it anytime soon," he clarifies for me, probably reading the confusion on my face correctly.

I can't exactly say his choice of career is easy to accept, no matter how hard I try.

"You can't walk away?" I ask. If it's in the past it's less of a problem. I could live in that denial.

"I doubt it," he says, looking down at our entwined hands, kind of letting go. But I squeeze his tighter.

"Look, we'll figure it out," I stammer. "Anything can be solved."

"Still not a big fan of things being as they are?" he asks.

"Never," I reply and smile. "It'll work out, now that we're facing it together."

He leans over and kisses my forehead, and all the warmth is back, like it never left. Fat raindrops are pounding against the car roof, intensifying my desire to just go somewhere far away together, somewhere we can be alone.

"But right now…" he says gazing into my eyes again.

"Now we go back to my hotel room," I finish the sentence, holding my breath because I'm that afraid he'll say no.

But he smiles and kisses me again, briefly though, because he's already got the engine started. He drives way to fast, and I'd be afraid, if my desire wasn't a coiled spring wound so tight it could rip me open at any moment.

Scott parks in a dark street a few blocks from my hotel. The rain is still pelting the roof, and I have a drowning feeling we're right back where we started. That he's going to tell me to go and not come back. Some of it must be showing on my face, because he smiles and reaches back, pulling an umbrella from the space between the seats.

"You should walk into the hotel alone," he says. "I'll join you soon. What’s your room number?"

"Is this some kind of ploy to get rid of me, Scott?" I ask, tears already welling in my eyes.

He leans over and kisses my lips, so tenderly, my tears start to flow.

"No ploy, Gail," he whispers. "Just being extra cautious. You can stop crying now."

"I'm in room 815," I answer, wiping my tears away with the back of my hand.

"OK, I'll be there in a few minutes," he says and smiles wider, his eyes bright despite how dark it is outside.
 

After another quick kiss, I rush out the car, nearly running towards the hotel. The umbrella isn't doing much to keep the rain off me, and the winds that are blowing now are almost cold enough to put out all the fires inside me. I'm shaking, and fear has more to do with it than the cold. Am I crazy for doing this? For courting danger like this? What if Mike is following me, will appear from the shadows at any moment, take me to another dark warehouse and finish the job?

I actually sigh in relief as I enter the hotel lobby, breathing hard from the run here. Adrenaline is coursing through me, melting with the warmth rising in my stomach again. If this is crazy, then that's what I am. Because I will never willingly part from Scott.
 

The room phone rings before I even have time to take off my wet shoes, and I tell the receptionist to let Scott up breathlessly. I barely have enough time to wipe off some of the dark streaks of my mascara running before there's a knock at the door. Then Scott's holding me so tight, kissing my lips, my chin, my cheeks, my neck, his hands caressing my sides, brushing over my breasts, my ass, getting tangled up in my wet hair.
 

I'm not lagging far behind either. I find the edge of his shirt, slide my hands across the dips and valleys of his stomach, turning his breaths to short jagged rasps. The ground suddenly disappears from beneath my feet as he lifts me, carries me to the bed. I wrap my legs around his hips, holding onto his neck, my lips never leaving his.
 

For all his strength and fire, he lays me down on the bed gently, his lips leaving mine. He gazes down at me, his eyes an open expanse of clear blue waters, not a ripple in sight. But the sun rising over the water is so bright, so scorching I actually have to blink. It's the only part of my body I can actually move. I'm paralyzed under his gaze. Perfect and untouched. Not a wet mess with tangled hair, and mascara running down her cheeks.

He gets up on the bed, traces the center line from my collar bone down to the V of my dress, and pure fire shoots from his fingers right to my core. He undoes the buttons of my dress, each one popping open making my breaths come quicker.
 

"How can you stand it?" I finally ask, as I'm lying in front of him in just my underwear, and he's still gazing at me, his fingers tracing a soft circle on my stomach.

"Not into slow tonight?" he asks, smiling down at me, a mischievous light shining in his eyes.

I sit up, push him back, and straddle him. "I've waited for this for so long," I say, adding, "Slow is for later."
 

I kiss him hard and deep, already fumbling with his belt.

I screech as he grabs me, rolls me over so he's on top, all softness gone from his eyes, replaced by the predatory hunger, wild cats stalking prey in the dead of night. Promising things to come. I'm so wet right now, so hot, I might come from that just gaze alone.