Ten Days of Perfect (6 page)

“God
. . .
November.” It seemed to be all he could manage when he lifted his mouth from mine.

Each time he spoke my name, I was recharged with a need I’d never felt before. It was unsettling, but only in the way drinking half a bottle of wine is unsettling. My quenched thirst had turned to emotional drunkenness; I had to sober up.

I anchored one hand to the sand, and slowly pushed myself to a seated position. He didn’t fight it, but our mouths never parted. When we were both seated again we heard the back door to the bar open; the second act for the night had finished, and everyone else in Finnegan’s wanted to enjoy the ocean breeze. Their interruption forced a quick space between us.
Damn them
.

“Shit!” I giggled as I returned my gaze to the ocean, my face hot with a desire I’d yet to feel in my 26 years.

“Yea, shit.” His voice was clipped and his body seemed a bit wobbly as he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me in to him, “Next time I hope we’re not interrupted.” Once again an unidentifiable feeling ran through me at the sound of his voice. When he was on stage, it was one thing. This was differe
nt
, it was
confusing.

“Get a room!”
Monica
teased like the teena
ger inside of her that I loved.

“Mon, really?” Jo
-
sh tried to pacify the situation.

“Like you’re any better,
Joshua
,” I jested.

Bo laughed as we turned our bodies so they could join us in the sand. Josh and Monica congratulated Bo on another great performance and Josh asked if he’d be back any weekend in the near future. Realization grounded my live nerves; he was from New Hampshire, just here for the weekend. He owed nothing to me, we just happened into this and now he had to go home. Monica must have seen me turn white through my thought process because she shot me a sympathetic smile. She understood.  In that same moment, Bo found my hand.

“I’d love to come back and play.” He didn’t release his grip. “I’ve actually got to stay in town this week for business. I’ve got plans Friday night, but I’d love to play Saturday.”

The color returned to my face and Monica’s smile echoed
; no longer sympathetic, it was excited
- devilish even
. My eyes told her to “shut up,” and she took a long look at Bo before flinging a cheeky smile my way.

“Bo, let’s get you settled up inside.” Josh flashed me a sweet and knowing look. He knew Monica and I needed to talk; he was more emotionally tuned in than I was sometimes.

“Wait for me?” Bo tilted his head, eyeing me when he stood up.

“Of course.” I smiled back as I watched Josh and Bo head back inside.

“Ember! I’ve never seen you like this. What’s gotten in to you? He is so
freaking
hot,” Monica squealed.

“You just answered your own question, my friend.”

“Are you going to go home with him tonight?” Her seriousness drew laughter out of me.

“Geez Mon, I don’t know. I don’t really
know
anything about him. He’s hot, he plays music, and he sings. Oh, and he’s from New
Hampshire, we have the same taste in music and we sing well together. That’s all I know.” My respo
nsible side came up for air for the first time after 24 hours of swimming in desire.

“You two have serious chemistry. I haven’t seen
that
look on your face since Adrian.” She winced a little as she said his name.

“You can bring up Adrian, Monica, we broke up like five years ago. We dated and had great sex. I fell in love but he didn’t
fall in after me. That’s all.”

Monica also knew that wasn’t
all
there was
- she was there. She held me as I cried. When Monica and I first met Josh at Finnegan’s, I saw sparks between them immediately. Still, she nearly asked my permission to date him. She treated what happened with Adrian with great care, even though it was years old. Maybe she knew more than I did how much it hurt. The dissolution of that relationship didn’t dissolve my belief in love, though. What I was feeling for Bo was
completely soul-shifting
.

I had to tread carefully, even though my bones ached and my soul thirsted for everything he had to offer. I’d spent the last day trying to think spontaneously, to remind myself that I didn’t care he would have to go home. After just a second kiss, however, I was starting to care.

Josh and Bo came back outside as Monica and I were dusting the sand off of ourselves.

“You guys want to come back to my place?” I asked, noting Monica’s gaping mouth.

They all agreed, and off we went. I knew it was risky to have someone I barely knew over to my house, but my friends would be there. And, if something should happen when we were alone, I’d know how to get out; an advantage you don’t have when you’re in unfamiliar territory.  We each got in to our respective cars and I used the drive home to gather the nerve I’d need to ask Bo to stay the night with me.

By the time we got to my apartment, I was riddled with indecision. I wanted to spend more time with
Bo,
but I didn’t want to play the Sex Card too early as a means to get him to want to spend more time with
me.
I wanted him badly, but the memories of what happened with Adrian reminded me to proceed with caution. I was already feeling things beyond physical desire for Bo, and I didn’t want to ruin that.

I gripped my steering wheel with the frustration that I couldn’t deny myself the physical satisfaction of this beautiful man because I was afraid of endangering a relationship we didn’t even have.
Ugh!
Still, it would be
no
for tonight.

The four of us
headed into my apartment
and opened up a bottle of wine in the living room. Monica and Josh settled for different chairs, which allowed Bo and me to sit together on the couch. I loved watching Josh and Monica look at each other. Her intense personality matched her dark eyes, and Josh looked like he was carved from the
earth; he
grounded her. T
hey were truly fire and earth.

Josh
is
the type of man that my parents would
love
to see me with. He
stru
m
s
a guitar well enough, has the type of relaxed
personality my parents thrived on, and he is nice to look at. I’d never really been physically attracted to Josh; almost as long as I’d known him he’d been with Monica. But I appreciated those qualities in him, which is why we hit it off as friends. The heat of the man sitting next to me was enough to break my view of “The Josh and Monica
Love Show.”

“Hey, where’d you go?” Bo shook me out of my daydream with a warm hand on my knee.

“Ah, you know, young love.” I gestured dramatically at Josh and Monica, which caused Josh to chuck a pillow at my head.

Over the next couple of hours
I learned a lot about Bo. He was in town on business for the foundation he works for. He said he didn’t want to bore us with details, but his trip had to do with fundraising. He graduated from UNH six years ago, placing him only two years older than me. Perfect. He had one younger sister, Rachel, whom he hadn’t seen in a couple of years, but his voice softened when he spoke of her. The big brother role looked good on him.

“What about your parents? Do they still live in New Hampshire?” I stroked the back of his hand, my other arm on the back of the couch.

“Uh, well, they died four years ago. Car accident
.
” The words staggere
d their way out of this throat.

“I’m so sorry.” My hand rested on top of his and gave a little squeeze.

“It’s
OK
,” he exhaled, “I was out of college and on my own as it was. Physically it was more of an adjustment for Rachel. She was a senior in high school and had to grow up too quickly.” His eyes focused on something that wasn’t in the room. I decided to drop it.

“OK,” Josh interrupted, “Monica and I are heading out.
I’ll be in touch this week Bo.”

“K, Man, thanks. Talk to you later.” Bo got up and shook Josh’s hand.

“Ember, call me tomorrow, K?” Monica asked as innocently as possible.

“Sure, talk to you tomorrow.”

“Be careful,” she whispered as she gave me a goodbye hug. I nodded and shut the door behind them.

Bo gathered the wine glasses and walked them to the kitchen. I
followed
behind him
.

“Thanks.” My hand brushed his when I reached for the dishtowel to dry the glasses.

He faced me and playfully grabbed my butt, pulling me to him for a quick, but passionate, kiss. I giggled like a fool and he laughed against my lips. Suddenly there was no giggling; we started to
give in to the passion again
. Bo spun me around and pressed my back against the refrigerator; my goosebumps punched the frigid stainless steel. He pinned both of my hands above my head as he leaned into me.
Yes.
His hips met mine, kneading in to me as his lips parted my own. The hurricane of passion that flew through his kiss rocked the boat holding my resolve.

“Shit,”
I breathed into his open mouth.

He groaned in agreement. I nudged my wrists forward, and he released them. I searched the deep muscles in his back and shoulder
s with my tense, longing hands.

“Mmmm
. . .
” he hummed as I ran my hands up his back on the inside of his shirt. His skin was soft, but the heat nearly burned my hands. I couldn’t tell if that was real, or in my head; regardless, I wanted more of it on me.

I stepped forward, urging my back off of the fridge. Bo gracefully stepped back without leaving my lips for a second. I turned him toward the counter, backing him slowly into it. This was the hottest dance session I’d ever had. We moved together, to the same rhythm
,
which I was beginning to think was my heartbeat
since that’s all I could hear.

Actually, I
could
hear music; the music we sang together, and the music he played. Another song sang along to the beat of my heart; I couldn’t place it, but I could feel it. My soul felt like it was singing to him
,
about him. Whatever it was, it took with it the last grain of my resolve, and I led him to the living room. We sat down in silence, but Bo stared so intensely in to my eyes that I thought I would melt right there. He tucked a hair behind my ear and left his hand there, redirecting the goosebumps down my neck.

Bo closed his eyes tight for a moment and reopened them at me, seeming to search for an answer to a question I hadn’t asked
- at least ou
t loud. He exhaled, “November
. . .
”

My only response was tug on his shirt - my eyes never leaving his - as I pulled him onto my reclined body. My long-gone resolve was swept under my ‘Welcome’ mat. The softness of his lips surprised me, given the sharpness of his jaw. But, the softer his kiss, the more I wanted. He let out a throaty approval as my hands slipped between us and found his yearning. I massaged the outside of his jeans, and as his pulse increased, mine followed. Swiftly he sat up, pulling me with him, and in one motion I was straddling him. His commanding hands held my hips in place as he grinded into me.

My pulse was frantic with need as I met his rhythm. I grasped one of his hands and guided it up the inside of my shirt, placing it on my breast. He worked me with firm hands that caused a faint whisper of ecstasy to flee my throat. He drew his hand greedily down my side and placed both palms on my back. The heat radiating from his long fingers was unreal.
God, I want him.
Our lips hadn’t left each other’s since we sat on the couch; it was as if they were making up for a lifetime’s worth of missed kisses.

I let out one low groan into his mouth, and the sound of my own voice startled my resolution into action from under the ‘Welcome’ mat. It dutifully hammered its way back through my veins and grounded the live wire whipping erratically inside me. If what I thought I was feeling for Bo was real, I cou
ldn’t give it all away tonight.

I slowed my breathing and my motions, nervous for a moment that he would think I was a cock-tease; but my concerns about his opinion of me bowed to my opinion of myself. Bo didn’t resist; he relaxed his hands as I slid off his legs, but our mouths weren’t finished with each other.

Still kissing in this less provocative position, I felt a small smile cross his lips as he planted soft kisses on my lip
s
, nose, and forehead. Stopped, with our foreheads touching, our breathing was too erratic to allow words. We sat, panting for a minute, before moving. He stretched his back against the couch, put his arm around my shoulders and kissed the top of my head before leading it to his shoulder. I responded with a kiss under his chin.