Page 27 of His to Love
I curled my fingertips around the edge of the counter. “I know.”
I did. He would never force me to do something I didn’t want. The problem was I did want it. I just didn’t know if it was smart. Or if I wanted to be smart. Slowly, I turned my head to look at him, and I saw the same indecision in his eyes that I felt.
Yeah. Tyson wanted me, but he didn’t think it was smart either. I didn’t know what to think about that, so instead of asking, I opened the fridge, handed him a beer, and grabbed one for me.
“Want to watch a movie?” I asked once we popped the tops on our beers. I watched as he tipped the beer bottle to his lips, followed the slow movements of his throat as he swallowed, and kept my eyes pinned on his mouth when he licked a drop off his full bottom lip.
“Movie’s good.”
Nerves fluttered and swirled inside me, like I was sixteen all over again, making my heart beat faster as I slid past him and headed toward the living room.
Tyson’s steps were quicker than mine though, and he beat me to the couch. When he sat down, he took control over the remote, something that made me smile. With his other hand, he wrapped my waist and pulled me down so I was forced to sit next to him, and I curled into his side.
It felt so natural, so soothing, I didn’t move away.
With my beer in my hand, I let Tyson flip through the channels until he came across a Tigers’ game and he set the remote down.
“Thought we were going to watch a movie.”
“Movies suck, and there’s a game on.”
I took a quick drink from my beer, hiding my smile. “Of course. Because the Tigers could lose if you don’t cheer for them when you’re not there in person. They can tell, you know.”
He took his beer, tapped our tops together, and put it to his lips. I could hear the smile in his voice. “Seems you do remember the important things.”
So we sat like that for the next couple of hours, long after night had fallen and my eyes grew heavy, but I was enjoying this too much. This quiet peace between us where it felt like we’d gotten our past on the table, then silently decided to let it go and move on.
The question though, was move on to what?
It felt incredible to be around him again, like a part of me that had been missing had now been found. He helped me forget about the stuff with my mom. I hadn’t once thought about the request from my parents earlier today. The man next to me consumed my thoughts as his thumb trailed slow, gentle circles along my shoulder, on and off for the last hour. We barely spoke, except during commercials, because I definitely remembered that one did not speak during a Tigers game. That teasing circling on my shoulder sent shocks of desire to everywhere else in my body. And even though I was fighting to stay awake, I didn’t want Tyson to leave. I didn’t want him to head to wherever he was going to go when he left here, without getting another taste of him.
I wanted to feel him.
Turning, I shifted into him so my hand wrapped around his waist and I looked up. His hand on my shoulder tightened and his head dipped. We looked into each other’s eyes, and with each passing moment, electricity sparked and zapped in the space between us.
He still looked conflicted.
I was past caring. My hand tightened on his stomach, slowly drifted higher to brush over his hard chest, and I watched his pulse increase at the base of his throat.
“Blue,” he said. It was a warning or a plea. I didn’t know, and I didn’t care.
Curling my legs beneath me, I sat up so I was on my knees and leaned forward. “Kiss me, Tyson,” I said.
He swallowed thickly, making me think he was going to push me away, when one of his hands dropped to my waist and the other slid to the back of my neck just like before. Then he tugged me forward until I was almost draped over his lap. He shifted, and my thighs spread to the outside of his until I was straddling him.
My hands went to his cheeks.
His hands pulled me forward.
Then his lips fell to mine, and he stole my breath the moment he touched me. There was no slow, passionate buildup; there was only fire and heat and intensity that I couldn’t ever remember feeling before.
I pressed my chest against his and ran my hands down his neck to his shoulders. I held on while he devoured me, tasting every place he could find inside my mouth, holding me firmly against him so I couldn’t move away.
Not that I wanted to.
I was exactly where I wanted to be.
My hips shifted, and I moaned into his mouth. He was hard beneath me. A bulge so thick it was noticeable through his denim and the lightweight cotton of my yoga pants. I didn’t even care that I wasn’t dressed sexily. That my hair was in a disheveled ponytail that only got worse as Tyson’s fingers dug into my scalp. As if he possessed mind reading capabilities, his fingers moved higher until he pulled the holder out of my hair and black strands fell to my cheeks, framing my face, and blocking out anything besides Tyson.
