Chapter 13
13
“You want us to go swimming?” I ask. “Now? With no clothes on?”
“It’s where this is heading, isn’t it?”
“I actually thought we were moving more toward me leaving as opposed to us undertaking any naked aquatic adventures.”
He grimaces. “Maybe I wasn’t clear, but I don’t want you to leave. Especially not when you’re upset at me.”
“Um. Yeah. You’re not exactly subtle.”
In lieu of a response, his fingers go to the top button on his jeans and damn . He needs to stop it with the striptease. Now.
I grab his hands and hold fast. “I would take it as a personal favor if you would please stop taking your clothes off.”
He peers down at me, and the side of his mouth kicks up. Oh, good. He’s happy again. My distress at his bare chest pleases him, apparently. And the moment I attempt to remove my hands from his, he starts back in on the zipper. His smirk is sly as fuck. Jerk. The backs of my fingers brush against his bare stomach and warm skin. A shiver runs through both of us. It’s like we’re connected. I can feel the heat radiating from him. With all of this on show, it’s also hard to know where to look. I settle for a freckle on his left shoulder. It’s lopsided and kind of cute. Like a little wonky smile.
“No one’s said that to me before,” he says. “Told me to stop taking my clothes off.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong—”
“You’re wrong.”
“Ha. You’re not funny.”
He lifts one thick shoulder in a half-assed shrug. “Matter of opinion.”
“Enough with the nonsense,” I say, gripping the waistband of his jeans and holding it together for dear life. “As I was about to say when you so rudely interrupted. Are you taking your clothes off because you lost the argument? Is this you trying to reassert control of the situation by wantonly flaunting yourself?”
“Of course not,” he says with much scoffing. “Why would you even think that?”
I just wait.
“Fine,” he concedes. “Maybe a little. But it’s more to do with what the argument was about.”
“Please explain.”
After a heavy sigh, he says, “You were right. I was jealous. You win, Lilah. We’re not just friends . Therefore, this is the direction we’re heading in, right?”
“As in both of us taking our clothes off? I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” he asks with much doubt. “Seriously?”
“That’s what I said.”
At this, he snorts. “Let me guess. You’d prefer we take things slow, overthink it for a while, throw in some mutual pining, and see what happens.”
“No. I just think stepping back from this just for tonight might not be a bad idea.”
“It’s not a good one either.”
“Would it mean anything, us having sex?”
“Does it have to mean anything?”
“I don’t know. I’m obviously not averse to hookups, but this feels different,” I say. “Why don’t we give ourselves tonight to think this over? Circle back to the subject tomorrow over lunch or drinks or something?”
“Did you actually just suggest we circle back to the subject of us having sex?”
“Yeah...”
“Tell me you’re not working on a list in your mind entitled ‘Reasons Lilah and Alistair Shouldn’t Bang.’”
“That wasn’t the title I was going with, but there’s nothing wrong with a nice clear bullet-point presentation of the facts. And it was more of a pros-and-cons thing.”
“Right. Well, I think we should just fuck and get it out of the way,” he says wisely. Or so the sage expression on his face seems to suggest. “I’ll give you the great sex you’re after. You can tick another item off your wish list. Then we can go back to being just friends.”
“Get it out of the way... I don’t know.”
“I didn’t hear a yes. Did you mean to insert a yes in there?”
I pin my lips shut with my teeth for a moment. “Just to double-check. You’re offering me sex followed by a swift return to platonic friendship?”
“Great sex. That’s right.”
“The ego on you. I’m trusting you to keep your pants on,” I say, taking a step back. It’s nice to hear he finds me attractive and wants to play naked with me. Given the whole “I might be dead soon” issue, I should probably jump on both the opportunity and the man. It’s the only reasonable response to such an offer in such a situation. And yet I am hesitating.
“Well?” He puts his hands on his hips and stares down at me. “Are you done overthinking it?”
“For now. Things feel weird between us, and I don’t want to compound the situation.” My polite smile is small and set. “Therefore, my decision is we have sex tomorrow. This would also give us both time to anticipate the act, which I think would be pleasant.”
By the positioning of his dark brows, I am able to see that the man is both put out and surprised. Being denied things is not his norm. “Why not tonight?”
“Tomorrow is really not that far away.”
“Or, and hear me out here, you could just take off your clothes now.”
“That’s another issue. I need a minute to get used to the idea of being naked in front of you,” I say. My face feels hot again. There’s a chance I might be allergic to all this honesty, particularly in one night.
His eyebrows rise in surprise. “Why?”
“No. We’re not discussing this. It’s personal and messy. But I’m also not always great with surprises, and honestly, this coming from you has been quite surprising.”
“What are you worried about, Lilah?”
It is absolutely my turn to ignore a question. Getting into my relationship with my own body and a lifetime’s worth of negative messaging from the media about the same is a no. Then there’s me wanting time to shave and wax and primp some. “What time suits you tomorrow?”
But the cranky and still-half-naked man didn’t seem to get the message. He takes a step toward me and says, “You’re not delaying because you’re worried I’ll be shit in bed, are you?”
I wrinkle my nose in both distaste and confusion. “Are you serious?”
“You heard me.”
My mouth opens, but holy hell. “That’s what you took away from what I said, huh? That me needing a minute is all about you? That I’m doubting your prowess?”
“Answer the question, please.”
“Now that you mention it, I do only have your lofty opinion of yourself to go by. I don’t suppose you’ve made any home movies or have an ex you’d be comfortable with me having a chat with? A dick pic or two also wouldn’t go amiss. If you don’t mind, of course.”
We stand there and frown at each other. It’s a beautiful moment. Not.
“We’re not going to fuck tonight,” he says finally, his shoulders drooping with disappointment. Which is actually kind of gratifying.
“That’s right. We aren’t,” I agree, reaching for the door handle. “I’m seeing my mom in the morning. But I’m free after that. Let me know what time suits you.”
“Right. I’ll schedule you in,” he says dryly. “You still won’t let me drive you home?”
“No. Thank you.”
“Wait,” he says. “One more thing. You let Gael and Shane kiss you good-night. Don’t you think I should get the same consideration?”
“You want to kiss me on the cheek like them?”
He nods.
“As just friends.”
“Right,” he agrees. “Just friends. Who you are going to fuck tomorrow.”
“All right,” I say with a smile.
He steps closer and leans in, his lips brushing against my cheek. They’re warm as is his breath on my skin. I hold myself perfectly still, waiting to see what will happen. Anticipation might just kill me. Every hair on my body stands on end. He brushes the tip of his nose against mine before going in for another cheek kiss. Only it’s not really a kiss. It’s him lightly dragging his lips along my jawline and up to my ear. My very sensitive ear. He gives my lobe a gentle nudge with the tip of his nose as well. Like he’s just experimenting. Finding out the ways in which we can get close.
“You’re so soft,” he whispers.
“Mmm.”
“And you always smell so good.”
“It’s just soap,” I manage to say. “And perfume, a couple of face creams, and deodorant, of course. Guess you could include my shampoo and conditioner on the list too.”
“That’s good to know. But you’re overthinking it again.”
This is all very friendly and flirty. But he hasn’t yet strayed into straight-out seduction territory. Not yet. My stomach is already topsy-turvy. I’m standing in the open doorway, and my back is to the door frame, and he’s right in front of me. So close. And still only half dressed despite my very reasonable request for him to put on his shirt. I scrunch up my fingers into fists and touch nothing. Letting him set the pace. Though he goes no further and seems to be finished.
“Okay,” I say. “Good night.”
He pulls back a little and blinks. Oh, fuck. His eyes are such a hypnotizing shade of blue in this low light. The man and his intensity dazzle me. There’s no other word for it. And the expression on his face, like how dare I. “I’m not finished yet, Lilah.”
“Well, did you want to move it along a—”
“No.”
“I swear, you’re just like a toddler sometimes. No seems to be the only word you know tonight.” I sigh. “When Shane kissed me on the cheek, it really was more of a there-and-gone sort of thing.”
“What about Gael?”
“He may have lingered a little.”
Alistair just grunts. Then he stops playing and angles his head and covers his lips with mine. Giving me a firm and insistent closed-mouth kiss. Chaste, but not really. His eyes are closed, and his dark lashes are so long. A vein of tension seems to be running through him, stringing him out from head to toe. Because his hands are curled into fists and hanging by his sides too. Just like mine.
He doesn’t stop or take a step back or any such thing. He just keeps kissing me. And this kiss is asking me a question. No. It is pleading with me. I open my mouth the smallest amount, and I can feel his smile rather than see it. His hands cup my face and his tongue traces over my bottom lip and whoa . Off we go. My eyelids slide closed and my mind spins in dizzy circles. We have most definitely moved beyond friendly kissing.
His tongue sweeps into my mouth and toys with mine. Teasing and inviting and turning me on. It is all so hot and good. He tastes faintly of beer and mostly of warmth. Not a flavor I would have recognized before, but here we are. I can’t explain it, but he’s everything. He’s just everything. I don’t know when my hands went rogue. They are, however, pawing at him like there’s no tomorrow. How shameful. The thrill of running my fingertips over his warm skin. Over his stomach and around his sides and up the strong lines of his back. I want to mark him with my nails just a little. Just enough to leave a reminder that I was there.
A sound of pure need comes from deep in his throat and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. My skin is electric and alive. Everything low in me squeezes tight in want. My vagina is a total traitor. Catching my breath seems to take forever.
“You lied, Ali. That was not a simple kiss on the cheek. Not even a little.”
He rests his forehead against mine and says, “We could still fuck tonight. Now. Right now.”
“No. I want to do this right. It matters to me.” My heart is galloping inside my chest. Just running right out of control. I push him back and pull myself together. “I’m leaving. I’m going home. I mean it this time.”
“Just to check I have made myself absolutely clear. I don’t want you to have sex with someone else. Let me give you what you want. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“You’re really leaving?”
I nod.
His face is now a careful blank. As if he’s reined in his hunger. But his lips are swollen and damp from me. Then he says these words like a promise: “Stay near the light by the gate where I can see you. We’ll continue this tomorrow.”