Chapter 7 Jace
SEVEN
JACE
If we run the microwave and the electric kettle at the same time, it trips the breaker.
Everything stops until it gets reset. This is like that.
Electricity surges through every part of me—my body, my brain, my heart—overloading the circuits.
The power goes out. I can’t move. Or speak.
I stare at Lannie, his words echoing on an endless loop in my head. “I want to teach you how to kiss.”
What is happening right now?
I’ve spent the better part of my teen years cataloging Lannie’s expressions. Years of interpreting his looks. His smiles. Every touch. But all that research is useless. None of it compares to the way he looks at me now.
There’s something in his eyes that both thrills and terrifies me.
The irony isn’t lost on me. I told myself I was moving on from my crush, but the truth is, my heart hasn’t given up.
Not at all. Lannie is almost thirty. I’m barely twenty-two.
Why would he ever be interested in me? My heart—and my brain is culpable in this as well—was skipping right over the straight part and making plans without my conscious knowledge.
I was dating those other guys—gaining experience—not to get over Lannie, but to be ready for the moment Lannie and I finally got together. So he could see me as an adult instead of a kid.
How could I be so stupid? I let out a laugh and hurt flashes in Lannie’s eyes.
“Sorry. It was just an idea.”
“No, Lannie,” I say, finally meeting his gaze. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m…” I shake my head. “I’m embarrassed.”
“What? Why?” He touches my face, his eyes fond, and fuck.
I’m gone. Is this still a crush? Or have I moved on to the falling-for-him-for-real phase?
I study his shirt, not wanting him to see.
But even that is dangerous. The peek of his collarbone through the opening of his shirt.
The graceful lines of his neck. The freckles on his chin.
“Jace, look at me.” I don’t point out that I am looking at him. Memorizing every detail. But he tips my chin, and his eyes look green in this light. Intense. Determined. His hand moves to the nape of my neck, holding me in place.
I bite my lip to hold in my gasp. His hand on my neck is possessive. That, combined with his woodsy scent, has my dick hard and straining against the zipper of my jeans. What if I lose control? Embarrass myself right here in front of Come Hither?
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about.” Ha. Nothing yet. But if he keeps staring at me like that, there will be something. He raises his brows. “Okay?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Good. So you’ll let me teach you how to kiss?” he asks, his voice taking on a teasing tone. “It’ll be a first for both of us.”
Not my first, as we’ve established. But then my mind catches up. “A first for you?”
He leans closer, his thumb caressing my neck. Does he realize what he’s doing? “My first kiss with a guy.”
My mouth goes completely dry. “Lannie—”
“Shh.” He places a finger over my lips. Fuck. Is he doing this on purpose? Taking my other hand, he says, “Let’s go back to your place.”
Is Lannie clueless or a big tease? The jury is still out. When we return to my apartment, I can’t stay still. This jittery feeling has me cleaning things that don’t need to be cleaned.
“What are you doing?” he asks, following me around.
I sweep imaginary crumbs from the floor before moving on to the counters.
“Cleaning.” I snap on my gloves, spray the countertop, and start wiping.
“Why?” He leans back against the sink, bathed in the soft white light above his head, on display like one of my pottery pieces. Only, this one’s perfect. No touchups needed.
Focusing back on my task, I scrub harder. “Just want to get it done.”
“Jace. Talk to me.” His hand touches my back, and I still. “What’s going on?”
What can I say?
I’m a mess. A pathetic mess. I’ve been in love with you since the day we met. And now you want to kiss me? Teach me?
I can’t even look at him. “I’m just nervous, I guess.” Peeling off my gloves, I put everything away. “Do you want some coffee? Tea? We have beer, but it’s Nikki’s—”
Lannie squeezes my shoulder. “Tea is fine.”
“It’s not iced.” I wave my hand lamely at the kettle. “I have hot tea—although I could make iced—”
“Jace,” he says, placing both hands on my shoulders so I can’t turn away, “I don’t care about the tea.” Then his eyes go wide. “Don’t tell your mom I said that.”
A giggle slips out. And another. Oh lord. But once I start, I can’t stop. Lannie laughs too, and it releases some of the tension in the room. And my body.
“I’m sorry.” I wrap my arms around myself. “I’m being weird.”
“You’re not.” He squeezes my shoulders. “While you make us some tea, I’m going to find us a playlist. Music makes everything better.”
Great. I hope I like the songs because they’ll be added to the Pining for Lannie Playlist and played over and over when this goes sideways. Because honestly? How could it not?
And that thought helps me relax. I’m going to be miserable, no matter what happens. So if this is all I get, I’m damn sure going to make the most of it.
I make the tea—it’s easier with Lannie out of the room—and doctor it exactly the way Lannie likes it.
The Police’s “Every Breath You Take” is playing from Lannie’s phone, and I can’t help but smile. This isn’t a romantic song—not that this is even a romance. It takes two for that.
It plays softly in the background as we drink our tea. Lannie clears his throat, and I tense. “You said you were bad at kissing. What do you mean?”
Heat crawls up my face, and now I wish I’d gone for iced tea. “Do we have to talk about it?”
“How can I help you if I don’t know?”
“You’ll know.”
Is it too late to call it off? I’m not a coward normally, but this is Lannie. It’s been torture trying to avoid him whenever I’m home.
What if I fuck everything up and he never wants to see me again?
“Hey…” Lannie takes my cup and sets it on the table.
I don’t resist as he stands and pulls me up with him.
He wraps his arms around me, and I tuck my face in the crook of his neck.
I feel warm. And safe. And incredibly turned on.
I want to kiss his neck. Lick him all over.
He brushes his hand through my hair. “I didn’t mean to upset you. We don’t have—”
I surge up to kiss him. Tired of worrying about it. Thinking about it. Talking about it. Lannie moves at the same time, and we bump heads.
“Ow.” I pull back.
“Are you okay?”
His eyes are so concerned, and I can’t take it. I shake my head. “Let’s call it—”
“Stop, Jace.” His words are firm. Is this the tone he uses with his animals? It’s very effective. His hand is cool as he cups my hot cheek. “Let’s talk about kissing.”
I shut my eyes, and he laughs. That deep laugh that reaches all the way to my turquoise-painted toes. “Go ahead,” I say with a snippy tone. “Talk.”
“By the way, Sassy Jace is one of my favorite things.”
I could challenge that remark. I remember plenty of times he didn’t appreciate my sass. But I don’t. Mostly because he’s brushing his thumb over my cheekbones and it’s doing things to my breathing.
“Kissing isn’t just foreplay. It’s a way to express yourself. Set the pace. Explore your partner’s likes and dislikes.”
My embarrassment gives way, and I focus on other things. His breath on my face. His hands. His thumb. But I don’t open my eyes. This is a demonstration. If all I find is kind Lannie, sweet Lannie, I’m not sure I can take it. “Are we going to do more than talk?”
I can hear the smile in his voice. “Patience. Don’t be so eager.”
“I shouldn’t be eager to kiss…someone?” I ask, opening my eyes to give him a look. “Do you know what you’re doing?”
I love the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs. “Maybe not,” he says, in a teasing voice. “But I know more than you.”
“Ha.” I smack his chest, and he kisses my forehead.
And then his eyes are on me, and I can’t breathe. “One of the best things about kissing is the anticipation.”
His thumb lightly caresses my cheek as he leans closer.
With less than an inch between us, his lips part, and the waiting is torture.
He’s testing me. And fuck, I’ve never wanted to both ace a test and fail it.
Because I need to kiss him. I make a keening sound in my throat.
I’m not past begging. And then his lips brush mine.
It’s everything, but I can’t enjoy it because he pulls away, and I follow.
He chuckles and does it again. And again.
Barely there kisses that leave me aching for more.
“Lannie, please.”
He inhales sharply and crushes our mouths together, all teasing gone. His hand grips the back of my head as he kisses me harder. Owning the kiss. Owning me.
When he pulls back, I take a quick breath and lick my lips.
Newsflash. Lannie knows what he’s doing.
Then his mouth is on mine again, and I get lost in his kisses. He licks at the seam of my lips, asking for entry. And I freeze.
I start to pull away.
“Hold on,” he says, his voice soft. “We don’t have to do that if you don’t want to.”
“It’s not that.” I swallow my embarrassment. “I’ve tried it… Felix said—”
He growls. “Felix is an idiot.”
I laugh. “True.”
His eyes are soft. Sweet. “Trust me, okay?”
I do trust him. Lannie would never intentionally hurt me. Unintentionally? Well, I’ve been there lots of times. I nod. “Okay.”
He smiles, and I swear tiny hummingbirds have taken up residence in my stomach. All flapping at the same time. Another sweet kiss. And another. Then his tongue gently presses against my lips again, and I gasp, waiting for him.
But nothing happens.
He’s waiting for me.
“I want your tongue in my mouth, Jace. I want it sliding against mine as I suck on it.” His hands tighten and his breaths are no longer steady. “Will you let me taste you?”
I surge forward and kiss him. Closed-mouth kisses at first, and then I lick hesitantly into his mouth. He slides his tongue against mine, and holy hell! Lust surges through me. This man can kiss.
And then we’re making out, and breathing seems like a waste of time. He leads and then lets me take over. I could kiss him forever, except there’s so much more I want to do. I pull back and gulp in a lungful of air.
“Are you okay? Was that too much?”
I put my fingers over his swollen lips and get lost in his sweet hazel eyes. “Lannie. Can I touch you?”