Chapter Fifteen #2
He lifted his arm, and I snuggled closer, sighing happily when it draped around me, his palm cupping my upper arm.
“So pizza’s gonna be about twenty minutes, they said.”
I nodded. “What will we do until they arrive?”
Another chuckle. “Well, if you asked the wrong man that, you’d get some pretty smutty answers.”
Oh. “But not you?”
Harley’s palm was gently moving back and forth on my arm, and he leaned forward, moving me with him, as he reached for my drink and handed it to me.
“Don’t you want to know how I guessed that was your mug? I mean, assuming I got it right?”
I had been wondering! “Yes,” I replied, a little relieved that he’d changed the subject, while at the same time thinking that maybe he did it because he wasn’t interested in more with me. More of anything.
“It was the only mug not resting upside down in the cupboard and it was out of line with the others. I figured there had to be a good reason for that.”
Damn, he was observant.
“It’s got your ride on it too, so I was pretty sure.” He was right again. It was literally a photograph of my own motorcycle that I took.
“Why don’t you want to do smutty things with me?” I froze the moment those words escaped. Yes, I’d been wondering, no matter what we were talking about, but now they were out there, and I didn’t know how to undo them.
“Uh… I’m guessing you didn’t mean to ask that, but I’m gonna answer anyway.”
Harley lifted my mug back out of my hands and set it down, catching my chin and turning my head so I was facing him. He did that a lot, and I relished each touch, as if I didn’t normally flee from them from others.
“I-”
“I do want to.”
Wait. What?
“You do?”
Harley nodded, his eyes smiling with him.
“I don’t know when things changed between us, but the more we’re around each other, the more I want to spend time with you, and the more I want those things. I would never push you, or try to make you do anything like that though.”
I swallowed hard, pulling my bottom lip in a little, not biting it, but maybe moistening it, like I was thinking about lips right now, like both of ours. I saw Harley’s eyes dart down to catch the movement.
“Caroline?”
“What if I want to?”
He stroked my cheek gently, tucking a springy curl behind my ear.
“Want to what? I’ll give you anything you want.”
My eyes lowered to his lips and he smiled again.
“You’re giving me all the signs that you want to kiss me, but I’m a real asshole, Caroline.
I really want verbal consent before I do anything.
Not because I’m wanting to push you to say things you’re not comfortable saying, but because I don’t trust that I understand your boundaries well enough to know if your signals are telling me the right thing. Does that make sense?”
I nodded, feeling my heart racing a little faster.
“And if I don’t say anything?”
“Nothing happens. We go on as we are. We talk, we laugh, we eat, we drink, and we hold hands and stuff.”
“That’s not enough for most men.”
Harley chuckled. “I’m not most men.”
I think that’s the main point, the main reason why I felt so safe with him, why I felt like he’d always respect my crazy boundaries, and not use them against me like I feared others might have in the past.
“What if I say I want something and then I can’t?”
All humour dropped from Harley’s face.
“Then it doesn’t happen. You want to try something, you say, and if you change your mind, I back off. That’s just how it should be. If men don’t agree to that, they’re not men. They’re predators.”
I took a deep breath. “Does kissing have to be about tongues?”
Harley’s thumb brushed over my lips gently. “Not at all. That part’s fun too, but no.”
“Show me,” I whispered, watching him as his eyes lowered again to look at mine. He bit his bottom lip briefly and then he nodded. Oh god, he was going to kiss me. This wasn’t like that clumsy attempt of mine the other day. This was for real!
“Push me back if you want me to stop, okay?” I nodded, and then I watched as Harley’s face moved closer, until my eyes drifted closed on instinct, and I flinched just a tiny bit when his warm lips touched mine.
It… it was nice. His fingers threaded through my hair and he gently angled my face as he continued to place soft kisses on my lips, and his scent wafted over me again, making me feel even more connected to him.
I found myself moving my lips with his, accepting his kisses, and offering my own.
It was sweet, and sexy, and exciting, and terrifying all at once.
I wanted to stop, but I also wanted more.
I wanted… I wanted to see how it could be, and that’s why my tongue brushed his lips and he groaned, a soft trembling sound, as he tensed, pulling back from me.
I felt dazed, just from a kiss, because something about it made me feel floaty and calm, but also desperate for more.
“Caroline-”
“More,” I whispered, cutting him off.
“What if you get overwhelmed? I don’t want you thinking this is a bad thing, because it’s not. Kissing you is… it’s everything.”
Tears stung my eyes at the sweetness of his words, and I lifted my hand, cupping the back of his head as I pulled us closer together again.
“More,” I murmured more firmly, as my lips touched his again.
This time, when I opened my mouth, my tongue teasing his lips, he reciprocated, his tongue brushing mine, a sensation that tore a little gasp from me.
Not a bad sensation. Not at all. Harley froze, and I tightened my hand on the back of his head, pressing in again for more kisses, more of him.
“Caroline,” he groaned, resisting me even as his own hand tightened on my hair.
“Please. I want to try.”
His low groan disappeared into our mouths as they came together again, and desperation turned a sweet kiss into something I’d never experienced before.
His tongue danced against mine, and it didn’t freak me out, or disgust me.
It was Harley. It was magical. Perfection. I didn’t ever want to stop kissing him.
The doorbell made us both freeze, our mouths still connected, until a giggle escaped, and Harley backed up with a laugh of his own.
“Saved by the bell?”
“Or kiss-blocked by it,” I retorted as he got up and answered it, paying for the pizza, while I sat in the same place, my fingers pressed against my lips, which felt almost bruised by our fervent kissing.
“Come on, pretty girl. Let’s stuff our faces.”