Thirty-One
Thirty - One
Than
My knee bounced under my hand as I stared at the closed door to Montana’s bedroom. Forty-eight hours of silence, and I was about to fucking snap.
Leaving this morning before she came out of the bedroom had been harder than I’d thought. But then, yesterday had been hell, so I had thought this would be easier.
It wasn’t. I’d had a lot of time to think. More than I needed.
She thought I was mad at her. I was furious with myself. It had taken me some self-reflection to figure that out, but I had. I wanted her so damn bad that I was seconds away from jerking that door open and telling her whatever she wanted to hear. Agreeing to anything.
And if it was just about wanting to get her naked and my cockhead in that tight cunt again, then I could accept it. But that wasn’t all it was. Because every time she didn’t look at me, and she didn’t smile, and she looked so goddamn sad, it made my chest hurt. And that was the root of my fury.
She hadn’t come out to get dinner, and it was after eight. Why wasn’t she coming out? She’d gotten food the other times I was in the cabin. It had been silent. In fact, there hadn’t been one word spoken between us since I’d walked out of my bedroom two nights ago.
The ride home, there had been so much tension that it was hard to breathe. I’d come so close to telling her I was sorry. But if I did that, then…then I would have to listen to her. Find out what it was she had been trying to say. Although I had a feeling I knew the gist of it.
She’d been aware that sexual things were going to lead to her having feelings for me, and since I’d gone out of my way to make sure while we’d been out that day to not treat her differently, it had led to her stopping things. And I couldn’t fucking blame her for that.
Hell, I had opened doors for complete strangers and not done it for her. I’d been a complete dick. But the threat that she’d smile at me and her eyes would do that soft, sweet gaze that made me want to grab her face and see if her mouth was as sweet as the rest of her had been the cause of my dick behavior. I should have just talked to her. Told her that this wasn’t some beginning of a relationship. Made sure she understood where we stood.
Rolling my eyes at my own thoughts, I shook my head. I was worried about her not wanting some commitment from me that we couldn’t have when I was ready to start ripping off the limbs of my friends who so much as tried to get near her. It was me who needed to be talked to.
FUCK! What was I supposed to do with this? And how did I get my chest to stop doing weird shit? It was uncomfortable.
Movement in the other room caught my attention, and I stopped bouncing my leg and stilled to listen. She was walking. The hardwood creaked right before she reached the door, and then the knob turned. Relief. She was going to eat.
Yes, I cared. I cared about all kinds of shit I shouldn’t.
Swinging my eyes back to the baseball game with my attention solely on her, I listened as she walked over to the counter. A cabinet opened, the refrigerator. This was my chance to say something. Fix this. I missed her. There, I’d admitted it. I missed her. I enjoyed being around her. She made me…she made me smile. She also made me hard, but that wasn’t what I was focusing on here.
Say something, dammit!
“The chicken enchiladas—”
The sound of glass shattering cut me off, and I spun around to see her standing in the middle of what looked like a broken glass.
“I, um, I’m sorry,” she stammered and started to bend over to get the shards.
I jumped up. “NO! You’ll cut yourself. Just wait. Don’t move.”
Her eyes lifted to mine, and I noticed then they were bloodshot. Had she been crying? Fuck. I really hoped she hadn’t been crying. The chest shit was back.
I got to her and stepped over the glass then scooped her up as she gasped. She clung to my arms while I carried her to the sofa and lowered her down onto it.
“Sit here. I’ll get a broom.”
“It slipped. You, uh, spoke, and I wasn’t expecting it. I just—”
“Six,” I said, stopping her, “it’s a broken glass. Doesn’t matter.”
She took a deep breath, then blew it out and nodded, although she still seemed nervous. The fucking glass could wait. I couldn’t take much more of this.
I sat down beside her, and she stiffened. I deserved that.
“I’m sorry,” I told her. “I was a complete dick. And it wasn’t your fault.”
She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t get up and leave either. Or try to leave. If she attempted it, I would pin her to this sofa until she forgave me.
“What I said, how I reacted in my bedroom the other night…that was me. I was mad at myself. Not you. But I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have.”
This time, she frowned. “I don’t understand.”
I ran a hand over my head and sighed. “Yeah, well, you wouldn’t. I didn’t talk to you about it. I…” Pausing, I looked at her. If I was as honest as I could be with her, then we could possibly both get something we wanted, and she wouldn’t have a reason to cry. “I like being around you. I enjoy your company. I really like the way you look, and if it wasn’t clear the other morning, I want to fuck you. But you’re a virgin, and I know from experience that virgins get attached emotionally when they have sex for the first time. They confuse pleasure with love. And I was afraid you were going to think you had feelings for me, and that would cause a host of shit. Because we can’t be anything…other than friends.” I stopped talking to assess how she was taking this. I wasn’t sure if I was saying it right.
She dropped her gaze to her hands, which she’d clasped tightly in her lap.
“I tried to get the we are only friends thing across the wrong way. I treated you like a fucking dude, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it like that. And your reaction in my room after a day of that kind of treatment was fair. I deserved it.”
I reached over and eased her hands apart. She was so tense. Taking one, I held it in mine and ran my thumb over the top of it.
“I want us to be friends. And if we mess around, that’s all we will do. I won’t take your virginity. It’s not mine to take.” I had to stop and swallow to try and loosen up my throat. It had gone tight. “That’s for the guy you fall in love with.”
Fuck, what was wrong with my throat? It was closing up—or it felt like it at least. I tried clearing it. The image of some unknown guy fucking her was playing in my head, and that wasn’t helping. My hand had tightened on hers, and I forced myself to relax or attempt to.
“Can you forgive me? Can we have our friendship back? And if you don’t want me to touch you, then I won’t. But remember how awesome those orgasms were. I mean”—I grinned—“while you’re deciding what you want to do.”
The corner of her lips tugged up, and the relief from her hint of a smile almost made my throat open back up.
“I mean, you’ve not had the experience of my tongue down there. I’ve got skills, and I think it would be an unfair decision to make before you’ve at least ridden my face.”
Her breathing hitched, and her eyes widened. “Uh,” she breathed. “I, uh, want to be friends too. And I can’t promise I won’t develop an attachment if we do sexual things…” She trailed off and blushed. “But I won’t let it change things. Between us and our friendship.”
So, that was a yes? Right?
I was struggling to concentrate. Her lips were distracting me.
“We’re good then? I’m forgiven?”
She nodded.
“And we can still mess around?”
Another nod.
I was tempted to push her back and rip off her pajama shorts, but she hadn’t eaten yet.
“Good,” I said, tearing my eyes off her mouth. That was a no-go zone, and I should probably bring that up. “It’s best we don’t kiss. At least on the mouth,” I added with a flirty grin.
She licked her lips, and I wanted to groan.
“Okay.”
The disappointment in her eyes didn’t help. I already wanted her mouth. But not getting everything I wanted would protect her. I’d hurt her once, and I fucking refused to do it again.
“Um, could you…start sleeping in the bed with me? I don’t wake up every time the wind blows when you’re in there. And I’m tired.”
Because of the fucker who hadn’t shown up again. He’d gone silent. The car that had been at the Bed and Breakfast was an employee who had been doing a grocery run and forgotten something. We had no lead. Not one damn thing.
“Only if you sleep naked,” I teased, wanting to lighten the mood.
She bit her bottom lip, and I couldn’t tell if it was from being nervous or if it was from excitement.
“Really?” she asked.
“We can compromise. Wear the silky pajama shorts thingy, but no panties.”
Her breathing hitched, and then…she nodded.