8. Kaycia
Chapter 8
Kaycia
I watch Shane’s back as the front door closes. The tension in his broad shoulders relaxes when the latch clicks and he turns toward me. He rubs a hand across the back of his neck, an endearing, nervous gesture I’ve noticed him make several times tonight, as he raises his eyes from the tile to meet mine. His dark blond hair is longer on top, the sides buzzed close, so some falls across his forehead as he gives a sideways smile.
“Hope they weren’t too much for you to deal with in one evening,” he murmurs, stepping closer to where I lean against his kitchen island.
“They were wonderful,” I say with a relaxed smile. I don’t have to exaggerate. It was wonderful to meet people like me, people I could imagine inviting to coffee on Sunday mornings, exploring museums alongside, or spontaneously splitting a bottle of wine with on the weekend. “Thank you again, Shane.”
“For?”
“Fixing my A/C, inviting me over, making me feel welcome,” I reply with a sad little smile. “Today was one of those days where I was considering giving up. When the A/C went out and maintenance wouldn’t answer, I really started questioning all my choices. I’m not sure I would have been able to block out my mom’s nagging if you hadn’t come over to help me. So, thank you.”
“I’m glad I could help.” His reply is husky and pitched low.
He’s moved even closer now so that I can smell whatever deliciously masculine scent he wears, citrus and sandalwood maybe. His eyes don’t drift from where they’ve landed on my lips, just like earlier on the balcony. The attraction between us is undeniable, it’s been almost palpable all evening and now there’s no one to interrupt. As he moves closer my breath hitches, and my heart patters in my chest. He’s at least a head taller than me, so when he places one hand on either side of my hips, braced against the granite countertop, he looks down at me.
“I would hate for you to have a reason to move away when I’m finally getting to know you.”
“I don’t think you have to worry,” I whisper, my breasts brushing against his chest when I take a deep breath. “I think I’ve got plenty of reason to stay right where I am.”
Shane huffs a little laugh before angling my chin up with one hand, running the pad of his thumb over my cheekbone. His touch sends electricity zinging through my body. “Kaycia?”
“Yes?” My voice is so quiet I can barely hear it over the blood pounding in my ears. I desperately want him to kiss me, to press my body against him.
“May I kiss you?”
“Yes,” I breathe, barely above a whisper. Any nervousness is obliterated by anticipation and desire.
As the word leaves my lips, Shane is already there, his mouth warm and searching as his lips tease mine. He nips at my lower lip, then sucks it into his mouth causing me to gasp and press myself against the hard planes of his body. The low growl in his throat in response makes my core go molten and I wrap my arms around him, one hand cradling the back of his head and gripping his soft hair while the other cups his cheek. His kisses are needy as he runs his hands over my back, holding me close as we explore one another. My body goes taut and loose at the same time under his touch, my breasts heavy with need and my core aching for more. But as our embrace grows more passionate, I feel him pull back, forcing me to open my eyes and meet his breathless stare. Shane’s eyes are alight, the pupils blown black as he watches me. His lips are swollen from our kisses and a twinge of possessiveness and pleasure rushes through me knowing I’ve made him look so undone.
“I should say goodnight,” he whispers, gently pressing his forehead against mine as he takes a ragged breath.
“Oh,” I reply, dropping my gaze. “Okay, sure.”
“Hey,” Shane says, tilting my chin back up so I’m forced to look at him. “I want you,” he murmurs, pressing the evidence of how his body has responded to me against my hip.
When I arch against him, he groans, “Gods, I want you. But you’ve had a rough day, you said it yourself. I don’t want to take advantage of that.” He runs his eyes over me, then his hands, gripping my hips as he runs his nose against my neck and steals all my good sense. With a final ragged inhale, he chuckles and offers a wry smile, pushing himself away from me. “Okay, so maybe I very much want to take advantage of it. But I won’t.”
I catch myself returning the expression with my own grin, a little giggle escaping my lips.
“Maybe you’ll just have to take advantage of me after a real date then, huh?”
“Maybe so. I seem to recall you agreed to one next weekend,” he returns, his expression turning wicked. It makes me want to do equally wicked things to him.
“I did. Well, in that case, goodnight, Shane. I’ll see you around.”
“Yes, yes you will.”
* * *
S hane escorted me out the door of his place and watched, leaning against the frame, as I unlocked my own door. Heat flooded my cheeks with my last smile, seeing him looking as undone as I felt. He waited until I was safely inside before I heard his door shut, as if something would happen to me in the five steps between our apartments.
My head feels light as I flop down on my bed, and I know it isn’t from the wine I drank. It’s been years since I’ve been truly interested in anyone romantically. Everyone I grew up with either moved away or got married, narrowing my relationship prospects to nil once I broke up with my college boyfriend. Only first dates and disappointments have followed in his footsteps.
Since moving to the city, I’ve been so preoccupied with building my portfolio and getting to know my way around that I haven’t even considered my love life. I’ve noticed Shane before, he’s been the love interest in more than one lurid dream since I moved in. But I never considered he might have noticed me, too.
Until now.
Bless Max’s big mouth—I get the feeling if he hadn’t pressed the issue, Shane wouldn’t have asked me to the show next weekend. Not because he didn’t want to, the tension between us is definitely not one-sided, but according to his friends’ teasing, he doesn’t go out much.
Something we have in common, then.
I rub my fingertips against my lips, thinking about the kiss we shared in his kitchen, the passion and need in his touch, and I can’t fight the smile that comes unbidden to my face or the quiet laugh that escapes my kiss-swollen mouth. I wish I hadn’t said anything about having a rough day. Maybe if I’d been more guarded, I’d still be next door making out with him, preferably naked.
But no. It’s better this way.
Plus, he proved he’s a decent guy by backing off, even if I’d gladly have let him take things further.
Shit, I’ve already got it bad.
And I can’t wait for next weekend.
I strip off my tank top and pants, thankful for the cool air that blows through the vents, and pull on an oversized tee. I know I should go to bed, but I’m too stimulated from the good company and the excellent kiss to even think about lying down. Instead, I pour a glass of cucumber water from the pitcher in the fridge and push the small window near my paints open. A few clicks on my phone has my speaker playing my favorite playlist before I place the new canvas on the easel.
I wasn’t lying when I mentioned painting a handsome man at sunset.
No one needs to know I was only inspired today.
I grab one of the pencils from their jar and start a rough sketch—a side profile of a man with a sharp jawline, the rail of a balcony, the skyline of a city. All will eventually be rendered in sunset reds and pinks and oranges and golds. But, for now, it’s a simple sketch to hold on to a memory of a night that just might mark a new beginning.
The start of a life where I’m understood and appreciated for who I am and what brings me passion. Where the rules are mine and mine alone.
Smiling, I step back to survey my work. It’s been half an hour since I began, and fatigue is finally beginning to claw at me. Deciding to call it a night, I glance at the profile once more, then wear a smile the entire time I get ready for bed and curl up under the blankets. Laying in the dark of my loft I listen to the sounds of the city, too tired to get up to close the window, but too on edge to fall asleep. Shane’s kisses awoke a fire in my belly that I can’t ignore. Desire is coiled tight, reminding me how long it’s been since I’ve had anyone touch me like that.
Actually, no one has ever touched me quite like that.
Like he’d devour me if I’d let him. I’m certain I would.
Remembering Shane’s hands on me, and imagining what might have happened if I had gotten my way, I scoot to the side of my bed and open my drawer, pulling out my favorite toy.