Chapter 1 Ian #2
“Yes, thank you.” I swallow. My thirst has more to do with her presence than a biological need.
She opens the mostly empty fridge. “Or I could make you something.”
“If it’s not too much.” I gesture toward the counter. “You seem passionate about this.”
“I have this crazy idea for a juice bar start-up. But… maybe I should become a financial planner, do something with the degree I’m getting.”
She sighs and I sweep my index and middle fingers under her chin and tip her face up. “Or you could do what you truly want to do. If that’s your dream, what you burn for, take the risk.”
“Are you a risk taker?” she rasps, the air shifting, charging with electricity.
“I am,” I gulp, trapped in her gravitational orbit.
“But what if you fail?”
I lower my face, my breath fanning her neck, and goose bumps pepper her sensitive skin. I whisper in her ear, “What if I don’t?”
She turns to the counter, chest rising and falling in rapid movement. Affecting her pumps my insides with satisfaction. She feels this pull too.
After peeling and slicing an apple and an orange into small pieces, she cuts a few slices of ginger and feeds everything through the juicer. She adds a bit of organic honey and pours the mixture into two small glasses. The sweet, spicy combination hits my taste buds, reinvigorating me.
“This stuff is incredible. Damn,” I say, licking my lips.
She claps her hands together, excitement shining in her green eyes. “I guess I found my first customer.”
“You certainly did.”
My phone vibrates again. I pluck it out of my pocket and type a quick reply.
“You must have other plans. I don’t want to—”
I cut her off. “You aren’t. I am exactly where I want to be.”
She eyes me from the side, hiding her smile. My eyes stick to her full lips. I want to trace my tongue along it, kiss her senseless, but I rein myself in.
“I’m Lilliana, but everyone calls me Lilly.”
“Ian.”
She stretches out her hand, and a current zaps through me. Warmth spreads through my fingers and goes straight to my chest. We keep shaking hands as if neither of us wants to break the contact. She giggles, taking her hand away, and I immediately miss the connection.
“So, what were your plans tonight?” she asks, busying herself with cleaning the counter.
“Visiting a friend. And yours?”
She shrugs. “Trying out some new recipes. My best friend is hanging out with her boyfriend, but I didn’t want to go out.”
Rearranging the fruit and vegetables a second time, she glances my way. “But you’re distracting, so that was it with trying new recipes.”
I chuckle and approach her, needing to get even closer to her. I lift my hand and trace her cheekbones—so delicate. She leans into my touch, sucking in a breath.
“You’re beautiful, but I’m sure you’ve heard that a lot.”
“I don’t mind hearing it a few more times.” She grins, a combination of sweet and sassy, cute but beautiful. She’s perfect.
“I bet you said that so you can kiss me,” she says, her gaze sliding to my mouth, lingering there for a few seconds that has heat buzzing under my skin.
I swallow hard. “It’s the truth, but I do want to kiss you.”
She tilts her head. “What is it about you that makes me reckless, Ian?”
I place my hands on her waist and dip my forehead to hers. “Would it matter if I told you I’ve never felt this before. I don’t even know what this is…”
“Crazy,” she murmurs. “That’s what this is.”
Somehow, we got nearer during our talk, her body pressing against mine. Mouths inching, our lips touch.
Glued together, we move to the rhythm of a sensual kiss, awakening the need for more. This girl is made of silk and sugar—tempting me for a bite and then I’m hooked.
Walking backward out of the kitchen, I bump into the coffee table. She giggles, but it’s quickly forgotten as we drop onto the couch that gives a little squeak. She ends up straddling me, a knee on each side of my thighs.
Peppering my lips with honied kisses, she says, “You smell so good. Do you have any flaws?”
“Plenty, but would knowing them keep you from kissing me?” I ask through another kiss, my hands moving down her back, fingers digging into her waist. Her mouth could become a vice, even though I could have sworn nothing could shake my discipline.
“I think nothing could keep me from kissing you.”
My heart gallops in my chest at her confession. A rush of sensations races through me, making me lightheaded.
“Perfect answer.”
My hands sneak lower, gripping her ass cheeks to pull her higher on my lap until our chests brush together. My palms splay on her lower back, holding her to me. Our eyes lock. Madness and oblivion blend, creating an intimacy I’ve never experienced before.
She looks divine, all flushed, eyes taking on a hungry hue for more I can offer her.
With her, I am Ian, the man, not Ian Weston, the college football superstar quarterback. It’s a heady feeling. One I didn’t know I needed to feel.
“Take me to the bedroom,” she breathes out, decimating my control to take things slow.
I stand, picking her up as I go. She squeals as I carry her to where she points. Inside the small bedroom, I place her on the twin bed.
“You want this?”
She cups my face, her fingers shaking. “So, so bad.”
Undressing, our bodies clash, joining in fiery passion.
I don’t know where she begins and I end. Sheathed in paradise, I forget everyone that came before her. I know nothing other than this woman and the need to pleasure her, make her irrevocably mine.
She’s exquisite.
All night long, our bodies give in to our desire, drowning in the other as we chase pleasure again and again. By the end of the night, we move like one as if we’ve spent an entire lifetime in one single moment, learning everything about what makes the other hot and needy.
I leave the next morning for practice with the promise to return after I kiss her again and again, incapable of bringing myself to stop.
But when I return, there is a note stuck on the frame. I can’t do this.
I still knock and a woman opens the door, informing me that the girls who rented the place for the weekend have left.
The magical night I thought we shared was nothing more than a one-night stand for her.
My phone rings, blaring through the memory and yanking me out of my thoughts. I’m undecided about whether I should be grateful or pissed.
Levi is calling me.
“I’m picking up Amelie from the airport. Wanna come over for dinner?”
Yep, my best friend went there. Levi is with my baby sister. He broke the bro code just like how he catches balls on the field, as if it’s his destiny.
“No… Maybe. I—” I groan, rubbing a hand down my face.
“What’s the matter? Stop bitching. I love your sister, and soon I’m going to ask her to marry me.”
“It’s not about you.” I exhale loudly. “I saw her.”
A thick pause follows, and his voice lowers. “The mystery girl?”
“Yeah, she moved into the apartment next to mine.”
“Fuck, man, that’s great news. Wait until Amelie hears that.”
Great news, my ass. I clear my throat. “I pretended I didn’t remember her.”
“Are you fucking insane?” he shouts. “You have been pining over this girl for years and now you pull this shit?”
“Apparently.” A sigh rocks my chest. “Talk to you later.”
I hang up. Maybe it’s the fatigue making me see things. I hope it is because the reality of her so close to me threatens to fuck me up even worse.
I can’t allow myself any distractions. And fuck if she isn’t the epitome of distractions.