Chapter 18
Rockin' My World
Holy. Fuck.
His kisses rocked Amy’s world? She wanted to be wicked? With him?
Oh hells yeah! Sign me up.
Wait.
Shane needed to rein in his libido right fucking now, but he had no clue where to start.
This was Micky’s fault. The dickwad had twisted him up inside until Shane had wanted to uncoil and lay some serious hurt on the asshole. If not for that outrageous phone call, Shane might have better control over his corkscrewing emotions now.
Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, dumbass. You are in so fucking deep.
Sane Shane found his voice. “We’re both a little wound up. Maybe we should talk about this before we do something we’ll both regret.”
The disappointment in Amy’s eyes was like a dart burying itself in his chest. He was acting like a damn yo-yo, giving in to his desire then frantically reeling it back in, neither with any finesse.
She wriggled from his hold and put distance between them. “You’re confusing me, Shane. You kiss me like … like that”—she pointed an accusing finger at him—“then pull away and tell me we need to talk.”
He pushed out a frustrated breath. “I’m trying to do the right thing by you, Amy. We’re both caught up and not thinking through the consequences logically.”
“What’s there to think through? Unless you’ve already thought it through and decided you’ll have regrets.” Hurt replaced disappointment.
“Jesus, no! It’s nothing like that.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, partly to rearrange his wilting boner and partly to keep himself from reaching for her again.
“Amy, I’ve wanted you for so long it hurts.
I’ve thought about us together since the first time you set foot in Fall River.
” Oh, great. And now he was vomiting up his feelings.
Her dark eyes went wide, and her mouth swung open.
Oh yeah. His eloquence was definitely knocking her socks off. And that yo-yo effect? No wonder she was confused.
“The thing is, I’ve had a chance to think about it—about being with you—for a long time.
You haven’t. And you just broke up with a guy you’ve been with for years.
You’re rebounding. Me coming on to you right now is a real douche move on my part, and chances are if we were to follow through with what we started, you’d wake up in the morning wondering why the hell you let yourself get talked into it.
” Shit. Now he’d admitted his presumption that having sex was a foregone conclusion to the kissing.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like I was assuming it’s an automatic …
I mean, talking about waking up and all sort of implies … ”
Just shut up.
She crossed her arms over her chest, battening down the hatches over breasts that had been crushed against him only moments ago. He tried to lock out how lush and full and good they’d felt against him and how sorely he wanted to touch and taste.
God, he was fucked. Not in a good way either.
Her mouth twisted to the side. “I’m not sure we were in the same room.”
“Come again?”
“I don’t mean it literally. It’s an expression.
” She let out a defeated sigh, letting her arms swing free at her sides.
“I believe I was the one who came on to you, and not because I was confused or hurting or mentally impaired. Yes, less than twelve hours ago, I was living with Micky. Yes, I only officially broke it off with him this afternoon. Believe me, I understand that the optics don’t look good, but you say you’ve been thinking about us for years, and I think I’ve been …
” She cast her eyes down and to the side before leveling them with his again.
“I know how bad this sounds, but I’m not on a rebound.
I think I’ve been a tiny bit in love with you for a while now. ”
He physically rocked backward as a rush of emotions pummeled him, sending blood whooshing through his ears. Had he heard her right? “What was that?”
Her beautiful eyes gleamed like polished onyx in the dim light of his living room, and they locked onto his as she took one step and then another toward him.
“I didn’t realize how I felt until just now,” she said softly.
“I’ve let a misplaced sense of loyalty cloud my vision for a long time, and I’ve only recently begun to acknowledge what I want. ”
He stared at her, his mind buzzing to interpret her words, hesitant to accept their meaning because he was filtering them through his own hopeful lens. So many questions danced on his tongue, but he held onto them like guarded secrets, ready to swallow them down. Yeah, he was completely unhinged.
An explosion behind him on the TV startled him, and he spun and poked the power button. The screen went dark. Instinctively, he turned back to Amy and closed the gap between them, meeting her partway.
He jabbed a thumb against his chest. “Are you saying you want me?” Air suspended in his lungs.
She rolled her eyes to the ceiling, but a smile tugged the corners of her gorgeous mouth. “Yes, for Gaia’s sake!”
“Sorry. I’m a little thick.” And a whole lot of surprised. He deflected. “Who the heck is Gaia anyway?”
“She’s the ancient Greeks’ version of Mother Earth. I was raised Catholic and taught not to take the Lord’s name in vain,” she babbled, “so Gaia became my go-to for ‘God.’ Instead of saying ‘For God’s sake!’ I say—”
“For Gaia’s sake. Got it.” He raised his hand. “Also a Catholic.”
Her dark brows rode up her forehead and kissed her hairline. “Oh! How did I not know that?”
“Same reason I didn’t know you were. I’ve never seen you in church.”
“There isn’t a Catholic church in Fall River,” she pointed out.
“Fair, but Montrose has one.”
Her head tilted to the side, and her nose crinkled as if she was trying to puzzle him out. They stood less than two feet apart, but the awkwardness dividing them was as wide as his entire apartment.
He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Can we, uh, skip the religion and get back to the part where I was rocking your world and you were a tiny bit in love with me? Or did I annihilate the moment?”
Suddenly, she fizzed like a shaken bottle of pop and covered her mouth to hold back what sounded like a torrent of giggles trying to escape. Then she doubled over. Unsure whether this was a good or bad sign, he gave her a half-smile coupled with a confused frown.
Bringing herself upright, she flapped her hand. “I’m sorry,” she snort-laughed. “It’s not you, it’s me. You’re so cute, and I’m really bad at this.”
“Yeah, me too,” he chuffed, releasing some of his tension. Hope hitched one side of his mouth higher. Cute? Cute’s good. I think.
He didn’t have time to contemplate it further because somehow their bodies collided, and they became a jumble of limbs and mouths.
Jesus, her mouth! Warm and succulent and so fucking sweet.
A hint of citrus and champagne combined with something he’d only tasted in her kisses—it was her.
He sank into the kiss as he maneuvered them toward the couch.
She caught on quickly and helped guide them there.
He dropped onto the cushions and brought her with him, cradling her bottom so she straddled his lap.
Then his hands were on the loose, one tangling in hair he’d wanted to touch for as long as he could remember while the other one explored her back and shoulders.
Small-boned, she didn’t have much real estate for him to investigate, but God, did she fit him perfectly!
He dragged his mouth from hers, roaming it along her neck, her ear, inhaling the intoxicating lavender scent of her skin, noting which spots made her shiver or mewl. She began an exploration of her own, and his fine hairs rose everywhere her fingers landed. He wanted those hands on him everywhere.
She plastered herself against him and wriggled as if she couldn’t get close enough.
Her fingers tunneled through his hair, tugging, sending hot chills cascading down his spine.
The fire she’d ignited inside him roared, sending flames upward to lick the sky, and his cock swelled beneath her ass, transforming into a shaft of pure steel.
Taking her mouth once more with a demanding kiss, he snaked his hands under the hem of her sweater, inching upward on either side of her rib cage, giving her time to adjust in case she didn’t like where he was headed.
She didn’t stop him. He angled his thumbs and stroked her nipples through the thin silk of her bra.
A whimper rose in her throat, and it shot straight to his rock-hard dick.
“You like that?” he mouthed against her lips.
“Yes,” she hissed. “More.” She grinded against him, the friction making his cock pulse with need.
He pinched and tweaked and tugged, and she moaned into his mouth.
The kiss grew deeper, more intense, their mouths hot and frantic.
An urgent need to touch her everywhere overtook him.
He pulled away and lifted the sweater up and over her head, revealing a cream-colored bra that barely contained the fleshy softness cresting its cups.
The nipples he’d been stroking strained against the flimsy fabric.
Christ, he wanted his mouth on them!
She pulled his head back to hers and took command of the kiss.
As their tongues continued a desperate dance, he glided his hands up her arms, relishing her velvety skin, heading over her shoulders, to her back where he popped her bra hooks.
He slid the straps over her arms, tossed the garment somewhere toward the kitchen, and palmed her breasts. Her beaded nipples grazed his skin.
Fuck yeah. So soft. So plush. So perfect.