16. I Need to Hear the Words
16
Foster
“How was your date?”
I can’t stop the slight growl edging the words, but thankfully, Hadley doesn’t seem to notice.
“How did you…?”
“Tessa told Riggs. Riggs told me,” I say, keeping my voice flat and even this time.
“It was fine,” she says, her expression shuttered as she climbs onto the bottom step and twists to the side in an attempt to go around me.
I lunge to my feet, blocking her way, and she huffs out an impatient breath. I don’t speak or move as we engage in a silent battle of wills fought with narrowed eyes and frowning lips.
“What do you want, Foster?” she asks with impatience when it becomes obvious I’m not backing down.
“Are you going to go out with him again?”
“That’s none of your business,” she grits out.
I know she’s right. It is none of my business. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m pissed. It’s irrational, I know. I’m the one who insisted we couldn’t take things further between us because of her innocence. I’m the one who accused her of using me, an insult I’ve yet to apologize for.
But none of that matters when every muscle in my body is locked with equal parts anger and anticipation as I wait for her to answer the fucking question.
“Just tell me.”
“I don’t see why it matters to you,” she says as she breaks eye contact with a delicate sniff. “You made your opinion of me quite clear the other night.”
With that, she moves to squeeze around me again, and this time, I let her. This whole fucked up situation is my fault. I panicked when her kiss affected me much more severely than it should have. I insulted her in some lame attempt to put distance between us, and I didn’t apologize before I left for Nebraska.
I let her fester in her anger, and she decided to move on from me.
Not that there was much to move on from, but still.
I follow her inside, closing the door softly behind me. I trail after her into the kitchen, watching silently as she pours a glass of water and sips from it. She’s so beautiful. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to survive watching her get close to another man.
She turns around to face me, and she must see something in my expression or body language because her face softens. Leaning back against the counter behind her, she sighs.
“No.”
“No, what?”
“I’m not going to see him again.”
“What happened? Did he do something?”
My tone is murderous, and she hears the threat laced through the words. She shakes her head vigorously and holds up her free hand to stop my train of thought.
“No, no. Nothing like that.” She huffs and scrunches up her face, and some of the tension drains out of me. She looks so fucking cute. “He talked about feet all night.”
My head rears back. “Feet? Does he have a fetish, or something? If he asked you to show him yours, so help me––”
Her tinkling laughter cuts off my tirade, and I feel my face heat, for once. Lifting a hand, I rub it across the back of my neck and offer her an embarrassed smile to soften my over-the-top protective behavior.
“He’s a podiatrist,” she explains. “I asked about his work to break the ice, then he proceeded to talk about nothing but feet and the many disgusting issues they can develop for the rest of the night.”
We share a smile, and for that brief moment, all is right in the world. The feeling quickly shatters, though, when her expression turns stern.
“Tell me why you care so much,” she says, the command in her voice making my blood quicken.
I release the back of my neck and drop my arm. “Because we’re friends. And as your friend, I feel…protective of you.”
Lies. Why am I lying to her? The truth is so simple. Two little words.
I’m jealous.
Or more specifically–– I want you for myself.
“Friends,” she breathes, that earlier fire draining out of her and causing her shoulders to visibly slump.
Taking a long sip from the water glass still clutched in her hand, she moves down the counter and pulls open a drawer. Reaching inside, she yanks out a piece of paper and holds it up. I see my own handwriting scratched across the surface. It’s the note I left her the morning after our disagreement.
“You said you wanted to talk to me,” she sighs like she’s accepting the inevitable and facing a conversation she has no desire to face.
“I want to apologize,” I say quietly.
Her eyes widen a bit, and she tilts her head to study me. “Apologize for what, exactly?”
“For what I said…about you using me. I didn’t believe it then, and I don’t believe it now. I’m sorry, Hadley.”
“If you don’t think that, then why did you say it?” she asks.
I take a deep breath before spitting out the truth. “I don’t know. That kiss had me all messed up in the head. I was torn between what I knew I should do and what I really wanted to do.”
Her chest heaves as she sucks in a few ragged breaths before asking, “What did you really want to do?”
My body moves of its own accord, her spell drawing me near. I couldn’t stop if I wanted to, and I definitely don’t want to stop. I leave a scant few inches between us as I take the glass from her hand and set it on the counter. I bracket her between my arms as I brace my hands against the counter on either side of her. She’s gasping for air now, the excitement in her eyes unmistakable as I lean closer and breathe her in.
“I wanted to kiss you properly. To take control and taste every sweet inch of your mouth until you begged for mercy.”
Her mouth falls open and she begins to pant, her gray eyes turning to molten silver as her tongue darts out to moisten her dry lips. My gaze drops to her mouth, and my cock stiffens with need.
“Do you want me to kiss you, Hadley?” I ask, watching as her tongue darts out to wet her lips a second time.
She nods quickly, and I tear my gaze away from those plump lips to meet her eyes.
“I need to hear the words,” I whisper, and her entire body quivers.
“Yes,” she breathes. “I want you to kiss me, Foster.”
Before my name fully passes her lips, I’m on her. I crowd her in, bending her backward over the counter as my mouth seals against hers. I feel more than hear her whimper of relief, and I swipe my tongue over the seam of her lips, a silent command for entrance. She complies instantly, parting her lips so I can finally taste her.
All rational thought flees at the first brush of my tongue against hers. She’s pure ambrosia, making my cock swell to full mast. My hips buck involuntarily, and she gasps into my mouth as my erection stabs at the soft flesh of her belly.
That sweet, surprised sound brings me back to my senses, and I soften the kiss to several tender nibbles before pulling back to meet her gaze. Her eyes are wide and glassy, her breaths harsh as she stares at me in wonder. I want nothing more than to dive back in, to drive her mad with my mouth as I taste every inch of her body.
But I refuse to do that. Not yet.
I’m going to do this right and give her what she so richly deserves.
Leaning in, I press a soft kiss to her cheek before pushing off the counter and putting some space between us. Hadley looks confused and more than a little disappointed, so I try to soften the electric tension between us with a warm smile.
“Good night, beautiful,” I say softly, reaching out to cup her cheek.
She smiles and nuzzles into the touch before I pull my hand away. She swallows visibly and nods.
“Good night, Foster.”
Then I turn around and leave the kitchen, heading for my room before I lose the tentative grip I have on my control and ravish her right there against the kitchen counter. She deserves more than that from me.
She deserves everything.