Chapter 5
Five
Her lips were soft and damp. They clung to his in a gentle, almost innocent kiss. A kiss that reminded him of those he’d experienced when he was thirteen and unsure of how to lay one on a girl.
It was sweet—she was sweet. Her lips tasted of salt and butter with a hint of chocolate. He broke the kiss, blew a soft breath across her mouth before he touched it again. He parted his lips, as did she, but no tongue played interference—not yet. He didn’t want to scare her.
He knew it was probably wrong, kissing her. Going against what she’d said only an hour or so before. Friends didn’t kiss—especially not like this.
But he couldn’t help it.
Chris approached her much as he would approach an injured animal or a scared child. Tentative, gentle, and so very careful. He didn’t want to go too fast, and she responded to his tactics. Jane tilted her head, angled her chin toward him, and opened her mouth just a bit wider.
“You taste sweet,” he whispered against her lips, before he decided to make a bold move. He swiped his tongue first at one corner of her mouth, then at the other. Her swift intake of breath told him she liked it.
It was time to take it further.
He slid his hand across her cheek, felt the scars there that ran along her hairline. They were puckered, soft and raised. All of a sudden, she jerked away from him, breaking the kiss. Opening his eyes, their gazes met, their heavy breathing in tandem.
“Sorry.” Shit, he blew it. He should’ve never touched her there. She was sensitive about her scars.
“It’s…it’s okay.” Jane shook her head, offered him a trembling smile. “I can’t remember the last time I kissed someone in a movie theater.”
“Want to do it some more?” He raised his brows. It was a joke…but not really.
“Um…”
“What’s the matter, Jane? Scared we’re going to get caught?” He meant it as a dare. Wanted to see if she’d take him up on it.
“Who’s in here to catch us?” she finally said, her lips curved in the barest of smiles.
He acted without thought, her words spurring him on. Curving his fingers into her hair, the wavy softness curled around his fingers and he cupped the back of her head, tilting her to his mouth so he could kiss her again, deepening it in seconds.
Jane opened to him, curving her body more fully toward his, and he blindly reached for the soda, shoving it into the drink holder to his right to get it out of the way. With jerky movements, he lifted the arm rest, shoved it up, and she shifted even closer, her knees bumping against his.
Reminding him that she wore a skirt. He could easily slide a hand up beneath the denim and touch her warm, tight-covered thigh.
Yeah, he couldn’t go that far, though. Not yet, especially not in a movie theater. He wasn’t a teenager trying to cop a feel.
Yet he felt like one, making out with a pretty girl in his arms, trying to get to second base at the movies.
He’d done something similar with his first serious girlfriend in high school.
Eager to crush his mouth onto hers, put his hands all over her body, he’d tried anything and everything to get them alone.
He felt much the same with Jane now. Eager and fumbling and unsure of what she might want from him. Not wanting to push her too far for fear of scaring her off.
Damn. He needed to quit thinking and start kissing. Now.
So he settled his mouth on hers, touching the tip of his tongue to her barely parted lips. Her tongue darted out to meet his and he wanted to groan in triumph, crush her against him, and feel her soft curves mold to his body.
But he didn’t. He kept his hand in her hair, clutched the back of her head, and held her mouth to his.
The kiss went deep, then deeper, and he wished they were somewhere else, somewhere private, so he could hold her even closer, comfort her with soft words, ease her into this with subtle persuasion.
It was safer for her that they were in the theater. He couldn’t make any too-fast moves, couldn’t screw it up too badly.
Chris focused on the lush taste of her mouth, the sweet rasp of her tongue. Her hands had found their way to the front of his shirt and she held onto the fabric, balling it in her fists, wrinkling his shirt front.
“I could kiss you all night,” he murmured minutes, hours later as he leaned his forehead against hers.
She cleared her throat and giggled. “I think you have. The movie’s over.”
“It is?” He glanced up, looked at the screen to see the credits rolling and music blaring, a definite signal the movie was long done. “You’re right.”
The lights brightened at that exact moment, and Jane shifted away from him, guilt darkening her pretty green eyes.
Her mouth was swollen and red from his kisses, her hair a mess from his hands.
He smoothed down the front of his shirt, the fabric lumpy from her frantic fingers, and suddenly he was at a loss of what to say.
“We should go,” she suggested, her voice soft, her eyes downcast as she picked up her purse from the empty chair next to her. He stood, grabbing his jacket.
“Jane, are you all right about what—happened?” he asked.
But any remaining words stuck in his throat.
He certainly wasn’t upset over what just happened, but he wondered if she might be.
He knew how she felt, yet he wanted more—which conflicted with everything he’d ever done with women throughout his adult life.
Women who wanted more scared him. He always left before they could leave him first—it was easier that way.
For once, with Jane, he didn’t want to leave. The attraction between them was undeniable, despite what she said. He wanted to explore it further.
Would she let him?
“I’m fine.” She shook her head and looked up at him. “It was nice.”
There was that word again. Nice.
Chris didn’t want to be the nice guy. He wanted to be the hot guy she couldn’t resist, the man she was desperate to spend more time with.
She confused him. But he had a feeling he did the same to her.
“Nice,” he muttered, feeling like an ass.
She saw his disappointment, he could tell. “Well, it was more than nice.”
“I’ll say.” He couldn’t resist behaving like a macho jerk.
Grabbing her by the hand, he hauled her close, brought her right up against him so he could lay one on her pursed lips.
The kiss was firm, even a little rough, his tongue doing such a thorough search of her mouth he heard her give a little whimper.
And when he released her, she wobbled on her feet, even had to reach out and grab his arm to steady herself.
Yeah, he was real nice, all right.
Jane had never been kissed so thoroughly before in her life.
She stood in front of the entrance to the movie theater, waiting for Chris to bring the car around and pick her up. When they’d left the building, she’d been startled at the chill in the air, immediately wishing she’d brought a coat.
Chris had solved that problem by offering her his jacket, still warm from his body. It enveloped her, hung from her shoulders practically down to her knees, and she hugged it close, breathed deep his scent that lingered there.
Her lips still tingled from his ardent kisses. She pressed her fingers to them, surprised that they felt fuller, swollen even. She skimmed her fingertips along her cheeks, noticed they felt scratched by the faint stubble that covered his jaw.
She felt…alive. The blood sang in her veins, whirled and pumped through her body as if on a wild waterslide ride, and she shivered. Not from the cold, either.
No, more like from her intense reaction to Christian Nelson.
He’d seemed almost angry when she called their kissing nice.
It had been a bad choice of words. She knew it the second the word flew out of her mouth.
And his reaction had only proven it. That last kiss he’d given her, it had been as if he was trying to prove something.
Like he wasn’t as nice as she thought he might be.
And oh boy, the kiss had been a doozy. Left her weak in the knees and mind, unable to make out the words he’d spoken to her as they’d left the theater.
Who knew a kiss could leave you weak and incoherent? She’d never experienced anything like it.
She wanted to experience it again.
Despite her earlier speech, despite the fact that she was worried about her children, she was tempted.
She knew she should put her children, her family first, as she’d been doing since she got out of the hospital.
Working so feverishly to attend to their needs, she’d forgot all about herself in the process.
She’d never felt as alive as she had when she’d been in Chris’s arms, his mouth on hers. Until he’d touched her face, her scars. That had freaked her out, almost caused her to ruin the moment. She needed to realize the scars were a permanent part of her.
But it was so hard.
“Jane? Is that you?”
Jane whirled around to see a woman around her age standing before her, a black down coat engulfing her body. Jane squinted as she studied the woman’s face, which was familiar. But the name wasn’t coming to her.
“Jane, that is you. It’s me, Audrey Daniels! How are you?”
Audrey wrapped her arms around Jane and hugged her tightly, and Jane had no choice but to hug her back.
She remembered Audrey dimly from school—she’d been two years ahead of Jane and hadn’t paid much attention to her, really more a part of Mindy’s crowd.
Jane had always been just the pesky little sister.
“I’m good,” Jane finally said once Audrey released her. “How are you?”
“Oh, you know. Life’s okay. I’m in the middle of a divorce.” Audrey scrunched up her face. “I’ve had some custody trouble with the ex, but we’re going back to court next month, so we’ll work it out, I’m sure.”
That’s right. Jane forgot how big a gossip Audrey was. And how she had no problem airing her own dirty laundry, either.
“I’m sorry about that. It must be tough,” Jane said politely.