18. Mia #2
I tried to lean back and relax, but his arm was stretched behind my shoulders, and I couldn’t lean back all the way. This wasn't working as well as my leg piano. He seemed to figure that out too, because he let go of me—to my disappointment.
But then, a moment later, I bit back a yelp as his hands found my waist and he lifted me onto his lap. Before I could process that, his hands were back in place and he was strumming again, playing some kind of melody against my skin.
I held as still as I could. Guitars weren't supposed to writhe around on the musician's lap, but it was difficult not to.
His body—his muscles—were hard behind me. His skin was so warm. I loved the way the muscles in his forearm moved as he played.
It was like he was hugging me from behind, and I would let him play tune after tune if he’d keep doing that.
And he did.
When the fingers across my stomach slowed, I figured that was the end of a piece.
Then he made me laugh by reaching over and twisting his fingers near my palm. “You're out of tune,” he whispered, his lips right behind my ear.
“It's been a long time since I've been played,” I said.
It didn't make a ton of sense, but I was having fun. The problems of Sara—and Walter White, for that matter—were the furthest things from my mind.
He played one more song and then his hands stilled.
I fell into a bit of a trance, lulled by the feeling of his warm body behind me, his skilled fingers resting lightly on my stomach. Until he brushed closer to my side—and it tickled.
A laugh escaped me, and I immediately clamped my hand over my mouth. Cody stilled too. We both waited, expecting the others to turn around and see me on his lap, but the other students were either engrossed in the show or on their phones.
At long last, Cody whispered into my ear, “Guitars aren’t ticklish.”
He withdrew his hands, and for a moment, I thought he was going to lift me off his lap as easily as he’d lifted me onto it. Instead, he looped one arm lightly around my waist, as if he were a seatbelt.
A really muscled, hard-bodied seatbelt.
Heat seared from where I leaned against his chest, and if it weren’t for the show, I would’ve been content to sit there, pressed against him for a long while.
But the large screen was impossible to ignore. Not that I was supposed to be ignoring it, but now it was showing them working with chemicals. This was the part we were supposed to be paying attention to for class, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Not when they were making drugs.
I didn’t want this moment with Cody to be ruined by sad thoughts. And I really didn’t want to think about how much I missed Sara right now.
It occurred to me then that lately, I’d spent an awful lot of time not thinking about certain things. Like Sara in rehab. Like Diego at the party.
“You’re not paying attention to the episode,” he murmured.
“Says the guy who composes symphonies in chemistry class.”
I felt his chest rumble and figured that counted as a laugh.
“Not symphonies.”
“Then what do you write?” It was hard to maintain a quiet whisper, but it was also intimate, too. Like we were alone in the dark sharing a secret moment. Which, I supposed, we were. Except for the ‘alone’ part.
“You want to talk about that in the middle of a theater?” he whispered.
And the honest answer was yes, but this probably wasn’t the best place for a real conversation.
“Somewhere else, then. But I’d like to know.” Maybe he’d come to the coffee shop again.
“The music building,” he said softly. “I’ll take you there after class again sometime.” His arm tightened around my waist.
“I’d like that. Will I earn extra credit for that, too?”
“If you’re good.”
Whoa. I hadn’t expected him to whisper those three words in my ear. It sounded sexy with that slight edge to his voice. I still hadn’t figured out what kind of accent it was.
But it was hot.
I shifted on his lap, crossing one leg over the other, which pushed my ass further against him.
His breath caught—I could feel the pause in the way his chest rose and fell behind me. Then it went back to normal.
Suddenly, I didn’t want things to be normal. I leaned my head back, angling it toward his. His hair was shaved short over his ears, and I inhaled deeply. His scent somehow matched him. Mysterious but enticing.
I moved my lips to his ear and spoke as quietly as possible. “You’re a very good musician.”
“You’ve only heard me play once,” he whispered back.
Between the noise of the TV show and the softness of his voice, I couldn’t get a read on his tone.
“I know I like the way you play me.” Hopefully he knew what I meant. Slowly, I raised my hand and lightly cupped the other side of his face. My thumb slid along the stubble lining his jaw.
He was motionless, but he wasn’t tense, not like I’d seen him during Tuesday night dinners. It was more like he was waiting for something.
Maybe I was, too.
My thumb brushed across his jaw again… and up to his lips. That’s where I paused, just barely touching the corner of his mouth.
The next move was his. If he even wanted to. If he even knew what the next move was. He seemed so damn isolated that I wondered if?—
He pressed his lips against the tip of my thumb and kissed it.
And then instinct took over. Mine? His? Both of ours?
All I knew is that our heads came together at the same time. And that I was still cupping the side of his face when our lips met. For a moment, I stilled, enjoying the feeling of warmth. And of promise.
Then I shifted in his lap, turning toward him, and his hand sank into my hair, pulling me close.
His mouth was unhurried. And very, very thorough. I melted against him, wrapping an arm around him, holding on as if I’d never let go.
God, his lips. They moved over mine with deliberation—and purpose. The skill his hands had when playing an instrument—his mouth had that, too.
I moaned softly, pressing against him as the kiss deepened. His hand slid down my back, almost as it had when he was strumming me before. It came to a rest low on my back, just below my waist.
The way he held me… the way he kissed me… this was no longer about needing a distraction. It wasn’t about teasing him. It was more. It was a closeness I never thought I’d share with him. One I wasn’t sure he’d shared with anyone.
Pulling my head back, I saw his eyes open.
In the dark theater, I couldn’t discern the pale blue color, but he still managed to gaze at me as if he was looking right through me.
I tilted my head, leaning my forehead against his, and somehow, we were breathing in tandem as he held me. As I clutched at him.
This wasn’t like at the party with Diego. That had been desperate and out of control.
This was the opposite. Deliberate. Purposeful.
Our lips met again, and I tried and failed to stifle a moan. But it was absorbed by his kiss, his mouth on mine again.
His hand glided up and down my back, holding me against him, and my pulse quickened as heat and anticipation filled me.
Anticipation of what, I wasn’t quite sure. I just knew I wanted more.
Cody kept rubbing my back, his palm slipping lower each time. Until, with my eyes closed and my mouth open to his, his hands slid all the way down. My groan was harder to hold back when he cupped my ass and squeezed.
God, it felt good. I shifted toward him, pressing myself even closer… and realized that he was erect beneath his jeans. The warm bulge pushing against my hip made me moan even more.
Time stood still and everything else faded as we kissed. Then we pulled back, gazing at each other in the dark. Then kissed again.
Shivers cascaded across my body every time his talented fingers caressed a sensitive spot.
And then, after a long interval, he pulled back. He stared at me for one long moment, and then his hands were on my waist, depositing me back in my own seat.
Confused, I stared at him, while he watched the show, as if nothing had happened. Why had he stopped?
A second later, my question was answered. A change in the lighting finally pulled my attention back to the screen, where the credits had just appeared.
Oh.
That was why.
The lights went on, and I blinked, practically hissing like a cat. It was a very rude ending to the intimate moments we’d shared.
I gathered my things, closing the notebook I hadn’t written a single word in. Perching on the edge of my seat, I shrugged on my jacket and slung my bag over one shoulder. Cody still hadn’t moved, his eyes on the screen, as if the credits were the most important part.
They were certainly the only part he’d paid much attention to.
I waited, unsure if he was truly interested in learning who the costume designer or set director was.
Or if maybe he needed a little time to recover.
His face was as beautiful as always aside from a slight swelling of his lips.
But that wasn’t the body part that might’ve needed a little time to… settle down.
Finally, the screen went completely dark, and he stood. Most of the other students had gone, and I followed Cody out of the theater and into the night air.
It was cool, now that it was November. It made me long for my nice warm bed back at the house.
And for the nice warm man at my side.
We walked in a companionable silence. Several times, I felt the urge to take his hand, but I didn’t. What had happened in the theater had felt like magic to me, and I didn’t want to break the spell.
But when we were only a few doors down from the house, I couldn’t help it.
“That was… fun.” It took me a moment to find the right word. It had been fun, but also something more.
Cody nodded but didn’t say anything.
Which worried me, even though I knew how quiet he could be.
We turned on to the walk leading to the house, and I took a few rapid steps to get ahead of him. I stopped at the base of the stairs and looked up at him.
“Did you have a good time?” I asked directly.
He nodded. “Yes, I did.”
I couldn’t help smiling.
“It certainly made the episode more interesting.”
I stilled, my smile fading. “What do you mean?”
He looked confused by the change in my voice. “Well, I’d seen it before, so I thought I’d be bored.”
My pulse sped up, but not as it had when I’d been in his arms. “So, what we did… that was just a way to pass the time?” I was well aware that I’d sought his attention as a way to distract myself from the subject matter on the screen.
But that was where my mind had been when we started, not where it was by the time we finished.
“Mia?”
I took a step backward, my heel hitting a step. “I’m glad I helped cure your boredom.”
“I said I had fun.” He made it seem as if that should resolve everything.
“And hey, you got in some music practice, too.” I stumbled backward up one step then another. Then I turned and headed straight for the front door. I fished the key out of my jacket pocket and opened the door before I looked back.
Cody was still standing where he’d been, haloed in golden light from the porch.
He stared at me silently. Then he raised his hand to his chest, making a fist. He moved his hand over his chest, as if tracing a circle on it.
That was the last thing I saw before I went inside and up to my room.