Chapter Twelve • Book Stacks • Damien #3
She wets her lips with the tip of her tongue and my eyes trace the movement despite all my talk of being some respectable guy. “Have you considered that it’s not a great idea to put out on the first date?” she says, her voice a bit tremulous. “Gives people the wrong idea.”
“Are you...slut-shaming me? Again?” I ask her, cracking a smile.
She drops her head and laughs, and I feel like I’ve won the lottery. I love her laugh. It’s almost musical. Hushed, a little raspy. And her face just lights up with it. Fucking beautiful. She’s so fucking gorgeous.
“You should know that I can’t sleep with you tonight,” she says as her hands light on my chest, her fingertips finding the snap closure of my shirt and fiddling with it anxiously. “I’ve… been fighting off this UTI thing. I don’t want to make it worse.”
I shrug like it’s no skin off my nose. Do I want to fuck her? Abso-fucking-lutely. But I’m not about to blow it by throwing a fit. Besides, I meant it when I said I wasn’t trying to get a quick lay. I do want to take Lillith out again. There’ll be other opportunities to sleep with her.
“That’s fine,” I say. “What do you want to do? Want to just cuddle on the couch and watch a movie?”
“That actually sounds incredible,” she says. “But—well the TV is in my bedroom. Is that okay?”
“Listen, I’m fucking beat after my day, so that sounds fucking fantastic.”
“Alright,” she says, her smile softening and melting my fucking heart.
We go into her room and she cues up a movie while I work on clearing some of montana de plushie off her bed.
I stack them off to the side of the bed and look for the switch for the twinkle lights in her gauzy canopy before finding it and clicking them on and bathing the violets and greys of her room in a warm glow.
“Is Practical Magic too girly?” she asks. “It’s one of my comfort movies.”
“I’m fine with anything,” I tell her.
She selects the movie and starts it playing before coming back to the bed, looking at me as I stand on the opposite side.
I feel a little bit of a thrill as she leans on her hands over the bed.
It’s strange: I’ve gotten around with women, but this is the first time since high school I’ve felt nervous about getting into a girl’s bed.
It’s sort of exciting, that little flip in my stomach as I watch her.
“What is it?” she asks through a chuckle.
“I was just thinking that I feel like a teenager in a girl’s room,” I say.
“How old are you, anyway?”
“Twenty-seven,” I say. “You?”
She grimaces.
“What, am I too old for you?”
“No,” she groans. “I’m older than you.”
“No fucking way. You don’t look a day over twenty-three.”
“Try adding ten to that,” she says.
I shrug. “Well, you’re smokin’ hot, so who gives a fuck.”
“Really?” she says.
“Yeah,” I say. “Now get over here and cuddle me.”
She huffs and gets into her bed and I follow right after her. It’s a small bed, and I’m a little worried about taking up too much of it. But as soon as I settle in properly, Lillith enfolds herself against my side, resting her cheek on my chest.
I smile and watch her as she watches the opening shot of the movie. I brush my fingers through her hair and observe the gentle flicker of her long eyelashes. God she’s beautiful. And adorable. And perfect.
I wish I could say that I watch the movie, but I don’t. I spend the whole time watching her. When “ Coconut” plays on the screen she smiles to herself and wiggles her little body against me in a sort of little dance.
She hums along as “Always on My Mind” plays again and again throughout the movie. Finally, when the score crescendos, Lillith’s fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt.
I finally look up to the screen to see what she’s watching.
Sandra Bullock and the male lead are kissing passionately.
I gotta say, I respect the game. He’s got her pressed up against the wall and they can’t seem to touch each other enough.
Their hands are flying all over each other’s bodies.
For a movie from the 90’s the kiss is honestly pretty racy.
When I look down at Lillith again, her eyes are on me.
I smile as I hold her gaze. “Hey, sweetheart.”
“Hi,” she says, her voice adorably shy.
“What’s up? You need something?” I ask. “Want me to grab some water or a snack for you?”
She nibbles on her lower lip. I reach up to tuck a bit of her hair behind her ear, admiring her newly despite lying next to her for the last hour.
“I really want to kiss you again,” she finally says.
“Feeling inspired?” I ask, nodding at the TV and chuckling.
“Would you want to kiss me like that?” she asks.
“Sweetheart, I want to kiss you in whatever way you’ll let me.”
She smiles as she draws a line down the center of my chest. I take a tight breath. It’s amazing how such a benign touch can set my desire on fire. I can already feel my cock getting hard.
“I want you to kiss me the way that you want to kiss me,” she says, her voice low enough that it fries just a little bit, making my skin prickle with goosebumps.
“Well, that’s an easy problem to solve,” I say.
I wrap my arm tight around her and pull her on top of me. I card my fingers through the hair behind her ear, wrapping it around my fingers. With my other hand, I tilt her chin just so.
When our lips finally meet, it feels like home.