November 17 #2
All she was doing now was pushing those supple tits even closer together.
Click. His eyes were drawn to the tight line between her breasts, travelling over her forearms to the hard line down her stomach.
Click. Moving lower to the V at her hips, like an arrow directing all his thoughts to one place.
Click. It didn’t help that at the curve of her hipbone was the tattoo she’d told him about, a small, delicate flower which looked a lot like a Jasmine.
Only half of it was exposed, the other half hidden beneath her low-cut panties and he was dying to see the rest of it. Click.
She looked around the room and cleared her throat as the awkward tension built in the room. Her lips pursed and she let out a weighted breath. “Just…um…just let me know when you’re ready to…I don’t know…give me some privacy…I guess.”
“Leaving right now.”
Yet still he stayed and still he stared, his dick straining harder against his jeans. Click. After a few more stilted moments and a few more clicks for the mental Jasmin Shrine, he felt like he was finally ready for that cold shower.
He slowly stepped away and walked into the bathroom, taking deep, slow breaths to calm himself.
That body—which in no way resembled a twelve-year old boy—had been beneath him last night.
If he knew then what he knew now, it was safe to say that they wouldn’t have spent the rest of the night watching movies. He didn’t need this.
Her Jasmin eyes and those perfect, succulent lips made her beautiful.
Her inexperience and insecurities made her vulnerable.
Her weird jokes and all her crazy made her likeable.
But that body…that body made her fuckable.
And once he stirred all that shit together, what he got was a gigantic bag of complications.
It wasn’t going to blow over in a few days.
But right now, he couldn’t think about that. His dick was taking strain. All he could think about was what he wanted to do to her. He wanted to taste every part of her, feel those luscious ass cheeks in the palm of his hand, hear her moan as he slid inside her.
He took in another deep breath. What he needed right now was twenty…maybe thirty minutes…to himself.
“Fuck you, Alfred!” he said, slamming the door shut.
* * * * *
Jasmin switched off the hairdryer, then twisted her long hair into a neat braid.
They were going hiking today, so she wasn’t going to leave it down, but she had decided to take heed of other words of wisdom Kevin had spoken yesterday.
She wore cargo pants, but today she coupled it with a tight-fitting tank top, one she usually wore under her T-shirts.
The V-neck wasn’t deep, though she still felt like it was too revealing.
It was also too short and too tight to cover her ostrich-sized backside and that made her feel even more self-conscious.
She just needed to get used to it. Kevin was right: she should feel comfortable in her own skin.
And after he’d seen her in nothing but her underwear this morning, any other attire was far less embarrassing.
Now she understood what he’d meant in Vegas.
There was no way she was ready to have a one-night stand.
Being naked in front of a person was…tough, especially when said person had the most penetrating gaze known to mankind.
She made a mental note to always change in the bathroom, even when she was alone, because she did not want to be under that type of scrutiny again. He just…stared at her, as if studying every flaw of her body. She knew she was oddly shaped and him gawking like that made her feel completely exposed.
When she first noticed him standing there, she’d thought she would drown in humiliation.
But the longer he stared—which was a really long time—the more intense his blue eyes became.
Watching him watch her had caused her to heat up, like a tiny volcano erupting in the pit of her stomach, the warmth of it extending right down to her thighs.
She hadn’t just felt exposed, she’d felt somewhat…
exhilarated. Yes, Kevin Shepard was doing strange things to her, inside and out.
She had just packed the hairdryer away when he came out of the bathroom. He was looking way too sexy for a hike and she tried to not get too distracted by his damp, disheveled hair and snug-fitting, grey T-shirt.
“Well, it’s about time,” she complained. “You probably used up a small dam. This has to be a new record. Forty-five minutes? No one takes that long in the shower. What the hell do you do in there?”
A wide grin split his face, one that looked almost…naughty, and it matched the playfulness in his eyes. “Guy stuff.”
“Oh, you’re one of those metrosexuals, huh?”
He laughed and, for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what was so funny. “Yeah, that’s it.” His eyes scanned her up and down again, focusing on her tight tank top. “That’s new.”
He wasn’t looking at her face, so it felt like he was talking to her cleavage.
“Oh…yeah,” she said, actively trying to hide her nervousness. “I-I thought I’d take your advice…and…and give the big T-shirts a break. Is it…is it a bit…better?”
“Not better. Same gift, different package.”
For a minute, neither of them said anything.
It was another staring contest, his eyes flicking between her mouth and her breasts.
The fact that she was wearing clothes now was irrelevant, because he seemed to be seeing right through them.
It wasn’t necessarily awkward, but definitely tense.
The way he looked at her made her want things she didn’t know a body could want.
It was a craving, the way a body craves food or water, she was craving to have him on top of her again, almost desperate to feel his lips on hers. Was that normal?
After their make-out session yesterday, her breasts just responded to him without any stimulation and heat pooled between her legs.
Her nipples did that funny thing again and she resisted the urge to cover them up.
That would make it so obvious. He must have still noticed it, though, because that naughty grin was on his face when his wandering eyes finally lifted to meet hers.
“We need to get the fuck out of this room, Jasmin.”
She only nodded because she didn’t trust her voice at that moment. She tugged on a thick, zip-up hoodie and walked out first.
They had breakfast with Lance and the other four people going up with them today.
Jasmin was grateful for the presence of other people.
The tension between them seemed to simmer.
He still glanced at her from across the table every now and then, but she found that if she pretended to listen to stories about Barry and Sheryl’s romantic second honeymoon in Arizona, it was much easier to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.
Her phone rang and her good mood instantly dissipated.
Flashing on the screen was her father’s number and she wasn’t sure if she should answer.
Maybe he’d received the credit card bills.
She hadn’t been modest with her spending and, frankly, she didn’t care how much trouble she would get into.
She excused herself from the table and found a quiet spot outside before she answered.
“Howzit, Dad,” she answered apprehensively.
“Hi, Bhajia.”
She half smiled at the nickname. It was interchangeable with chili bite because he always said she was just like the Indian treat—small with just enough spice to make her feisty. His jolly tone indicated that he hadn’t seen the statements, so why was he calling?
“How are you?” he asked.
“Fine.”
“What are you doing?”
“Sightseeing.” At least that wasn’t a lie. Her clipped responses hadn’t gone unnoticed, because she heard him sigh on the other end.
“I’m sorry I can’t be there with you.”
Obviously not sorry enough, otherwise he would have gone to Montana when he promised. “You’re busy. I understand.”
“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
Oh, more promises. She was too delighted to answer.
“Jasmintha, I know that since we moved here we haven’t spent much time together.” Try none at all. “And that’s my fault. This new hotel is a thorn in my side, but as soon as it’s up and running, things will change.”
Until the next project comes along, she wanted to say, but she held her tongue and listened to more excuses and promises.
It was difficult to determine which one she despised more.
And it didn’t matter if things changed after this.
He’d missed chunks of her childhood and that had worsened over the last three years. She simply didn’t need him anymore.
The other guests slowly began filing out and headed towards the bus. “Listen, Dad. I gotta go. I’m meeting some friends just now and I still need to do a few things before I go.”
“I’m so glad you’re making friends, Bhajia. Well, you have fun and…I love you. I love you very much.”
Those words were like nails on a chalkboard, painful for the brain to hear.
She didn’t say it back and hung up. She needed to pull herself together.
That call put her on edge. She appreciated the fact that he was trying to build a bridge over the gap between them, but she wanted him to acknowledge that he was the reason there was a gap in the first place.
He brushed off broken promises like they meant nothing and then he ends the conversation with I love you.
He hadn’t called in almost two weeks. Contrary to what he’d said, he didn’t care at all.
His actions spoke far louder than his words.
She needed a minute or two to regain some composure. Her throat was so tight it was hard to swallow and she wanted to get rid of that ugly feeling. She wouldn’t cry. She refused to cry.
She turned around and slammed straight into Kevin’s chest.
He grabbed her elbow to steady her. “You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah…it was…” She forced a smile. “It was just my dad checking in.”