“When it comes to you, I know I’m missing pretty much everything,” he says, his voice low. “Which is a damn shame.”
The air in the car becomes charged with his admission. My entire body pulls taut like a wire stretched too tight. Air lodges in my throat and I wait for him to say something. Do something.
He remains still, as if he’s waiting for me to make the next move, and I realize our standoff is the perfect assessment of our entire relationship. This is what we do. We wait for the other person to make a move. And when it doesn’t happen?
We let it go. Until the next time we’re in this same predicament.
And we will be—in this predicament. It’s just what we do.
“This is a bad idea,” I whisper, not exactly sure what I’m referring to.
“You say that a lot.” He reaches out, his hand hanging between us for a moment. Should he, or shouldn’t he?
He goes with should, and that hand grazes my cheek, sliding into my hair on the left side of my head, his long fingers threading through the strands. I brace myself, scared I’ll melt into a puddle at his first touch but somehow, I remain upright. Only my breathing accelerates, my heart rate speeding up.
I blink up at him, unable to see anything else but Caleb and his blue eyes and his sensual mouth. That mouth promises all sorts of things. I wouldn’t mind feeling it all over my body. Between my legs. Oh yes. He would know just what to do…
He leans in, his mouth hovering above mine, and I mock gasp. “Are you going to actually kiss me?”
“No,” he murmurs, his lips brushing mine when he speaks. “I don’t kiss girls, remember?”
“This girl is going to kiss you,” I say in warning just as I shift forward, forcing our lips to connect.
A bolt rushes through me at first contact. Yep, that luscious mouth feels just as good as it looks. His lips are soft, and he purses them the slightest bit, breaking the kiss almost reluctantly as he slowly pulls away.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he whispers, his fingers curling into my hair.
I scowl at him. “Why the hell not?”
He doesn’t answer me with words.
Instead, he kisses me again, and he takes it deep. Deeper. I open for him without hesitation, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, making me edge closer, wanting to get near him. I tangle my tongue with his, the kiss turning dirty in an instant, because it’s Caleb. And it’s me. The two of us together.
I grip his shoulder with one hand, my fingers tugging on the soft fabric of his Mitchell’s T-shirt. I can feel the heat of his skin. The hard ridge of muscle beneath. I want to touch more. I want bare skin and mouths and hands everywhere and moans filling the car. I want to climb on top of him and see what he does next.
I have the distinct feeling that no matter what Caleb does to me in a situation like this, it would never, ever disappoint.
He breaks the kiss first. Again. Breathing heavily, his wide chest rising and falling in an accelerated rhythm that my own chest matches. I crack my eyes open to find him already watching me, his lips damp and swollen, his gaze roving over my face as if he’s actually seeing me for the first time. He pulls his hand out of my hair and I’m disappointed at the loss, which is silly.
Silly but true.
“What the fuck, Gracie?” he asks, his voice harsh.
I frown. He sounds… mad? “What?”
“We can’t kiss.”
“Oh, we definitely can,” I say with a snort, reaching for him again but he dodges away from me.
“No, we can’t. I can’t do this with you.” He opens the car door and climbs out in a hurry and I watch in disbelief as he walks away, his long legs taking him pretty far in a short amount of time. I remain in his car, unmoving, watching as he heads for our apartment, only for him to stop in the middle of the sidewalk, throwing his head back so he can stare up at the sky.
In the city we can’t see the stars. Where I grew up, I never really saw the stars ever. Up at Mitchell’s, on the lake, we see them every single night when we work late, and they are wondrous. The night sky is a mystery, just like this man is a mystery to me, and I wish I could figure him out.
I wonder if he wishes the same thing in regards to me.
Slowly he turns and heads back toward his car, me still sitting inside. He comes to the passenger side and opens the door, ducking his head so he can look into my eyes. “Let’s go, Gracie.”
I get out of the car, still wobbly, and he grabs hold of my arm, his grip gentle. Steadying. He locks the car and steers me toward the sidewalk that leads to our apartment, not saying a word. I walk beside him, my mouth still tingling from the sensation of his lips on mine.
It was a good kiss. A solid kiss. But nothing too outrageous. Truthfully? I’ve had sexier kisses. In fact, I can guarantee Caleb can do a better job than that. There was something about him just now that made me sense he was holding back.
Holding himself in.
Maybe it would always be that way with Caleb. He will never reveal his true self to me. There will always be something he’s hiding. Not like some big creepy secret. I don’t worry about that. More like he keeps certain pieces of himself private. Never to be glimpsed by someone unless they’re important to him.
Huh. Maybe I need to realize I’m just not that important to him. And it’s probably best if I leave well enough alone.
Seven
Caleb
Time has just flown by since the night of the kiss with Gracie. It’s 4th of July weekend and work is a madhouse. Besides renting out boats and jet skis, Mitchell’s Landing also has a bunch of cabins they rent out to tourists. Those cabins are booked usually all summer long, and during the 4th of July, they’re booked out a year in advance. It’s insane. All the locals and the tourists come out to the lake, and the road is packed with cars, the lakeshore crowded with people. Once the sun is fully down, there’s the fireworks show. It’s usually pretty awesome, but right now I’m distracted as fuck.
I can’t stop thinking about Gracie. Gracie who likes it best when a guy sucks her clit and finger fucks her at the same time. Gracie who made out with her best friend on a dare. Gracie who kissed me and tasted like lime and sweetness and sin. Gracie who stared at me while she was drunk and told me I was pretty.
She’s the one who’s pretty. She’s the one who I now envision kneeling before me, her mouth full of dick. My dick. And she’s loving every second of it as she sucks me off.
That particular fantasy has run through my brain on a constant loop since that night. We never did admit how many sexual partners we’ve had to each other, and maybe that’s for the best. She got too distracted by me saying I didn’t like kissing women, which I suppose is a pretty bold statement.
It’s not that I don’t like it—kissing is fucking awesome, ain’t gonna lie. But kissing is also dangerous. You smooch a woman a couple of times, and it’s so damn intimate. Next thing you know, they’re coming up with our future kids’ names and they’re telling me what to do. Who I can be friends with, and who I can’t hang out with anymore. They try to run my life and manage my schedule when all I did was fuck them a couple of times.
That’s why I avoid kissing at all costs. Even with Baylee at the end, I wouldn’t do it. I didn’t want to send her mixed signals. I sent her enough already, I didn’t need to muddle up what we were doing any more than I already had.