She swallowed as she took in my words. “As more?”
I nodded and ran my finger under her chin, urging her closer over the center console. “As more,” I whispered, and then kissed her.
It was a closed-mouth kiss, slow and sensual, and on the side of the road in Bumfuck, Florida. My only worry was that she wouldn’t kiss me back.
But she did.
“I really missed you,” she murmured into my mouth.
“I’m here now,” I mumbled back. “Well, not here exactly, but nearby. We can discuss details later.”
Then I pulled her tighter for a deeper kiss. I nipped at her lower lip, and she opened for my tongue. Her breath came faster, and her soft moan zinged all the way to my cock.
Suddenly she pulled back. “Shit,” she said, pulling out her phone to check the time. “I’m late for work.”
“Can you take the night off? We still have more to discuss, like if you can live with me.”
“Blane, stop. Don’t push. I have to go to my job and figure this all out. You can’t swoop in and rescue me like I’m some damsel in distress.”
Our hands were still connected, and I ran my finger along her palm, tickling her.
“I have cheesecake,” I said, and that got me a big smile.
“Maybe. Let me see.”
Catie
I wanted to go all robo-feminist, but the bottom line was that I was already forty-five minutes late for my shift. And Blane had cheesecake. I wondered if it would be rude of me to ask what flavor, but then again, I didn’t really care.
Blane Steele loved me as more. Within seconds, I’d been reduced to nothing more than a girl smitten with a guy.
But who cares?
It was another step outside the mold I’d created for myself. I did it once with Sarina, and look what that had done for me. All my career dreams were coming true, and now Blane . . .
I banged on my phone, typing a quick text to my manager to let him know I’d be late.
Ralph replied right away that it already was all over Twitter, and he assumed I was never coming back.
“Oh God.”
“What?” Blane asked, a deliciously evil grin on his face.
“Apparently, we’re all over Twitter.”
His grin broadened as he whipped out his phone and touched the app icon with the blue bird on it. When his feed came up, it was filled with pictures and video of the two of us squaring off, facing each other down in the school parking lot.
Blane started to read some of the tweets out loud.
@GoGoFloridaTeams:
Rumor has it @BallerSteele just picked up “his lady” at a local Florida school - looks like he had a reason to trade here #justsayin
@SonnyB_KnocknBoots:
My man, @BallerSteele: Remember, I made it all happen
@Hafton101:
STFU @SonnyB_KnocknBoots—you almost ruined the whole season. Do your thing, @BallerSteele #Haftonalumniruletheworld
“Can you believe him? Can he let it go?”
I peered over Blane’s shoulder and tried to grab the phone from him. “Lemme see,” I demanded.
@BallBaby100:
What’s up with @BallerSteele—he was supposed to be mine? #allthegoodonesaretaken
“I’ve had enough,” I said, grabbing the phone and tossing it in the cup holder.
“What are we going to do now? I was basically told not to come into work on the assumption that I don’t need a minimum-wage job anymore.”
“How about we go get some food and take it back to my place?” Blane brought me in for another quick kiss full of promise.
“Where’s your place?”
“Not far.”
“What about your mom? Did you buy a place big enough for the both of you?”
“No, I bought a condo for my mom in a sweet building that allows dogs and has a pool, but I made her promise that she would move on and make a life. Then I bought a house big enough for the two of us. You and me, I mean.”
I punched his arm, trying to play it off. He couldn’t be serious. “Don’t be ridiculous; I can’t do that. I’m hungry, so let’s go.”
I couldn’t live with Blane.
Or can I?
Blane pulled out into traffic and I rummaged through my bag for my sunglasses. Not because of the brightness, but him. I was getting all puppy-love weepy, dealing with some emotion I’d never felt before sweeping through me. It fucking left me teary-eyed and emotionally spent.
“We can call out for pizza?” Blane suggested, glancing my way.
I nodded. “Sounds good. Or we could skip right to dessert,” I suggested, letting my inner hussy come out to play.
He smirked. “Nah. No rushing. I’m here; you’re here. I’m not going anywhere, and you don’t have any more secret projects. Right?”
“Of course not.”
“Great, then no rushing needed. I plan to take my time with my dessert, savoring each lick.”
I squeezed my knees together, desperately trying to stop the reaction his words evoked that was sure to ruin my panties. Savor each lick.