Ten Days of Perfect (November Blue #1)

“Sure, talk to you tomorrow.”

“Be careful,” she whispered as she gave me a goodbye hug. I nodded and shut the door behind them.

Bo gathered the wine glasses and walked them to the kitchen. I followed behind him.

“Thanks.” My hand brushed his when I reached for the dishtowel to dry the glasses.

He faced me and playfully grabbed my butt, pulling me to him for a quick, but passionate, kiss. I giggled like a fool and he laughed against my lips. Suddenly there was no giggling; we started to give in to the passion again. Bo spun me around and pressed my back against the refrigerator; my goosebumps punched the frigid stainless steel. He pinned both of my hands above my head as he leaned into me. Yes. His hips met mine, kneading in to me as his lips parted my own. The hurricane of passion that flew through his kiss rocked the boat holding my resolve.

“Shit,” I breathed into his open mouth.

He groaned in agreement. I nudged my wrists forward, and he released them. I searched the deep muscles in his back and shoulders with my tense, longing hands.

“Mmmm . . .” he hummed as I ran my hands up his back on the inside of his shirt. His skin was soft, but the heat nearly burned my hands. I couldn’t tell if that was real, or in my head; regardless, I wanted more of it on me.

I stepped forward, urging my back off of the fridge. Bo gracefully stepped back without leaving my lips for a second. I turned him toward the counter, backing him slowly into it. This was the hottest dance session I’d ever had. We moved together, to the same rhythm, which I was beginning to think was my heartbeat since that’s all I could hear.

Actually, I could hear music; the music we sang together, and the music he played. Another song sang along to the beat of my heart; I couldn’t place it, but I could feel it. My soul felt like it was singing to him, about him. Whatever it was, it took with it the last grain of my resolve, and I led him to the living room. We sat down in silence, but Bo stared so intensely in to my eyes that I thought I would melt right there. He tucked a hair behind my ear and left his hand there, redirecting the goosebumps down my neck.

Bo closed his eyes tight for a moment and reopened them at me, seeming to search for an answer to a question I hadn’t asked - at least out loud. He exhaled, “November. . .”

My only response was tug on his shirt - my eyes never leaving his - as I pulled him onto my reclined body. My long-gone resolve was swept under my ‘Welcome’ mat. The softness of his lips surprised me, given the sharpness of his jaw. But, the softer his kiss, the more I wanted. He let out a throaty approval as my hands slipped between us and found his yearning. I massaged the outside of his jeans, and as his pulse increased, mine followed. Swiftly he sat up, pulling me with him, and in one motion I was straddling him. His commanding hands held my hips in place as he grinded into me.

My pulse was frantic with need as I met his rhythm. I grasped one of his hands and guided it up the inside of my shirt, placing it on my breast. He worked me with firm hands that caused a faint whisper of ecstasy to flee my throat. He drew his hand greedily down my side and placed both palms on my back. The heat radiating from his long fingers was unreal. God, I want him. Our lips hadn’t left each other’s since we sat on the couch; it was as if they were making up for a lifetime’s worth of missed kisses.

I let out one low groan into his mouth, and the sound of my own voice startled my resolution into action from under the ‘Welcome’ mat. It dutifully hammered its way back through my veins and grounded the live wire whipping erratically inside me. If what I thought I was feeling for Bo was real, I couldn’t give it all away tonight.

I slowed my breathing and my motions, nervous for a moment that he would think I was a cock-tease; but my concerns about his opinion of me bowed to my opinion of myself. Bo didn’t resist; he relaxed his hands as I slid off his legs, but our mouths weren’t finished with each other.

Still kissing in this less provocative position, I felt a small smile cross his lips as he planted soft kisses on my lips, nose, and forehead. Stopped, with our foreheads touching, our breathing was too erratic to allow words. We sat, panting for a minute, before moving. He stretched his back against the couch, put his arm around my shoulders and kissed the top of my head before leading it to his shoulder. I responded with a kiss under his chin.

“Hey,” I looked up at him with apologetic eyes, “I. . .”

I began to apologize for putting on the breaks; my experience with men taught me that a move like that often warrants an apology of some sort - no matter how half-hearted.

“Don’t, November.” Tenderness glistened in his eyes as he combed his thumb down the side of my face. “This has been one of the best nights of my life.” I kissed his thumb when it met my lips.

Speechless, I laid my head back on his shoulder.