?
Kyle finishes his meal well before me, and that’s merely because he focused on eating. I think that was a calculated move to discourage any further personal conversation, and I respected that.
So instead, I thought about that kiss we’d had, and I wondered if it would happen again tonight.
Then I became obsessed about it as I ate a piece of pork, then a carrot.
Pork. Carrot. Pork. Carrot.
When I finish the last bite, I look up at Kyle and find his plate empty. He’s watching me across the table with his arms crossed over his chest. His chair is pushed back a bit, one leg cocked with his foot flat on the floor, the other one pushed out straight with heel to the floor, so he’s slouched a bit lazily. “Dinner was great. Thanks.”
And that totally sounds dismissive.
So I try to stall. “I’ll help you clean up the dishes. After that, maybe we can watch a movie or something.”
He’s shaking his head in the negative before I even finish my sentence. “Don’t have a TV.”
“You can come to my house,” I offer, and then I blush, because I remember what he thinks about a woman who invites a man inside. “You know… I mean, I’ve got a lot of DVDs and such.”
He’s still shaking his head. “I’m sort of beat. Going to call it an early night.”
And yep… that was a total brush-off because it’s barely six-thirty. I’ve been here a grand total of thirty minutes and he’s had his fill of me—and well, my food. My heart sinks as it’s clear he wants nothing more to do with me, and I’m thinking that kiss last night may have felt amazing only from my perspective. This embarrasses me greatly, giving me incentive to make a quick exit.
“Well, okay,” I say as I push up out of my chair. Kyle does the same and shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans, just staring at me. “I’ll… um… get the dishes from you later.”
I expect him to fight me on that. Perhaps insist I take them right now. But there’s still more food in them, and that would require me to stay a bit longer to pack it all up, so I’m not surprised when he nods in agreement.
This heartens me slightly as I realize, at the very least, I’ll see him again when he returns my stuff.
Unless he just leaves them on my porch, which causes my stomach to sink.
The tug-of-war this man plays on my emotions from second to second is disorienting to say the least.
I turn and head through the living room, Kyle’s boots thumping softly behind me on the wood flooring. When I reach the door, he reaches past me and opens it. My mind races with something to say.
Anything that will keep an opening between us as my pulse fires on all cylinders.
I’m surprised when he pushes open the screen door, his shoulder brushing against mine, and when I step onto his porch, he follows me out.
Looking over my shoulder, I give him a tentative smile. “Well, good night.”
“Good night, Jane,” he says softly, and that right there… it’s regret in his eyes. I see it clearly and it causes me to freeze in place. Is that an opening?
Should I press an advantage?
But before I can even think what that might look like, he says, “Thanks again for dinner,” and then turns back toward the screened door.
My shoulders sag at the cold brush-off and I turn away, telling myself with absolute certainty I need to give up on him. He’s just not interested.
I get no more than two steps toward the first porch step before Kyle’s hand clamps on my wrist and he’s spinning me back toward him. My mouth falls open in a gasp of surprise, only to be covered with his as he pulls me roughly to him.
He puts a hand to the back of my head, another at my hip where he squeezes once before pulling me flush against his body, and then he kisses me like I’ve never been kissed before.
Never, ever kissed like this before.
Certainly not like last night, which was gentle and exploratory, hesitancy a barrier. But this is a full-on assault on all of my senses. His mouth is urgent, rough, and demanding. His tongue immediately claims mine, and I give it up to him without a second thought.
My hands reach blindly to grip into his t-shirt, and then claw inward so I can hold him tightly so he can’t get away and I can’t fall down because my knees are so weak.
Almost as if he’s satisfied that I would never in a million years think to pull my mouth from his, his hand drops from my head to take my other hip and he presses me into him.
And I feel everything.
Every inch of his hard body.