Never Tied Down (The Never Duet #2) (11 page)

   It made it all worth it when he seemed to mentally tuck the information away, turned toward me, wrapped his arm lightly around my shoulder, and said, “I’ll be sure to protect you.”

   The studio built an incredibly plush theatre, which was free and open to anyone who worked on the lot.  It was fancy.  That was really the only way it could be described.  The studio understood the people who made the movies didn’t always have time to see them, so they built a theatre to make the movies more accessible.  Also, sometimes the big Hollywood actors couldn’t just go to a movie theatre.  Not that I expected to see someone famous.  Usually the theatre was used by poor interns or other employees who couldn’t really
afford
to go to the movies in LA, as it was nearly as expensive as putting a down payment on a house.

   Plus, the popcorn was free and loaded with salt and butter.

   We found our seats, not too close to the front, and I started the process of getting comfortable.  The seats, which weren’t like the ones in a normal theatre, were like soft, fluffy love seats.  They were just big enough for two people to have enough space, but small enough that you were forced to share your personal space anyway.  I had no qualms making myself at home.  I stripped off my jacket, laying it over the arm of the seat, then took my shoes off.  Riot looked at me with one eyebrow raised.

   “Did you bring your favorite pajamas too?”

   He was mocking me.

   “They pretty much invite you to pretend you’re at home with these chairs.  I don’t want to be uncomfortable.  I want to lounge.  Especially if I’m going to watch a scary movie.”

   He held up both his hands in defense, but a smile was playing on his lips.  “Hey, I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of your comfort.  By all means, make yourself at home.”

   “I intend to,” I said, raising my chin in defiance.  He was laughing at me, but he stopped when I settled next to him, my hips touching his.  My feet were curled up under me to the side, forcing me to lean against him.  No, he wasn’t laughing any longer.  He was, however, smiling when he lifted his arm and coolly laid it behind me, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder.  I let my body lean farther into him, taking the space his arm had vacated.  I snuggled in a little closer and whispered, “Smooth.”

   I felt him laugh, but didn’t hear him.  I did see his smile hiding behind his hand as his fingers covered his mouth.  He was busted.  I just smiled though, and leaned in a little farther, dipping my hand to pull a few popcorn kernels out of our tub and toss them in my mouth.

   “Hey,” he said quietly.  I turned my head slightly to look up at him.  “Hit me.”  His mouth opened wide and stayed that way.  I laughed, but relented, placing a few kernels in his mouth.  He smiled as he started chewing.  The theatre was pretty empty, typical for a Wednesday night, but in that moment it felt like we were the only ones in the room.  I stared at his jaw as he chewed, watched his Adam’s apple dip when he swallowed, and couldn’t tear my eyes away from him for anything.  He made popcorn sexy.

   He gave me a sharp nod.  “One more hit, babe.”  My hands were on autopilot and I deposited a few more pieces of popcorn in his mouth.  He closed his lips around my finger before I had a chance to pull away.  I drew in a faltering breath as he took his time sucking the salt and butter from my finger, his eyes never leaving mine.  It was anything but innocent.  It was raw, carnal, and only brought on images of Riot sucking on other parts of my body.  Images I’d tried to bury for months, that hurt too much to think about for so long.  Now, however, those pictures flooded my mind and I not only welcomed them, my mind took them farther, put him and me in new and equally hot scenarios where his mouth was latched on to my body for a variety of reasons in a variety of places.

   He pulled his mouth to the end of my finger, his tongue flat and dragging along the bottom of it, and just before my finger fell away, he pressed a kiss to the very end of it.  It was, possibly, the most erotic thing I’d ever witnessed firsthand.  And we were in a movie theatre.  Surrounded by other people.  I let out a shuddering breath and felt the crimson blush heat up my cheeks.  He smiled at my obvious mortification, but pulled my shoulder closer to him.  My lungs tripped again when I felt his breath feather over the skin just below my ear.

   “You taste good,” he growled, so low it was almost a whisper.

   “It’s the butter from the popcorn,” I stupidly responded, my words rushing out with the only breath I’d been able to take in since he’d fucked my finger with his mouth.

   “I give credit where it’s due, baby.  You. Taste. Good.”

   He might as well have been talking directly to my vagina for all the clenching he was causing.  Riot and I had always done sexual tension well.  It had been built up over the phone and explosive anytime we were physically near each other.  It had been capped for so long, our desire for one another put on hold, forced into a proverbial darkness.  Now that we’d kind of lifted the ban, I was afraid the passion we’d always had for each other was going to sweep us away on a wave of lust and potentially bad decisions.

   All those thoughts didn’t stop me from melting into him when he pulled my shoulder closer to him.  It didn’t stop me from watching that horrifying movie, pressing my face into his chest when I wanted to scream.  And it didn’t stop me from loving the way it felt to let him hold me, his thumb absently rubbing up and down the side of my shoulder, causing goose bumps to spread all over.

   When the lights came up and I heard the people around us shuffling to gather their belongings and leave the theatre, I frowned into him, not wanting to leave the little bubble of warmth we’d created.  I was comfortable.  More than that, I’d not had one heavy thought for two solid hours as I leaned against him, watching that scary excuse for a film.

   His arm gave me a gentle squeeze and I knew it was time to get up.  I frowned again, but moved away from him, leaning down to grab my shoes.  We didn’t say anything as we stood, but he reached down and took my hand, linking our fingers, and leading the way.

   It had been so long since I held his hand; all the schoolgirl butterflies came back, flooding my belly.  Instinctively, my free hand wrapped around his arm, holding that sexy, strong part of him close to me.

   He walked me all the way to my car, taking my keys from me and opening my door.  I smiled at his familiar chivalrous ways, then turned to tell him thank you.  I was startled by his body pressing into mine, forcing me to back up into the side of my car.  His hands were suddenly resting on the curve of my hips, mine finding their natural resting place against his chest, and my face turning up to look at him.  My breathing sped up and my eyes searched his, hoping I’d see something in them that would give me answers to the questions spinning in my head with his body pressed so firmly against mine.

   “I miss you.”  His voice was low and raspy, as if he didn’t want anyone else in the world to hear his words except me.  “I like this, spending time with you, but I still feel like you’re an arm’s length away.”  His tender eyes moved back and forth as he took mine in.  Perhaps he was searching for answers too.  I wanted to give him everything I could.

   “I’m right here,” I replied, my voice just as low, just as full of emotion.  “I know you’ve been waiting, and we’re nearly there.  I just don’t want to fall back into something to have it blow up in my face.  I want to be sure.”

   His hands moved from my waist, traveling up my back, putting gentle pressure on me, pushing my chest into his, forcing my hands to wind around his neck.  We were so close; his nose was touching mine, our breaths intermingling.  I could feel the rapid thumping of his heart through the thin cotton of his t-shirt, the buckle of his belt pressing into my belly.  I was on my tiptoes, stretching, reaching, arching to him, trying to give him as much of me as I could in that moment.  His hands spread wide across my shoulder blades, hot and wild, pulling me in to him.

   And then his lips were on mine.  It was soft at first; hesitant.  Slow and fragile.  He kissed me as if he were afraid I was going to dissolve around him.  His plush lips brushed over mine and I couldn’t move.  I was frozen, hoping this wasn’t one of my many dreams where Riot held and kissed me through the night, only to wake up and find he wasn’t there.  I whimpered as his lips pressed against mine with just a fraction more pressure, then nearly collapsed when his tongue traced my bottom lip.

   I slowly opened, tentatively dipped my tongue out to meet his, and then we both cracked.

   We fractured.

   We exploded.

   Suddenly, kissing him was more important than breathing.  More important than living and seeing and
being
.  All that mattered was his mouth pressed against mine.

   Hands grasped at each other, trying to hold on to any part they could find purchase on.  My fingers ran through the soft, short hair at his nape, and one of my legs lifted to wrap around his hip.  He immediately wrapped one hand around the back of my knee, pulling our centers closer, and then, without warning, he slowly thrust against me.

   All I could feel, all I could process, was the ridiculously hard and delicious pressure of his denim-clad cock pressing against my center.  Slowly dragging up, causing every nerve in my body to shoot into overdrive, every synapse to fire, every sensory indicator to short circuit.  I pulled my mouth away to moan, unable to keep quiet, unable to pretend the contact hadn’t just totally incinerated me from the inside out.

   It had been months since my body had felt anything outside of despair and grief, so to suddenly be thrust into sexual overdrive, well, it was a lot to handle.  I couldn’t take in enough air, couldn’t hold my hands steady, as they were shaking with need.  My heart was thundering in my chest, racing toward oblivion.  And it all felt wonderful.

   Riot thrust against me one more time, my moan a little louder and a lot needier when his mouth moved down my throat, leaving kisses like breadcrumbs.

   “Riot,” I groaned, loving the way his lips trailed along my skin.  “Someone could see us out here.”

   “I don’t fucking care,” he said, his hand moving from the back of my knee up to grab my ass, pressing our centers together even more.  I let him.  I let him feast for just a moment more because I was in love with the way I was feeling just then.  I felt light, wanted, and free.  I felt as though I were floating above us, as if I were watching someone else because, certainly, this was not me.  I didn’t live a life where I pushed a man away and he understood why.  Where I yelled and screamed at him, blamed him for something so terrible, and he waited patiently, knowing I’d loved him all along.  This had to be someone else’s life.

   So I let him kiss every part of my skin available to him in that parking lot, let his hands roam over my clothed body, and I loved every single second of it.

   Just as I knew he would, he finally came back from the momentary lust-induced insanity, dropped my leg, and simply returned to sweet kisses laid softly on my mouth.

   “Fuck, I missed you, Kal.”

   The way he said my name, the way his thumb moved over my bottom lip, the heavy way he held me as he said those words, it all swirled around me and I melted into him a little bit more.

   “I missed you too.”

   “Have I got you back now?  Is this for real?  I want this.  I want us.”

   His words went from sweet and meaningful to rushed and a little scared, and I knew it was because he was afraid I would push him away again.

   I stared up at him, looking into his eyes, trying to see past the hurt lingering there, past the nearly feral man who just practically took me up against my car in a parking lot, and I looked for the man I fell in love with so many months ago.  The man who was gentle and caring, who handled me with exactly the right amount of tenderness, but took charge when I needed that from him.  He was still there; I could feel him.  And I had to believe if the Riot I fell in love with was still there, waiting for me, then the Kalli he fell in love with had to be somewhere inside me as well.

   I fell against him, leaning my forehead into his chest.  “I want this too.”  I took in a deep breath then exhaled, looking up at him.  “I want us.  I want you.  But…” I felt my bottom lip become trapped between my teeth.  “I don’t think I can handle losing you again.”

   “Hey,” he said, his hands coming to frame my face.  “You never lost me.  I know I disappeared, but you didn’t lose me.  You understand that, right?  I would never abandon you.  Not ever.  I did what I thought was best for you, but I didn’t want to leave you, Kalli.  Not then, not now. Never.”

   “I know,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around his neck, letting him hold me.  A part of me died to hear the desperation in his voice, the sadness in his words.  I’d done that to him.  I’d been the one to make him leave, and even though it hurt him, he did it.  For me.  He was so
good
.  “I just need you to be patient with me.”

   “There’s no rush here.  I promise.  Even though I basically just pushed you up against your car and felt you up, I promise it won’t happen again.”  He stepped back, making me want to pull him to me again, but I let him go, watching as he ran the back of his hand over the stubble at his jaw.

   Damn.

   “Then,” I said with a smile, nearly drunk on happiness, “I’m all yours.”

   His sexy smile spread quickly over his face, his dark eyes sparkling in the overhead lights of the parking lot, and in just one second I was back in his arms.  He picked me up and spun me around playfully, my laugh ringing out.  I sounded happy.  I was happy.  It was some sort of miracle.

   When he finally placed me back on the ground, he kissed me again, but this time it was sweet and innocent.  Just happy lips pressed against happy lips.  He was still smiling when he pulled away.

   “I knew you’d come back to me.”

   I kept looking in his eyes as he tucked a lock of wayward hair behind my ear, marveling at how wonderful a man he was.