“Yes.” My voice is no better than his. His hand spasms where it rests on my flat stomach on top of my shirt.
He pulls away and sits up with a sigh. I follow suit and look at his face where the trace of sleep is slowly disappearing. He runs a hand through his goatee and stubble on his face. One side of his hair is flat, giving him a boyish look that makes me smile.
“Don’t laugh at me. Your hair is no better,” he says ruefully, tugging at some strands, his long, strong fingers vanishing through his thick black hair.
I scrunch up my nose and glare. “Always the gentleman,” I mumble before trying to discipline it without any success other than hurting my scalp.
“Your wild hair is kind of cute and a little hot. Is that better?” he says with a laugh, his dark brown eyes falling briefly on my lips before locking back on my attentive gaze.
I feel my cheeks burning shamelessly. The sun is barely up in the sky; I’m just waking up and I’m already blushing like a school girl with a crush. There’s something very wrong with me.
“That’s my cue to leave,” I say, shaking my head and standing up, avoiding Duke’s body by leaving his bed from the bottom.
“You can stay.” He stands up and puts a hand on my forearm, careful to not squeeze me so as not to frighten me with any forceful move.
Suddenly, I’m having a hard time looking up at him. My eyes stay focused on his necklace, the one that seems to haunt me more and more as questions pop into my mind without any answers. And I don’t dare ask them, afraid of pushing him too far too soon and instigating another round of arguments that we’re getting so accustomed to.
“I have a class in a couple of hours.” My voice is quiet, almost sounding shy in my ears.
He reduces the space between us, but keeps some distance. “Is that the only reason?”
Why does he have to sound so hot with his deep voice and innuendos? Most of the time I don’t know what he’s playing at and right now I’m afraid to know exactly what his game is. I glance up and my breath staggers at the look on his face. It’s the same one from the other day at his parents’ place just before the near kiss.
“Don’t do this, Duke,” I whisper, my eyes pleading. I don’t try to pull away, though. I can’t escape his heat, his attraction. I don’t want to, but fear is rising at full force within me, making me dizzy.
He doesn’t listen to me. He closes the gap between us, his bare toes touching my purple Converses. His chest brushes slightly against my breasts and I think I’m going to faint if I don’t breathe now. I take a deep breath and the assault of the smell of old tobacco and clean clothes coming from him does me in. I press my body even closer to his, bringing my hips against the top of his thighs, his knees bumping into my legs and I shiver.
His breath hisses between his teeth. The hand on my forearm opens and glides up my arm against the soft fabric of my sweater and stops to cup my cheek. He’s shaking.
He bites on his lower lip, his white teeth briefly catching the light of the sun before he releases the flesh. His other hand goes to my hip, feeling wonderful there. I’m craving the feel of his hand moving from my hip to the small of my back but he doesn’t move.
“Please, Skye.” His voice is broken, defeated almost.
I bring both hands to his broad and strong shoulders. His muscles jump under my uncertain touch. I keep one hand there for support, too dizzy to have confidence in my wobbly legs, and bring the other on to his neck, playing hesitantly with the hair curling slightly at the nape and over his ears.
He closes his eyes and opens them back again, and the intensity in them draws me to him. He tilts his head on one side and looks at my lips before bringing his head down, giving me some time to pull away or say something to stop him. But I’m too far gone for that. Way too far.
I tilt my chin up, close my eyes, and wait for him to cross the rest of the way. Tentatively, almost shockingly soft, his lips brush against mine. I don’t have enough time to register the contact or the feel of his facial hair on my face.
I open my eyes, afraid I did something wrong and craving to explore the feel of his well-defined lips on mine, to taste him. His hooded eyes meet mine. My hands on his shoulder and behind his neck claw at him for a second.
He doesn’t wait any longer and comes back to my mouth. This time he doesn’t retreat. His wonderful lips brush against mine thoroughly, playing with my lower lip before entertaining my upper one. It’s almost an innocent kiss, but it leaves my imagination running wild.
When I think he’s about to end this kiss, he bites lightly on my lower lip and groans. He tightens his arms around me, one arm sneaking around my lower back and his hand dipping in my untamed hair.
I tug once on his hair and open my mouth, wanting more, always more of him and his taste and his attention. As soon as my lips part, his dexterous tongue brushes against mine and I whimper, ecstatic and completely lost in the sensation building low in my belly.
He kisses me like there’s no tomorrow, like it’s our one and only kiss. He kisses me like I have never been kissed before, almost making love with his mouth against mine. It’s consuming me.
When I think I’m about to faint from lack of oxygen, he pulls away and lets his arms fall against his body. I step away and break the last contact between us. Our eyes don’t leave each other, waiting for the other to break the heavy silence.
But what is there to say? His lips are pink and slightly swollen from our kiss, his eyes darker than usual; his breathing is loud like mine in the quiet room. How to break such an atmosphere where the sexual tension is at its peak?
“I have to go.” Of course I know what to say to ruin everything, thanks to my fear and doubts plaguing me again. I look around for my backpack and find it next to the door.
“Skye ...” His voice sounds husky and pure sex, which doesn’t help me at all to regain my composure.
“I’m not running away, believe me. I just need some time and space to think about this clearly,” I cut him off, adjusting my bag on my shoulder without looking back at him.
“So when will you be ready to talk?”
I stop with my hand on the door knob, my back to him. “Let’s have a drink tonight. Text me where to meet you.” I open the door and gaze at him. He’s still in the same place, but his arms are crossed over his chest and he’s frowning. Desire has deserted him. “And don’t worry … thanks to Kate, I have a fake ID.”
He nods but doesn’t say a word. He’s shutting me out and I can’t blame him. Payback is a bitch, or so they say. I guess it’s my turn to experience it.
Chapter Thirteen
I’m in a daze. I’m not even sure I took any notes in my classes today. My mind is miles away. I spent almost two hours brushing my finger over my tingling lips. I’m pretty sure I’ve blushed the whole time, too.
I haven’t seen Kate, but have received several texts from her making sure I’m okay after my run-in with Sean. Whenever I think about my encounter with him my breathing hitches, but it’s not what’s keeping me so distracted at the moment. Duke’s kiss has turned my world upside down and is distracting me sufficiently from Sean.
“Eight dollars and fifty cents,” the taxi driver grumbles with barely a look back.
I open my wallet and give him a ten dollar bill, leaving the taxi without waiting for the change or even thanks. The taxi smelt bad, like old puke or something equally as disgusting. I inhale the fresh air and take in Seattle by night. It’s beautiful with the water reflecting the lights.
I spot the pub Duke texted me about this afternoon. Several people are mingling on the sidewalk outside, gazing at the water, laughing and smoking. Some people seem a little drunk already, or they are overly happy, which is something I can’t fathom yet.
I smile to myself and walk into the bar, surprised nobody carded me at the door. I feel my heart miss a beat when Duke’s shaggy hair catches my attention. He’s not sitting close to the huge windows where I spot several free tables. He’s sitting far in the back of the bar, his back to the wall where several old beer ads are displayed. He’s nursing a pint of beer, his eyes mesmerized by the amber color.
I freeze near the door. Until now I was able to tell myself that it was nothing because it’s just a kiss after all, right? But now that I’m here in this crowded bar and Duke is here waiting for me ... Nothing seems that easy.
I dry my clammy hands on my dark blue jeans and tug on the hem of the blue sweater I’m wearing. Suddenly, I hate my oversized tops. Someone bumps into me and I glare at the guy, obviously tipsy. My heart is in a frenzy. I hate it when someone touches me, and it’s much worse when it takes me by surprise.
I shake my head and walk toward Duke. He’s still oblivious of my presence. His long fingers are playing with his glass and the other hand is supporting his head over the table. He doesn’t look at ease. He’s preoccupied and I’m not sure this is going to be an easy talk. I don’t even know what I should say or what I want to say. I’m in unknown territory.
I clear my throat and sit on the chair in front of him. Startled, he sits straighter and gives me a little smile. I nod in return but don’t say anything. It’s like my lips are suddenly glued together.
“If this place freaks you out ...”
“No, no! It’s fine,” I reply a little too quickly. I laugh nervously and sit forward in my chair. I’m being ridiculous. No, we’re being ridiculous. I roll my eyes. “We’re being awkward.”
He nods and takes a sip of his beer. I focus on his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down when he swallows and I’m suddenly a little light-headed. I haven’t even had a drink yet. “I guess I’m waiting for you to bolt.” His deep voice sounds gloomy, almost defeated.
I frown. Is this really what he thinks of me? Running away never crossed my mind since this morning. Not once. I level my eyes down and study the sticky surface of the table. “We need to talk and I’m here to talk. Believe me, I really want to straighten things out.” The hurt in my voice is audible but I’m not sure he heard it over the loud music, which doesn’t make a conversation easy.
“So are you ready to talk about the kiss this morning? Are you ready to tell me what you felt?” He’s challenging me. I see it in his dark eyes, in the tension around his well-defined lips and in the arch of one of his dark thick eyebrows.
I stare him straight in the eyes with an unfamiliar boldness. I feel hot everywhere and it’s not only from desire. It’s also anger. “That’s easy. I wanted you. I wanted you to touch me and I wanted you to kiss me.”
He chokes on a sip of his beer and his eyes widen. I guess I was a little too direct. I clear my throat, suddenly bothered by a lump. I’m glad the lights in the bar are dim or else he’d be able to see the deep blush I’m sporting. My boldness never lasts.
His hands are shaking slightly on the table. He gazes a second at my lips, making me shiver, before focusing again on my eyes. He’s shocked and I have to say, I am, too. I don’t know where this boldness came from.
“Okay. I guess I wasn’t expecting you to be so ...”
“Blunt?”
He nods. “Yes.” He tugs at his hair and runs his hand over his goatee. Too bad his sleeves aren’t rolled up. I really want to see those tattoos right now. “So?”
I put my elbows on the table and put my head on my hands, never looking away from his eyes. “It’s your turn to tell me what you felt.”
He smiles and laughs lightly. Apparently he finds me funny, or I am missing something. “I’m the one who kissed you, Skye. I touched you first, so I guess that’s enough of an answer.”
I nod, glancing away from him to the commotion at the bar. Several guys are laughing loudly and drinking shots. They must be celebrating something. I turn back to Duke and sigh. “And what should we discuss now?”
He leans toward me and I can smell the beer on his breath, finding it strangely enticing. I’m really done for. “Do you want to kiss me again?”
Considering that my lips are already tingling now that he’s closer to my face, I think I do. Moreover, his kiss is imprinted in my head and the memory is enough to make me want to succumb. Unfortunately, he’s so used to having girls stripping for him with just one of his dazzling smiles that I don’t know why he wants to waste his time with me knowing I’m not going to put out tonight, or tomorrow for that matter.
“Do you?” I counter, fidgeting on my chair and fiddling with my left sleeve.
He bites hard on his lower lip and I think I’m melting. “What do you think?” His husky voice gives him away and I’m getting dizzy.
I also discover I’m able to flirt. It’s flirting on a high school level, but it’s more than I thought I was capable of. “I think the kiss this morning worked well for us.”
His dazzling smile takes my breath away. His beer is forgotten on the table in favor of me and I now have his full and very intense attention. “No question there.” His eyes travel down to my slightly parted lips and his gaze changes from playful to lustful in a second. It’s amazing and unsettling to witness such a thing and to be turned on by it. I squeeze my legs together, to stop me from fidgeting like a little girl on my chair. “Would you turn me down if I tried to kiss you before you go tonight?”
I shake my head. “No, but I won’t ask you to spend the night with me.”
He nods, apparently unaffected by the news. “I’m not trying to sleep with you.”