“What have you got going on?” I ask, enjoying these comfortable moments between us where I don’t have to pretend. Between the dinners, lunches, gym workouts and the quiet nights between us, a real friendship is forming. One I don’t want to lose. I think he feels the same way. I mean, why else would he keep turning up?
“I was thinking of going for a ride.” He picks up the remote, flicking through the channels and then settling on some shark show. “Wanna come?”
“Where are you going?” A ride on Sy’s bike? That’s hardly a chore.
“Babe, you don’t ask, you just ride.” He shakes his head like I’ve got no clue. I try not to let the word babe affect me, but for some stupid hormonal reason, the silly female tendencies in me see it as something else.
“Um, Sy?” I ask, unable to stop myself.
“Yeah?” he answers, still looking at the TV.
“What are we doing?” Shut up, Holly, my brain is screaming at me.
“Watching TV,” he answers.
“I can see that, but what’s happening here?” I ask carefully, unsure how to address it. I know we said we wouldn’t label it, but things are changing, and I need to know so I can keep up.
“Holly, what are you really asking?” He turns to face me.
“Well, you keep turning up, our dinners, then the gym and now rides? I’m not sure what’s happening between us,” I rush out, yet at the same time wishing I never said anything in the first place.
“What do you need to know?” He smiles, freaking me out more.
“Well, one, why are you suddenly smiling? And two, what’s going on with us?”
“I’m smiling cause you’re acting all cute, and I didn’t realize how fucking adorable you could look in pajamas with your hair up like that,” he says, sitting back still staring. “And to answer your question, what’s happening? We’re just two friends hanging out on a Sunday morning, so relax,” he says, turning back to the television.
“Well, I’m glad we sorted that out,” I grumble. His response tells me nothing I don’t already know, and at the same time disappoints me.
“Me too, babe,” he agrees, still watching the TV screen. Seriously, this man is so strange that I don’t know what the hell to do with him.
“And I don’t look cute in these pajamas,” I add, annoyed he said that. I look anything but cute.
“You’re right, you don’t look cute.” His comment confuses me, before I see the side of his mouth curve into one of his sexy smiles. “You look sexy as fuck.” He turns, giving me his eyes. “And if you keep giving me attitude, this friendship will get weird,” he adds and I have to physically work through the lump that’s formed in my throat. My mouth snaps closed, shocked he just threw that in there. I blink once, twice and still don’t know how to respond.
“Breathe, Holly,” he instructs, but who needs to breathe when one is having an out of body experience. I finally draw in a sharp breath at his command. “Jesus, girl., if I knew your blush ran that deep, I would have tried to embarrass you sooner,” he chuckles, shaking his head.
“What are you talking about?” I finally get past the small shock. I know I asked, but I wasn’t expecting that.
“Baby, you really want to talk about this today? You ready for it?”
“I don’t really know what it is,” I admit.
“It is this,” he says, reaching and slightly touching my hand.
The warmth of his skin against my hand sends tingles up my arm, like a jolt of lust running through my veins. The electricity in the air pulls me into his space. The tip of his tongue peeks out over his lips and his hooded eyes watch my mouth as I stare at him. “You feel that?” he rasps, and I nod, feeling it all the way through me from the tip of my nose to the bottoms of my toes.
“That’s what we need to talk about. You ready for that?” he gently asks, while slowly drawing circles over my skin. I nod, not listening to my screaming heart yelling at me that it’s not ready. My stomach drops at that all-encompassing encounter of totally surrendering to the feeling, to an emotion, to this man.
“Holly, I’m going to kiss you now,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper. The words caress my skin like the heat of a fire on a chilly night, and my eyes close at the heaviness of what is about to happen. The emptiness of my heart is long forgotten as I balance on the edge of what this man can give me. It’s like he awakens something in me, and as my body hums in anticipation of feeling his lips, there’s no chance I can put it back to sleep.
“Hurry,” the word slips from my mouth just as the roughness of his lips touch mine. I’m expecting something more, something as urgent as what I’m feeling, but it’s a soft, yet deadly touch. My body moulds into his, like our simple connection gives me permission to relax. Deepening the kiss, my hands move to his chest, gripping the front of his leather cut. The rhythm of my heart beats out of time as I close my eyes and become lost in the taste of him on my tongue, and the feel of the leather between my fingers. I don’t think I’ve ever met a man that tasted so good, and now that I have, I know I’ll never be able to forget it. Leaning into me, we fall back, and instead of fighting it, I find myself leading. My hands pull him closer toward me in a desperate move to keep him from pulling away.
“Holly,” he whispers against my lips, but I don’t stop. My body is disorientated from the feeling of something other than pain.