The Force of Gravity(66)

“I could get used to this,” he whispers in my ear.

I snuggle into to him, drawing in the once-forbidden scent that enlivens me, yet calms me at the same time. I inhale sharply and close my eyes, wanting to savor this moment. My mind wanders back to the fateful night I accidently sat next to him in that darkened theater and how different this experience is. . . .

I could get used to this, too.



WE STOP FOR Chinese takeout after the movie, before heading back to his place. He’s already risked so much for me tonight, I’m not about to push our luck by sitting exposed in a restaurant together. When we’re almost to his house, he turns up the music that has been quietly playing in the background.

“This song reminds me of you,” he says.

I recognize it right away and my pulse quickens.

“It’s a Def Leppard song,” I say. Not only is it a song on the album I bought, but it’s the song . . . the one that reminded me of him.

He lifts his brows. “Yeah, you know them?”

I nod, pursing my lips together. “I do, actually.”

“Do you like them?” he asks, trying to decipher my reaction.

“Love them.”

He leans forward and taps the screen, starting the song over, and cranks up the volume. The Tahoe’s impressive sound system engulfs me, and I am soon lost in the music.



“OKAY, I KNOW what I want for my real graduation present,” I announce as we walk into his house. “Not that I’m not grateful for the pictures and movie and everything,” I’m quick to add.

He belts out a laugh. “The movie was inspired by that dress, Kaley. I had nothing but selfish reasons for wanting to do that. I already told you, that was just as much a gift for me as it was for you.”

I bite my bottom lip. “Well . . . maybe this one will be too.”

He lifts an eyebrow as he sets the bag of takeout on the kitchen counter. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” I whisper.

He leans against the counter, both hands gripping the ledge behind him, his eyes drinking me in as I saunter toward him. I slide my hands up his shirt and across his mountainous chest, gazing up at him.

“Kaley, we can still take it slow. It doesn’t have to be tonight.”

I rise up on my tip toes and grip his neck, bringing his lips to mine. He cups his hands around my face, embracing me in a slow burning kiss.

“Please don’t make me wait any longer,” I breathe.

A low, deep chuckle rumbles in his throat. “I’m really trying to be a gentleman here.”

“I want you,” I whisper. “Right now.”

He presses his forehead against mine and lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Please,” I beg.

His eyes wander down my dress, and when he lifts his gaze back to mine, my legs sway as I read the hunger in his eyes.

I lift my mouth to his ear and whisper, “Please, Elijah. Make love to me.”

He doesn’t respond.

In a flash, he scoops me up and I shriek. He carries me down the hall with my legs wrapped tightly around his waist, kissing me without reserve. When we reach his bedroom, he leans forward, dropping me on his big lavish bed, and climbs on top of me. I tremble at his aggressiveness, fully aware he isn’t backing down this time. Flaming heat licks at my inner thighs, travelling up the center of my body as he kisses me with a startling new fanaticism.

“Hang on,” he says, breaking away.

He hops off the bed and reaches for the sound dock on his dresser, clicking it on. A song I’ve never heard before softly plays through the speakers as he turns to face me. With his eyes fixed on mine, he grabs the hem of his shirt and slides it over his head, tossing it to the floor. He pauses, looking at me, and I take the moment to skim my eyes over his massive upper body.

I can’t believe he’s all mine.

His movements are slow, deliberate, reminding me of a jungle cat as he moves closer, climbing back onto the bed and hovering over me. His lips tease mine, and I reach for his shoulders, gliding my hands over his taut muscles, feeling them move as he pulls the dark bedding out from underneath me. His cool, white sheets feel smooth against my skin as I lie there, watching him rip the comforter completely off the mattress.

His deep-brown eyes lock back onto mine as he slides off his shoes and socks. I try to hold his gaze as he kneels before me, but my vision keeps slipping to his chest, his shoulders, his abs. Damn, those abs. I sense a smirk behind his eyes as he watches me. He takes hold of my right ankle, lifting it to his mouth, kissing the inside, nibbling on the bone.

“I love your ankles,” he says.

“Really?” I ask, realizing I’m near breathless.

“Yeah,” he says gruffly. “Sexy-ass ankles. It was hard for me not to stare at them in class.”

The confession sparks a new urgency in me, and I practically squirm, waiting for his next touch. His eyes continue to paralyze me as he patiently unbuckles my stiletto, then tosses it aside.

“I liked watching you erase the whiteboard,” I say, almost giggling at my admission.

A broad grin stretches across his face. “Did you. . . . Hmm.” His lips are back on my ankle, then travel up the inside of my calf, and I giggle when he reaches the inside of my knee, tickling me. He doesn’t falter as he trails his kisses up my inner thigh, his gaze steady on mine, dissolving my laughter into an intense ache below me. I bend my knee as he presses my leg back, hiking up my dress. Every fiber in my body tightens as his mouth reaches the silky barrier between my legs. Instantly, I’m struck with fear and vulnerability, fully aware of my inexperience.

“Relax, baby,” he whispers against the satin. He kisses me over the silky fabric, shattering all my insecurities and coherent thoughts as unfamiliar pleasure takes over. He seems to be watching my reaction to every move he makes . . . with enjoyment.

Before I’m ready, his lips retreat, continuing the path of kisses down my left thigh. Taking his time, he moves down to the side of my knee and down my calf, paying special care to my ankle bone before removing my left stiletto.

“There’s a pink dress you wore in class,” he says, kissing the arch of my foot, then lowering my leg back down. “I’m going to need you to wear that again soon.” He remains kneeling before me. “I had some impure thoughts that day.”

I bite my bottom lip, sinking into the mattress, my legs almost numb from relaxation. “I used to watch you instead of my boyfriend during baseball games.”

A wicked grin stretches across his beautiful face. “I wanted to know what your lips tasted like every time you put on your chap stick.” His eyes stalk me like I’m his prey as he unfastens his pants. “Then when I finally tasted them, I was dying to know what the rest of you tasted like.” He slides his pants off, and I take in the glorious sight that is Elijah Slate in black boxer briefs.

Oh, help me.

I reach around my back, grabbing the zipper on my dress, but he lurches forward, pulling my hands out from under me, clasping my wrists together.

“Uh-uh,” he warns. “That’s my job.”

He lifts my right hand to his mouth, his seductive, caramel eyes stupefying me, and kisses the inside of my wrist with the same slow burning intensity he ravished my legs with. Continuing up the inside of my arm, he whispers to me in between kisses. “You are the most . . . beautiful . . . woman . . . I’ve ever . . . laid . . . eyes on . . .” His sensuous mouth moves like butter across my collarbone. “You . . . make me . . . so . . . crazy.” I gasp when he nicks the left side with his teeth, sending unexpected electricity down to the depths of my belly.

He makes his way down my left arm, brushing his lips across my wrist, then kissing the palm of my hand. He kisses each fingertip before he slips my ring finger into his mouth, sucking it, titillating my senses, seeming to enjoy watching my reaction.

“I want this finger to belong to me one day,” he says.

Wait. What?

He laughs. “Does that scare you?”

It takes me a moment to find my voice. “I think so.”

“Good,” he says, leaning in to kiss me, “‘cause you scare the hell outta me.”

He reaches behind me, grasping the top of my zipper, and I arch my back as he slides it down. I sink back into the mattress as he slides my dress down my body, pulling it all the way off.

“Mmm.” He takes a moment running his eyes over me and shakes his head. “Unreal,” he says under his breath.

He leans over me. “Take off your bra.” He says it with an edge of authority that ignites a mixture of fear and excitement within me.

I do as I’m told, tossing my bra to the floor. “Yes, Mr. Slate.”

That catches him.

“Kaley,” he warns, and I giggle.

“Oh, you think that’s funny, do you?” he says, his voice charged with playful menace.

I bite my lower lip to stifle more laughter.

“Let’s see if you think this is funny,” he says, his eyes glinting with intent.

With his dark eyes fixed on me, he lowers his mouth over my right breast, circling his tongue around my nipple before blowing gently, watching it rise and harden before pulling it into his mouth and sucking. Using his lips as a barrier for his teeth, he clasps my nipple between them, suddenly tugging hard, and I inhale a sharp gasp as an electric current strikes every nerve ending in my body. He moves to my left breast, gathering my nipple in his mouth, gently sucking and a clamorous moan rises out of me. He repeats his actions, teasing, biting, sucking, my breaths now unsteady.