I stare down at my feet, contemplating how I'm going to get out of this mess when he's suddenly in front of me, his arms on either side of me, boxing me in against the table behind me.
One look up into his smoldering green eyes and my breath escapes me in a dramatic whoosh. As always happens when he is this close, my nipples harden to painful points and my inner muscles clench.
I pull in a sharp breath, but don't say anything. I couldn't even if I had wanted to, the language center of my brain has officially switched off and I am operating on primal, animal mode at the moment. My body is humming at his nearness and is listing towards him as if caught in his gravitational pull.
He leans towards me then, allowing his hips to lightly rest against mine. The contact sends a jolt through me and I have to fight to not rub myself against him. My body begins pulsing and my eyes close of their own accord. My head falls back slightly, stretching my neck, which is aching for his lips.
Bringing those beloved lips beside my ear, he breathes, "You shouldn't want me."
I open my eyes and lock my gaze with his. He looks extremely vulnerable, and very sad. I'm at a loss to process his sentiment, considering most of my brain is shut down, but I do manage to squeak out, "Too bad, I do," before I kiss him.
I've been yearning to experience his lips since the moment I turned and saw him at the bar, and I'm not able to wait a moment longer. My hands fly to his neck and I finally take what I've been craving.
My kiss is fervent, starving. I immediately open my mouth and taste him. It is an intoxicating experience; he tastes of peppermint, and whiskey, and something smoky. I press in deeper as he parts his lips for me. The instant my tongue touches his, a low moan escapes me and heat pulses through me, causing the throbbing between my legs to intensify.
It is a heady feeling, taking this kiss from him. He is so strong, so powerful, and having my way with him is thrilling beyond belief. My tongue explores his mouth, taking long licks of his tongue, tracing the back of his teeth. My hips grind against his, totally out of my control, his rigid shaft providing tantalizing friction for my aching clit.
He breaks the kiss, pulling back from me and looking deeply into my eyes. His look is questioning, as if asking me if I truly want this, truly want him. How he could doubt my intention, my burning desire, I have no idea, but I answer him by diving towards him once again, this time raising my right leg and hooking it around his waist.
For a moment I feel his control slip and he's here with me, lost in the moment. He lifts me quickly onto the table, wrapping both my legs around his waist and pulling my hips towards him with powerful hands. For one moment, there is only the two of us, our bodies fused together as our tongues glide over each other. The moment is fleeting, and I can feel the instant he remembers himself and pulls that small piece of himself back.
In the next heartbeat, he breaks the kiss again. This time when we part, a frustrated groan escapes me. He chuckles and raises his right hand to stroke down my cheek. I'm consumed with lust and terrified he's going to end this. I'm beyond thrilled when his hand continues down my neck, ultimately reaching my breast. A firm squeeze from his large paw sends another jolt straight to my core and I shudder. I am shockingly close to an orgasm.
I look at him with imploring eyes. I want to come so badly, all sense of self respect and restraint are gone. Sensing my need, and probably taking pity on me, he commits himself to the act of getting me off.
He shifts slightly causing his erection, hard and hot through his jeans, to align perfectly between my thighs. I flex my hips against him as he thrusts into me, my body receiving exquisite stimulation.
He reclaims my mouth and this time he's in complete control of the kiss. His tongue prods and demands, and I willingly yield to his command. His hand on my breast grows more insistent, squeezing harder and faster. I whimper as he pinches my nipple, and he lets out a small grunt.
He pinches again and twists with the perfect amount of pressure. My inner muscles answer, throbbing. I break the kiss, panting and moaning as the tension builds within me. He moves his lips to my neck, biting and sucking and sending me over the edge.
With an uninhibited cry, my head falls back and my orgasm breaks. Delicious pulses radiate out through my body and I shake in his arms as waves of pleasure wash through me. He continues thrusting against me, lengthening my climax. With a low growl and hard bite on my shoulder, he keeps at me until I finally grow still in his arms.
I slowly open my eyes and stare at him. I'm sated, but desire still courses through me. I want to feel him; I want to pleasure him. I want him inside me, and I want it now.
I reach for his jeans and he steps back, pushing me back onto the counter so I won't fall off and quickly putting three feet between us.
Confused, I jump off and step toward him, "Ian, I want to please -"
"It's late, we should get going," he says curtly. He steps around me and starts placing the bags of stew into a box.
"Ian … " I trail off, not sure of what to say. He clearly did not want to continue this encounter, but I don't know why. Did I do something?
"Oh my god, do you have a girlfriend?" I ask, my voice coming out shrill and scared. "Not that slutly blonde, but you do have one, don't you?"
"What?" He turns and finally looks at me again. "A girlfriend? No, of course not. Why would you ask that?"
"Why don't you want me to get you off?" I counter his question with one of my own.
"Kelli … " he hesitates and for a moment I think he's going to actually answer me. "Look, I'm good, alright? The moment's over, let's just head home. I'll give you a ride," he says, slipping the box into the fridge.
He always either walks, or gives, me a ride on nights we close together because, even though I only live nine blocks away, he doesn't like me walking by myself. It is a safe neighborhood, but one can never be too safe, or so he says.
Tonight though, I don't care. I'm pissed, and a little crushed. I've just had the best orgasm I'd experienced in years, and as quickly as the high came, I've been dumped into a sea of uncertainty and regret. I want Ian so badly, and I thought he wanted me as well, but he has thrown up a wall and I have no clue how to scale it.
"I'm good, thanks," I say, mocking his words. "See you tomorrow." Grabbing my purse from the cubbies by the office, I leave through the kitchen door.
I walk quickly, shaking my head and muttering to myself about how I always manage to fall for men who seem to be incapable of a healthy relationship. Not more than a minute passes before I hear an engine idling behind me. I turn and see Ian's truck.
"Kelli, get in the truck," Ian says through the rolled down passenger window.
"No, thanks," I say angrily, and try walking even faster.
"This is stupid. I'm not going to let you sacrifice your safety because … " he trails off.
I glare in the direction of his truck, not really able to see him in the dark. I want him to finish that sentence. Because of what? Because he's being a total closed-off, obnoxious asshole? Yeah, that's how I'd finish that sentence.
Not able to stand the thought of him trailing me for the ten minutes it'll take to walk home, I break into a sprint. Even though I'm exhausted, embarrassed and confused, I make it home in less than five minutes. Rushing through the gate into the back yard, I don't stop until I reach my door. Shoving the key in the lock, I hear him gun his truck and take off at full speed.
Chapter 5: Rachel Holds Court
Monday morning dawns and I'm beyond thankful that I have two days off. I have no idea how I'll face Ian on Wednesday. I'm embarrassed by how wanton I was; how shameless I was in my desire to come. This move has left me emotionally drained and I grabbed onto Ian like some human life preserver. Based on his reaction, I'm thinking that's a role he has no interest in.
Desperately needing some girl talk, I call Rachel, hoping to catch her on her lunch break. Rachel's a big shot attorney and works far too much. She's always willing to make time for me, but I often feel guilty knowing I'm taking her away from billable hours or family time. Today I'm hoping she's taking the time to grab something to eat, instead of sending her legal assistant out to get food.
"How's my beautiful best friend?" Rachel asks as she picks up the phone.
Simply hearing her voice reduces me to a blubbering mess. The stress of the move, the challenge of learning a new job in a new city with no friends, combined with the intensity of my attraction to Ian and his confusing behavior last night, has finally all caught up with me. Lucky Rachel.