Fear of Falling(48)

“What are you talking about, Kami?”

I took a deep breath, my eyes trained on our clasped hands. I wanted to pull mine away. I wanted to run and hide in my room for week to nurse the ache of regret. But then again, I wanted to touch him. Needed to touch him. I just didn’t understand why that need was so strong.

“When I told you that I wasn’t the girl you were looking for, I wasn’t lying. I’m not. I’ll never be. I can never give you more than this right here. And you don’t want more. Trust me; it’s not worth the hassle.”

I flicked my gaze up to his warm, brown eyes and bit back the sob at the confusion he still wore. Then came a flash of resignation, causing him to pull his hand from mine. But he wasn’t done with me yet. He unbuckled his seatbelt, leaned over to unclick mine, and pulled our bodies together.

“You’re wrong,” he whispered, his lips mere inches from mine. One arm snaked around my waist, imprisoning my frame to his, as the other raked my still damp tresses. “You’re so wrong. And I’ll prove it to you. I’ll make you believe it one day.”

“That’s impossible,” I replied, holding his gaze.

“It’s not, Kami. Just no one has been man enough to stick around to show you. You scared them all away before they could. But I assure you, I’m not afraid. I’m not scared of whatever it is you think will send me running. I’m not going anywhere.”

“For now. But eventually, you will,” I murmured, pushing away from him before he could see the tears in my eyes. No one liked a chick that cried all the time.

I grabbed my purse, careful to keep my head down, and opened the door to the truck.

“Hey,” he called out, right before I jumped out. I kept my eyes fixed on the sidewalk below, afraid of completely losing it if I looked back at him.

“I mean it, Kami. I’ll prove it to you. I’m not afraid of this, and you shouldn’t be either.”

I didn’t respond. I simply nodded before swinging my legs out of the cab to hop down. Then I walked away from the only man I ever wanted. The man who had both owned me and set me free with just a kiss. The man who had broken me down and put me back together again with his touch.

Blaine. The scary-beautiful man I was terrified of loving.





This was bullshit.

Complete bullshit.

I was an ass for letting Kami walk away from me. I should have stopped her. I shouldn’t have let her go. But I couldn’t make her stay, no matter how bad she needed to. I couldn’t make her believe that I was different from all the other guys that had turned away from her. But I could show her. I could give her what they hadn’t.

I just didn’t know what that was.

I hadn’t been able to sleep since she jumped out of my truck Monday night. I couldn’t shake the image of those sad, green eyes from my head. I hadn’t stopped thinking about the feel of her petite body in my arms, her full lips moving against mine. The way she tasted, the way she mewled and squirmed on my lap when I flicked her nipples.

Shit.

I needed that again. I needed her again. But more. So. Much. More.

I was the asshole that let her get away. I should’ve demanded she hear me out. I should have made her look me in the eye and tell me how she felt in return. Because though her mouth was telling me one thing, her body, her eyes, her lips…they told me an entirely different story.

Kami wanted me. And it wasn’t just some superficial physical attraction. She felt how good we were together. She knew that whatever she was afraid of, whatever kept her running from me, could never win out over my feelings for her. Because, dammit, I fucking had feelings for her. And it was complete bullshit that I didn’t tell her, in fear that it would scare her even more.

It was Wednesday, the first day I would see Kami after our date. Maybe she spent her day off thinking about me. Maybe she was just as tormented by her feelings as I was. And maybe, just maybe, she’d run right back to me, finally ready to let me in.

If only I could be so lucky.

I was talking to CJ when she walked in for her shift. Well, more like listening to sordid stories of his latest conquest: a 38-year-old divorcee with three kids, a sex drive that wouldn’t quit and a thing for bondage.

“So this crazy-ass broad handcuffs me to the bed and leaves! Fucking leaves me butt-ass naked while she goes to pick up her fucking kids from school or some shit like that. And it wasn’t until one of those little brats walked in and caught me, my dick flapping in the wind, before someone set me free!”

I shook my head. “Dude, that’s fucked up. Where do you meet these women?”

“Milfs.com?” he shrugged. “It’s cool. She actually has a pretty hot daughter that lives at home. She’s 18, too…”