by C. A. Harms
Chapter Twenty-Six
Janelle
I look out the front window for what feels like the hundredth time, and my stomach flutters with nervous energy. I try not to focus so much on the fact that it is a quarter until eight and Shane said seven.
I know he said seven.
I have been a mess of nerves all day, wondering how tonight would go, hoping that things just fall back into the groove they seem to be in when I left him this morning. Then the doubt weighs on my mind. He said he didn’t regret last night, but maybe after he came down from the high, he changed his mind.
I grab another beer from the fridge and ignore the nagging voice in my head reminding me that it’s my fourth. Using the countertop, I pop off the cap and lift it to my lips, downing half the contents. I prefer something stronger, but beer goes better with pizza. Pizza that Shane said he would bring, at seven.
I groan at the pathetic nature of my thoughts and shake off the anxiety that is bubbling in my chest. I feel a little tipsy, not so much that I am drunk but definitely enough to lower my inhibitions and cause me to say and do things I normally won’t. At least before I have the chance to stop myself from making a fool of myself.
Headlights flash over my front window, and I hurry toward the living room just as Shane turns off his truck. My legs wobble beneath me slightly, and I grab the arm of the couch as I lean in to get a better look. Pizza, yes, he is definitely carrying a pizza, and he is coming my way.
Rushing off to the bathroom, still holding the half empty beer in my hand, I check over my appearance and immediately see the bloodshot look in my eyes.
This could be bad.
The sound of my doorbell echoes through the house, and I back away from the mirror and take in a deep breath. “Do not say anything you’ll regret later.” I say this to myself; hell, I even nod as if in reply.
I am a complete and total mess.
Again the doorbell rings. I spin around, and what do I do? Smack my forehead off the doorframe, hard.
I yelp, stumble, and trip over the rug in the hallway, tossing my beer in the process. It collides with the hardwood floor, rolling toward the front door, leaving a trail of beer along the way. Then it clicks against the doorway, and I stare ahead, dumbfounded. I think I knocked the logic out of my brain, because I do nothing. Even when the door comes open and my eyes lock on the dark orbs of Shane, I still do nothing.
I watch in horror as he takes in the scene around him, the now practically empty beer bottle laying at his feet, the trail of alcohol it left in its wake, and me sprawled out like some fool on my floor. Oh yeah, and the bump, red mark, or whatever the fuck is plastered on my head, I am sure from the impact of the door frame as my head so gracefully collided with the unforgiving wood.
Mortified, I lower my head to the plush rug beneath me and pray like hell that it wraps around me like a blanket and carries me away.
“Are you okay?” I feel Shane brush back the hair from my face.
I shake my head, refusing to look at him. I don’t want to see the look on his face. The humiliation is engulfing me with each passing second.
“Did you trip?” Yep, after I ran in to the doorframe. “Are you hurt?” My head is pounding, but my pride hurts worse. “Janelle, help me out here. I don’t want to move you and hurt you worse.”
“I’m good.” I know I have to move, but I have to figure out how to do that without seeing his face or without him seeing mine. Ridiculous, most definitely, but hey, it is what it is.
“Baby.” Why do I swoon and feel weak from such a simple endearment? “Let me make sure you’re okay.”
I take in a deep breath, finally coming to the realization that there is no way out of this. Slowly I lift my head and close my eyes tight to avoid the look on his face. I hear him hiss, and my eyes shoot open, just in time to catch him cringe.
“Damn, Janelle.” His eyes widen to emphasize the point as he focuses on my head. “That is definitely gonna leave a scar.”
Instantly my hand is up pressing to my forehead, trying to cover the hideous aftermath of my collision, and immediately Shane begins to chuckle.
It is then I come to the conclusion that he is being a jokester, and I push him away as he falls back on to his ass.
“I do have to ask, though…” Narrowing my eyes at him, he again finds humor in my tormented state. “Did you think the door would give?”
“For your information, it was the frame and not the door itself.” As if that makes it any better.
I avoid his stare, trying not to smile at the way he is smirking at me. Arrogance should not look so good on anyone, but this man wears it too well.
“It looks like you’re growing a third eye out of the side of your head.” I roll my eyes at him, and his laugh deepens. “We should get some ice on it, though.” Without waiting for me to agree, he begins to stand and in the process pulls my body up from the floor.
With our chests now smashed firmly together, I look up at him and see he has the perfect view down my shirt. My breasts are pushed upward, practically spilling out of the top of my shirt.
“Enjoying the view?” Apparently the fact that my head had just bounced off the trim did nothing to knock the liquid courage out of me. The taunting words fall from my lips without a single thought.
“Truth, or do you want me to be a gentleman and tell you that I was not just enjoying your tits?”
I love his reply and push hard against his chest, making him stumble back. Turning on my heel, I walk to the kitchen with him sauntering behind, the earlier cockiness still completely present in his stature.
“I guess I shouldn’t tell you that I am checking out your, ass too.” Glancing back over my shoulder, I find he is, in fact, focusing on my butt, and laughter erupts from me. “What?”
“No shame.” I shake my head and pause when I reach the refrigerator, opening the freezer to pull out a bag of frozen peas. As I turn, I am surprised to find him so close behind me. When I try to step back, I realize that I can’t as the large appliance behind me helps to hold me captive.
“Should I feel ashamed of looking at you and appreciating how perfect you are?”
“I’m not perfect.” I run into walls and fall over rugs.
“I’d have to disagree.” Oh, I love when he flirts. It does things to a girl, things that should be illegal. Because they are definitely indecent. “If my memory isn’t playing tricks on me, I can picture you very very clearly and yes,” he leans to kiss my jaw, “you are definitely perfect.”
And there go my panties.
Shane kisses along my jaw toward my mouth, whispering incoherently along the way. All I can manage to hear is the swooshing in my ears as the blood rushes through me, descending to one central location. Take me now, I want to scream as my nipples harden against him. I feel him smile and know immediately he is fully aware of my reaction to him.
Arrogant, cocky, and so damn irresistible. It all seems so unfair.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Shane
“What’ll it be?” I lean in closer toward the guy to hear him over the band playing. A smile creeps onto my lips when my eyes land on the gorgeous blonde who is climbing up on the barstool at the end of the bar. She tucks her chin to her chest, and I can see the redness cover her cheeks, even if she is attempting to hide it.
After a night together, I thought the shyness would be long gone, but I’m glad that it’s not. I love that look on her.
“Two Coors and one Bud.” Grabbing each from the cooler, I pop the tops and place them on the countertop before him, taking his payment and accepting the rest as a tip when he walks away.
The next person steps up, and again I look to Janelle, feeling my heartbeat speed up when I notice the guy at her side flirting. She appears unimpressed, looking in the opposite direction to avoid his advances. The douche doesn’t seem to get the hint, and I fist my hands on the laminate bar top when he leans in and looks down the front of her shirt.
I am two
seconds from marching toward her and smashing the guy’s face when I see Slate move into the very small space between her and the guy. In the process of his invasion, he shoulder checks the scumbag and almost knocks him backwards off his stool and onto the floor.
I chuckle, seeing Janelle look at Slate and then over at me as she figures it out. Slate wraps his arm over her shoulders, leans in to whisper in her ear, and then they both watch me close.
Her lips move, indicating she is saying something in return, and it is then I realize that my friend, who later I may have to beat the snot out of, has picked up on my interaction to his closeness to her. Asshole is playing on it, and I am positive he’s offered this theory of his to her too.
Fine, I’ll take it and one up his game.
After I offer the shots to the perky lady in front of me, I step away and head in their direction. Slate smirks, and Janelle smiles.
“Hey, buddy.” Arching my brow, I shake my head and ignore his kid-like greeting. Fucker wants nothing more than to get a rise out of me. “How’s your night?”
With my eyes locked with Janelle’s, I lean in closer, practically laying on the bar top, and grip the back of her neck. Pulling her close, I kiss her slow at first, toying with her, hearing her quick intake of breath, before I deepen our kiss.
I am completely aware of the fact that people are watching, and the chuckle of my friend. I also don’t give a fuck. I know that I can’t kiss her like I really want to, but damn, it is almost impossible to pull back.
But I do.
I don’t even acknowledge Slate. I already know he is loving this. I only watch her. When she opens her eyes and those gorgeous blues settle on me, I feel like the air from my lungs momentarily disappears.
“Hi.” The second I say the word, I feel like an idiot. But she smiles, making it all feel better.
“Hi,” Slate adds, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Janelle’s cheek, surprising her. With humor dancing in his eyes, he smiles wide. “Seems my boy here has a soft spot for you, Blondie.”
“You’re gonna have a soft spot between your eyes.” I don’t smile in return, looking between his arm that again rests over her shoulders and his eyes still lit up with mischief.
“Aw, brother, I can feel the love.”
I’m two seconds from showing him just how much I love him when I hear the sweet laughter of Janelle as she takes in the banter between him and me. Her laughter alone makes it all worth it, and I realize for the first time in a while that it feels amazing to smile. I feel lighter when she is around, and every day I wonder when that feeling will fade, when it will come to a halt due to something crazy in my life. But right now, in this very moment, I understand that I can’t spend every day waiting for the ball to drop. I have to live and enjoy the time I am being given.
***
It’s late, I know this, but I’ve wanted to see her again since the second she walked out of the bar tonight. I’d requested Slate walk her to her car and wait until she was safely tucked inside. He returned with a knowing smirk, and when I told him to shut the fuck up, he laughed. Not a small chuckle, but a full out, hold your stomach kind of laugh.
I ignored him, finishing out my night. When I was done, he and I shared a heart to heart where he laid all joking aside.
“Being happy looks damn good on you.”
I hear his words over and over again as I drive across town and pull up in the driveway.
I know I should let her sleep, but when my feet hit the pavement, I am automatically moving in the direction of her front door.
I tell myself that if she doesn’t answer after the first knock, I will leave, but I know without a doubt I won’t be happy without getting to feel her in my arms.
Lifting my hand, I lightly tap the door and feel a rush of nervous energy as I wait. Forever passes, or so it seems, when I hear the slide of a chain and a click of a lock.
My heart races.
That feeling one gets when you are waiting for a gift to be revealed, the excitement, the anticipation, it all hits me at once when I see the silhouette of Janelle fill the now open doorway.
She is wearing those small little sleep shorts I have seen her wear before, matched with a tank top, yet it is more of a crop top, showing off a small sliver of her stomach. A glimmer sparkles, and I realize it is the gleam of the streetlight behind me reflecting off her belly ring. A memory of licking along her belly and tugging on that ring invades me.
“Sorry it’s so late.” She steps closer. “Truth?”
She nods.
“I couldn’t stay away.” There is no reason to deny the pull I feel toward her. One that I never meant to feel but now know there is no hope of avoiding. “I should go home, but I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because I like it over here so much better.” Not only because Janelle is here, but because my place is a reminder of everything I hate about my life. A reminder that my family is gone and all I have left are memories of what we once were. Picture albums of the happy times that fade with each day that passes.
She lifts her hand and links her fingers with mine before tugging my body forward and taking a couple steps back. “I guess that means that you should probably stay here tonight then.” Looking up at me through her long fluttering lashes, she offers me that killer smile of hers, and I feel it run through me like a heat wave.
Gorgeous.
“I guess it does.” Allowing her to tug me even further inside her place, I pause at the now closed door behind me and twist the lock. Finally shifting to look at her once again, for the first time I take in her appearance. Her hair is everywhere, falling from the bundle piled on top of her head. I know without a doubt that I have woken her up, and I contemplate going home and allowing her to go back to sleep, until she moves in close. Wrapping her arms around the back of my neck, she applies just enough pressure without saying a word. Lifting her body closer, she presses her lips to mine, and I accept the kiss without any further hesitation.
Damn, she feels un-fucking-believable. Each kiss I share with Janelle feels like our first, as if we are both doing what we can to memorize the other.
“I’m actually really happy that you decided to come here instead of going home.” Again she steps back, and I instantly miss our closeness. “I was lying in bed thinking about you.”
Unable to keep the cocky smile from forming, I trace over her arm with the tip of my finger. “And what were you thinking?”
Being so close, I can see the familiar movement of her bowing her head as she attempts to hide her face. She is embarrassed, trying to shy away from the moment, but I push her further. Watching Janelle venture out of her safety zone is like finding treasure hidden in a deep dark place.
“How about instead of you telling me…” I place one hand at her waist and the other I use to tip her chin upward forcing her to look at me. “…you show me?”
I knew after our first time together that I would never get enough, and I wanted more the second she walked out my door. She has a purity about her, an innocence that is refreshing.
Janelle turns, giving me her back as she begins to walk toward her bedroom, when I step up behind her and circle her waist with my arm, halting her steps.
“Unless you would rather I leave, or we could watch a movie.” My heart beats rapidly, and I know what I want her to say, but if I’m being honest, we could do nothing at all but sleep and I know without a doubt I will still be happy.
“Bed is good.” It’s nothing more than a whisper, but I can hear it clearly. With a simple little shift of her ass against me, I feel myself hardening almost instantly. Controlling my reaction to her is pretty much impossible.
Arching her neck, she gives me the silent invite I need, and I lower my lips to her neck. Kissing over the contour, down over her shoulder, sucking softly, feeling her shiver against me. My hands seek out her breasts, and I begin kneading them in my palms. This woman will be the death of me, I just know it, but I want her, need her, and I no
longer want to fight it.
I release her tits, slowly gliding my palms over her body, lower and lower, over her stomach, and pausing when I reach the top of her shorts.
Using my fingertips, I slip even lower and just behind the elastic of her shorts. Finding her bare and exposed beneath, I press my forefinger over her clit and smile against the side of her neck when she gasps. Janelle lets go and her head lolls back, laying against my shoulder as I push forward even more. Wetness coats my finger. I part her more, and reaching my destination, I push one finger inside of her. Immediately her hips begin to shift, pumping her pelvis in my hand, taking me in deeper.
Janelle is so responsive, so beautiful in her turned-on state. The contour of the side of her neck calls to me, and I trace over her pulse point with my tongue. With Janelle I feel like I am out of control, like I am starving without any hope of completion. I can’t get enough of her. I know I never will be able to.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Janelle
Shane turns me in his arms, bringing me face to face with him. He doesn’t say a word, just cups the side of my face, and I lean into his touch. As his lips descend, I close my eyes the very second his lips brush over mine.
“You are so beautiful.” I feel my heart race from his words. “And you make everything better,” he adds, kissing me once more. “Every single thing.”
Dropping his hand from my face, he lowers it over my shoulder until coming to rest at my hip, lifting his left, too. My body is humming; I feel so alive when he lifts me up, my feet leave the floor, and I circle his waist with my legs. Hooking my feet behind his back, I move in and kiss him, taking control.
