by Sara Brookes
The theater plunged into darkness as the auditorium lights were cut so the movie could begin. Ever since she’d first met him at the coffee house, struggling with the poor equipment, there had been something about him that she found herself drawn to. Everything about him, from his brown hair to the deep color of his eyes and even the fabulous build, were all things that would undoubtedly send most women’s mouths watering.
But that wasn’t what continued to set her sex drive revving into overdrive.
While good looks certainly helped, it was the brief flashes of ink hidden under the hem of his sleeves. The few suggestive comments he’d made that caused her to feel so special. Those things told her there was more than met the eye when it came to Patrick Conners. That was what attracted her. The delicious hint of more to come.
Never let it be said she was normal when it came to what she found attractive about people. She wanted to get to know him better. Learn what it was that made him tick. Maybe learn if there was more to those comments than mere words. This was a normal, healthy reaction for an adult woman, right?
Despite her desires, a small voice inside her wouldn’t stop nagging. It repeated over and over that his comments were simply meant to be friendly. She faced that reality long ago when she realized she was more likely to be classified as a buddy, not a girlfriend.
The house lights blazed to full as a heavy red curtain dropped into place over the screen. She’d missed the entire movie. Well, damn. As she turned to face Patrick, curious if he enjoyed the show, she found his gaze already focused on her. Suddenly nervous, she sipped the soda she’d set between them.
The interest she thought she saw in his eyes knocked her for a loop. Men didn’t look at her that way. Not Allison Stuart. At least the sane ones didn’t. “They’ll have intermission for ten minutes before the next film starts. Gives everyone a chance to stretch and maybe get a refill or two. Empty the bladder, you know.”
His head tilted. “And what are we in for next? Action? Suspense? Horror?”
“Let’s see. Hitchcock produced and directed a number of films, so we could be in for anything. Cooper never plays them in the same order twice either. Since North by Northwest, which could be classified as an action movie, just finished, I suspect we’re in store for something a little heavier. A thriller, maybe?” She pulled out the slip of paper Cooper had given her last week. “Strangers on a Train. Easily one of his best movies, in my opinion. Two men sit within the small, confined space of a train and discuss murder. Movies of that type would bore most modern audiences. They just don’t make movies of that caliber anymore.” You’re babbling, Stuart. Cut. It. Out. She was really going to have to work on this whole social thing. “Frak.”
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”
“What?” She braced herself for the inevitable “buddy” talk.
“Frak. What does that mean?”
She sighed in relief. Not what she expected at all. This she could handle. “It’s from Battlestar Galactica. It was a way for the show to get around the censors since they couldn’t use fuck. It’s just stupid geek stuff again. Sorry.”
“Stupid geek stuff, huh?” She shifted in her chair, uncomfortable with the way he continued to stare. Great. Just add even more reasons why he thinks you’re hopeless. Chalk another system failure. “I like stupid geek stuff. Especially when it comes from you. You have a fabulous mouth. I’ve wanted to find out how your lips taste since you rescued me. I’m going to kiss you now, Allison.”
“What?” Here she’d gone on about movie audiences as though she was a babbling twit and he wanted to kiss her. Just who in the hell was this guy?
He shifted closer, the tip of his shoe brushing against her leg. “I said I’m going to kiss you.”
Tension flared in a knot between her eyes. She’d heard him loud and clear. “I know. I just…most guys just claim a kiss and worry about the consequences later. Unless things have changed that much since the last time I’d been in a position to worry about this sort of thing.”
His fingers brushed against her forearm, igniting a fire deep in her core. “You assume I’m not worried about the consequences.”
“What? That doesn’t make any sense.” This had to be a joke, right? There simply couldn’t be another explanation. Or there could. Her eyes narrowed as she clued in on what was really going on here. “One of the guys put you up to this, didn’t they? You all thought it’d be fun to play some sick, mortifying practical joke on the geek chick who hasn’t gotten properly laid in forever. Give her a quick thrill from a handsome guy who wouldn’t normally give her the time of day. I swear, I’m going to—”
“Allison, stop.” Patrick set a firm hand on her shoulder when she tried to rise.
Anger boiled hot in her veins as her hands balled into tight fists in her lap. She stared straight ahead without seeing the curtain. “I appreciate you showing up tonight to humor me, but I don’t want my friends’ supposed charity. And I most certainly don’t want a kiss or anything else they managed to convince you I needed.”
His fingers softly brushed against her clenched hands, his ease a contradiction to the tension coiled in her stomach. “No one convinced me of anything. And I don’t know your friends—any of them. I’m not sure I want to if you think they’re capable of pulling the kind of stunt you just described.” He wiggled his finger, slipping it between her hands to gently tug them apart. “Did you ever stop to think what would happen if one kiss wasn’t enough?”
Her mouth snapped shut. The fury coursing through her body had caused her to be unprepared for what he’d said. She shifted in the seat as the curtain at the front of the theater blurred in front of her eyes. The house lights dimmed as Patrick pressed his lips against the exposed skin of her shoulder. The moment his mouth touched her flesh, she felt as if a live wire had been placed in her hand. It was as if she’d come alive for the very first time in her life.
Oh dear God.
“You haven’t answered me,” he whispered tenderly against her skin. “Tell me.”
Arousal did a lazy summersault in her gut as the softness of his voice slid through her, melting the last of her ire. Despite his hushed tone, utter command rang in his voice. The sound compelled her to do whatever he wanted. She’d dreamed that very thing a few times, but she’d never experienced that kind of sensation until this instant.
Despite the commanding inflection, he continued to softly caress her shoulder with his lips. His fingers still stroked her hands in a slow, relaxing pattern. Did this gentlemanly nature go all the way to his soul?
She needed to know.
“Yes. I’d like that,” she responded quietly. Her chest ached from the solid hammering of her heart against her sternum. Nervous energy caused her to move her now sweaty hands away from his and shove them between her crossed legs.
His gentle fingers tucked under her jaw as his palm pushed lightly on her chin. Just as his lips met hers, the theater went completely dark. The rich and complex aroma of roasted coffee, with its undercurrent of sweetness, swirled around them as he leaned closer.
She waited for him to angle his mouth over hers, maybe add even more passion to an already heated moment. However, he surprised her—again—by keeping the kiss light. Despite the casualness, the heat of overwhelming arousal spun in the air around her.
He’d been so certain earlier, what kept him from going further?
Just as she was about to break off the kiss to ask, his other hand slid around the back of her neck. She melted into his touch, marveling as they both shifted to face one another. Her knee banged hard into the metal arm of their shared armrest. She ignored the pain, focusing instead on the energy pinging around inside her body.
The air around her crackled with longing, pulling her toward him in a silent demand to merge with him. His hands grew hot against her skin as he seemed to feed off the heat she was generating. Her body had never felt this responsive, this heavy with lust.
She found
herself addicted to the way he drew sensations from deep inside. They were raw and feral things she never knew existed. Things she never thought herself capable of beyond a few solo-pleasure fantasies. She wanted him to take whatever he wanted, because she’d gladly give it to him. Whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it. She was at his bidding.
His tongue slipped past her open lips, causing her to groan in response as the throbbing bracketing her body suddenly focused on one singular point. Her clit pulsed, begging for some kind of attention. A caress. A nip. Anything that would cease this desire consuming her very being.
Guided along a slow and arduous path she was unfamiliar with, she felt comforted at the same time. How in the world is it possible for him to take me so far away from everything I’ve known and make me feel so safe at the same time?
She loved the blaze spreading through her. It was so damn addicting. He seemed to sense the need churning inside her, thrusting his tongue farther into her mouth. He didn’t just kiss her—he owned her, marking her with such a powerful kiss, she’d never want to kiss another man again.
His hands continued to gently cradle her face as he broke away, his thumbs slowly trailing over her cheeks. She studied him, looking for signs of regret or disgust. Lit by the movie playing on the tall screen, she instead found raw lust swimming in his expression.
If things progressed here in the movie theater, they could very well find themselves in a highly compromising position. She wanted nothing more than for him to bend her over the row of seats and show her what he was capable of. Better yet, show her what she was capable of.
This wasn’t the kind of behavior she engaged in even when she found herself attracted to a man. She’d never felt this deep-seated need taunting her now that her body had a sample of what he could offer. If that blinding kiss was any indication of the passion he intended to bestow upon her, she couldn’t even fathom how sex would be with him.
The thought of the kind of power they could generate together scared the hell out of her. Panic slammed into her full force, knocking her equilibrium out of balance. Pulling away, she muttered a feeble excuse about the restroom as she shot to her feet. He said her name as she pushed past, but she flat out ignored him. No way could she face him right at this moment. Not when she felt so vulnerable and…bared.
Her feet carried her down the staircase at breakneck speed despite her proclivity for clumsiness. Once safely in the facilities, she bypassed the stalls entirely to fold her body over one of the sinks. Her lungs burned as she fought for breath.
What the hell is wrong with me? There’s a drop-dead gorgeous man out there who just kissed you blind. He obviously wants you and you decide to go hide in the restroom as if you’re a teenager on her first date.
Her reflection caught her eye as she reached for the handle of the cold-water knob. Her hand froze mid-air as she noticed her lips were red and swollen. Unable to resist, she slid the pad of her thumb against the now highly sensitive, plump skin. She jumped at the quick flash of heat between her legs. Her pussy ached with a desperate craving no amount of attention from her own hand would alleviate.
Cursing, she clenched her hands around the rim of the white porcelain sink. While she was no stranger to arousal, her body had never been this out of control, this on fire. How in the world could a simple kiss from Patrick cause this sort of reaction? She corrected herself. It may have been just a kiss, but there was nothing simple about it or the way he made her feel.
She could exist on his kisses and be sated for the rest of her life.
But she didn’t just want his kisses. She wanted so much more. Much, much more. She’d thought she’d wanted him before, but now…whoa. Her mind started to form images of how his flesh would feel against hers. She tried desperately not to think about lying beneath him, feeling his naked flesh pressed against hers. To feel his cock in her mouth or his commanding voice washing over her as he thrust hard inside her pussy.
With a strangled cry, she pushed away from the mirror, unable to stand looking at the arousal sparking in her eyes. The chill of the icy tiles at her back caused her to shiver, fracturing the heat Patrick had so carefully shaped. She couldn’t lose herself to a man this way. No, not couldn’t—wouldn’t. She wouldn’t be someone blindly controlled by desire. The way he’d taken her over so completely in only a matter of seconds told her it’d be too easy to crave those heady sensations he’d sparked in her.
Calmer now, she splashed cold water on her face, refusing to look in the mirror again. After a few minutes, she stepped out of the bathroom only to stop short at the sight of Patrick waiting at the bottom of the balcony stairs. Lines of concern marred his forehead.
Crap. He’s still handsome when he’s worried.
Her heart rate spiked when he crossed to her, pushing into her personal space as if she hadn’t bolted. His hand cradled her elbow as if she was made of the finest porcelain. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Just when she thought she had a firm grip on her reality, he had to go and do something chivalrous. She knew down to the marrow of her bones that if they returned to the theater, they wouldn’t watch any of the movies. Good sense also told her she couldn’t leave with him either, because they would sleep together. Though sleeping was the last thing she figured they’d do. The thought of hot, sweaty fucking was an excellent prospect.
What the hell is wrong with me?
She’d spent years priding herself on being a strong, confident woman who didn’t need to surrender to a man. That road had already been paved with disastrous consequences. Yet this man had stripped everything away with one sweltering kiss that sent her reeling. His undeniable passion caused her to feel vulnerable in a way she’d once refused to ever feel again.
So why the fuck do I want to toss it all aside and just hand him the reins?
With incredible timing, her phone rang. Mom. For once, her mother had just given her the perfect out. “My office. They’ve run into some problems. I’m going to head over there and see what’s going on.” The lie easily slipped off her tongue.
“I can drive you.”
A tempting offer, but she couldn’t accept. It had nothing to do with him and everything in the world to do with her, but she couldn’t tell him that because it sounded clichéd. “No. Stay and enjoy the movies for a while. I don’t know how long this is going to take. You shouldn’t have to sit around and wait for me.”
He shrugged. “Isn’t Bullseye in the building in Farpoint Square on the other side of town? I don’t mind, believe me. I’d rather know you were safe.”
She started to set a hand on his forearm but stopped at the last second. “I appreciate it, but my car is right across the street. She needs a workout anyway, since I don’t drive her enough.”
No doubt he truly meant to see her safely home, but raw lust darkened his gaze. He wanted her. It was frightening how much she wanted him in return. “Thank you, but I really have to go.”
As she left the theater, chilly April air slapped her face but did nothing to curb the embarrassment burning her cheeks.
* * * * *
Two days later, Patrick stood in the back room of Perfect Shot, staring blindly at his cell phone. He was afraid to call Allison, lest he scare her off again. The stunt he’d pulled at the movie theater had been a mistake, but it was one he would gladly make again. He wasn’t ashamed to let her know the gut-deep ache he felt for her.
When they’d kissed, her lips pressing hot against his had blown his mind. If that was the kind of heat and passion they generated with just a kiss, he was a goner. Unfortunately, her reaction made him think he needed to reassess what happened. Had he moved too quickly? Said something that unsettled her? Perhaps he’d lost out on the chance with a submissive because of his eagerness again.
Interest lost in the Hitchcock movies, he’d left five minutes after her hasty exit. The walk to his apartment had cleared his head a little, but certainly not as much as he wanted. She’d already infected his blood, m
aking it nearly impossible to stop thinking about her.
As he’d neared his loft, he’d detoured to the warehouse on the first level of the building. The choice to go to the room had been a huge mistake. He’d spotted the cuffs he’d recently purchased before the door had even slammed shut. The images of those magnificent pieces of leather were still burned on the back of his eyelids as his thumb stroked the face of the phone.
Some would probably call him crazy or say he had some kind of outlandish obsession. Especially because he felt this way about someone he barely knew. Others would say if he did manage to cultivate a relationship with her, she’d leave him in the dark once she discovered his preferences.
But he knew. He’d sensed her submissive nature the moment she’d stepped behind his counter. It nearly shouted at the dominant part of his personality, calling him to take her under his command. He’d never been wrong about this kind of thing before and he certainly wasn’t wrong now.
The cell phone vibrated in his palm. He wouldn’t need to seek her out after all. Allison had called him.
“Hello?” he asked, cautious in case she’d mistakenly dialed his number.
“Hi.” Her subdued voice made him swallow around the dryness constricting his throat. “I wanted to call to apologize for splitting.”
“You had to work, I understand. Did you take care of what you needed to?”
“Yes.” The line went silent for a few moments before she continued. “How was the rest of the festival? Are you sufficiently burnt out on the genius of Alfred Hitchcock?”
His light laughter filled the small stockroom. “I ended up leaving right after you. It didn’t seem right to be there having fun while you had to work.”
“My work is fun,” she protested.
He leaned back against the metal shelving unit holding rows of paper coffee cups while he used the opposite wall for balance. “Of course, I’d forgotten you’re one of those sadistic few who actually enjoy their job.”
