by Noelle Adams
“I’ve always known you were beautiful, but it’s only recently that I realized it went farther than that.”
“I’m sorry, Caleb, but I just don’t buy it.”
“Do you think I’m making this up? I’m not just feeling harmless, romantic urges toward you. I’ve been suffering from almost debilitating lust for you for weeks.”
He said it matter-of-factly, as if it were a normal part of conversation. Marissa blushed hotly, although she was already so flushed from the heat of the fire that she doubted Caleb would be able to tell the difference.
“I don’t mean I don’t believe how you feel now,” she answered, managing to sound surprisingly calm. “I mean I don’t believe you ever thought I was beautiful before.”
“Well, why the hell not?”
“Because you never acted on it.”
“Yeah. I don’t know how to explain it. I think it was partly habit and partly denial. I just got into the pattern of not thinking about you sexually, so I convinced myself that I never could. But once that pattern was broken…” He trailed off and his eyes took on a hot look for the first time all night. He finished, “It was really broken.”
She blushed again, more deeply this time. “I guess it sort of worked the same for me too.”
He reached over to lift her chin so she would meet his eyes. “So your pattern of thinking about me has been broken too?”
He looked almost hopeful, which made her feel terrified and fluttery both.
“Yeah. Maybe not in exactly the same way. I’m not at the debilitating lust stage. But I can’t seem to think of anything but you.”
He was trying—failing—to repress a pleased grin. “I’ll take that. The debilitating lust can come later.”
She couldn’t help but laugh.
They sat gazing at each other in happy stupidity until their meals arrived. The server came and set a dish in front of each of them and then hurried off to see to another table.
They both stared at the food in front of them. In Marissa’s plate were large helpings of meatloaf and mashed potatoes. In Caleb’s, an enormous salad.
Which wasn’t what either of them had ordered.
Caleb frowned irritably and spent a couple of minutes getting their server’s attention again. The woman apologized profusely and took the plates away, but then they had to wait fifteen more minutes before their real orders arrived.
Caleb was looking quite peeved with the whole situation when his steak and Marissa’s salmon were brought over to them by the apologetic manager.
Swallowing a forkful of salmon, Marissa tried not to giggle at his obvious annoyance.
The food was actually quite tasty. But, by the times she was through with her meal, she felt scorched from the blaze of the fire. It was ceaselessly blasting them with more heat, and perspiration trickled down her neck under her hair. Random tendrils stuck to her damp face, and her top felt glued to her skin.
Caleb appeared to be suffering just as much. His face was flushed, and she could see sweat beading on his forehead and the sides of his face.
He finally glared at the crackling fireplace and burst out, “It feels like hell in here! What possessed them to light a fire tonight?”
Marissa gave a relieved giggle, glad to have this source of discomfort out in the open. “I’m roasting. I’ve been sweating since we sat down.”
“Maybe this wasn’t the best choice for dinner after all.”
“It’s fine,” she assured him, something about his perturbed face making her feel even flutterier. “The food was good. Once we got the right orders. No reason the dining experience has to be perfect.”
Just then the twin boys started screaming again. One had a large glass of ice tea in his hands, which was slopping down the rim as he ran. The other one was chasing his brother, brandishing a soup ladle like a sword.
“What do you want to bet that drink ends up in somebody’s lap?” Caleb murmured dryly.
“No bet.” She watched, highly diverted by the boys’ antics. They barely missed tripping up a waiter balancing five different plates. “I wonder what he's pretending the drink is.”
She glanced over at Caleb’s face and got a little mushy at his expression as he watched the boys.
As soon as he looked back over at her, she quickly hid her tender regard. Caleb opened his mouth to say something—probably insist that children were a pain in the ass—but he never got the words out.
There was another scream from one of the boys, but this time it was from much closer to their table. When they turned toward the sound, it was too late to react.
The boy crashed right into Caleb’s chair.
The large glass of ice tea emptied in Caleb’s lap.
He leapt out of his chair with a reflexive roar of shock and discomfort. His pants were soaking wet to his knees, and the lower half of his shirt was too.
He glared down at the culprit in outrage.
The little boy cowered, whimpering and then starting to cry. “I’m sorry,” he babbled, leaning over to pick up the empty glass, as if that was going to fix his dilemma.
Caleb’s face had been indignant, but it immediately softened at the boy’s obvious fear. “No problem. I needed to cool down anyway.”
The little fellow bawled all the way back to his mother.
Marissa tried not to laugh. She really did. But Caleb’s face was just too funny, and he was holding out his wet hands in disgust.
“It’s not funny,” he complained. “Look at me. That kid just spilled a whole damn drink on my lap.”
“I know. You should have seen your face when you jumped up.”
He sneered and tried to look dignified, which was quite a feat under these circumstances.
The manager came running over to see if there was anything he could do to help.
Caleb just handed the man his credit card and didn’t bother to sit down again. “At least it cooled me off a little,” he muttered, staring resentfully at the fire. “So now only my face is scorching. The rest of me is wet.”
This was Marissa’s complete undoing. She howled with laughter and couldn’t stop until Caleb had signed the receipt and they’d left.
It was very pleasant along the river, and Caleb suggested they take a little walk before they got back in the car. “Give my pants some time to dry.”
There wasn’t much around once they got past the restaurant and the few surrounding shops, so it soon felt like they were alone in the world. They didn’t talk much. And didn’t touch. Just strolled quietly, wrapped up in their own thoughts.
Marissa enjoyed the peace and thought about how nice it was that she and Caleb knew each other so well that they didn’t have to talk all the time.
It was a fairly warm night, but it was completely overcast. So no moon. No stars. And only dim light to see Caleb’s face beside her.
“Thanks for dinner,” she said eventually, wanting to hear his voice again.
“Some dinner. I’m sorry it wasn’t that great.”
“It was fine. I enjoyed it.” She had enjoyed it. Far more than she’d expected.
“I would have preferred our first date to have made a better impression.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be cheesy and romantic, remember? We’re not talking about sentimental perfection here.” Marissa moved closer to him so that her arm brushed against his. “It was better this way.”
“How exactly is this better?” His voice still sounded slightly grouchy.
She reached out and pulled the wet lower half of his shirt away from his skin so it wouldn’t stick quite so much. She was a little embarrassed by her feelings, but she wanted to be honest with him, since he was being so honest with her.
So she said, “Well, if you must know, everything that’s happened tonight has made me feel even more warm and fuzzy about you.” She stared at his chest so she wouldn’t have to look up at his face while she spoke.
Warm and fuzzy didn’t do her feelings justice. She wanted to hug him. Rub
against him. Melt into him somehow so they could be as close as possible.
His voice was astounded. “Seriously?”
“And I know I wouldn’t have felt that way if we’d had a picture-perfect first date.” She finally found the courage to look up at him, and she lost her breath at the expression in his eyes.
Reaching out to take her face in his hands, Caleb caressed her cheeks with his thumbs. “Just how warm and fuzzy are you feeling?”
Very, very warm and fuzzy. He was so handsome, so dear, so familiar, so sweet beneath his cool exterior. “Very,” she whispered, her belly tightening.
He leaned down toward her just slightly.
Marissa instinctively leaned up into him.
His face was intense, irresistible, and his eyes were like soft, flashing pools in the dim light.
For the first time in her life, Marissa wanted him to kiss her.
She was pretty sure he would have, too. Had it not started raining.
It started as a pleasant sprinkle of cooling raindrops. Then the clouds burst.
They both jumped in surprise and automatically started to run toward the car, but the car was at least a half a mile away, and after thirty seconds they both were drenched.
The heel of Marissa’s shoe turned, and she jerked to a stop. “Caleb,” she called. “Forget it. Why run? We’re already soaked.”
“Damn it,” he grumbled, shaking himself off like a wet dog and coming over to stand beside her. “Why can’t anything go smoothly tonight?”
His clothes were plastered to his skin, and water poured down his face and stuck his hair to his skin.
He looked absolutely adorable.
“Well, at least you don’t have to worry about having ice tea spilled on your pants anymore.” She lifted her foot to check on her heel.
“Did you hurt yourself?” he asked, his voice changing as she fiddled with her ankle.
“No. These just aren’t ideal shoes to run in. How about we walk the rest of the way to the car?”
“Agreed.” They started back more slowly, sloshing in the puddles, water pounding down on their heads. His hand moved to her back in a supportive gesture that Marissa found surprisingly reassuring.
They didn’t talk much and eventually reached his parked car. “I don’t suppose you have any towels in your trunk,” she said, looking at the posh interior with a cringe.
He shook his head glumly, water spraying off his face as he did. “The entire evening is turning out to be a disaster.”
He appeared so sincerely annoyed that Marissa reached for his wet shirt and pulled him closer to her. “I thought we covered this before. I liked this evening, rain and all.”
“Only you would like an evening that could be classified as nothing short of a catastrophe.”
“Then it’s a good thing you’re with me and not anyone else.”
He laughed, and somehow his hands ended up on her face again. He carefully pushed her wet hair away from her cheeks and eyes, and then kept smoothing it back, as if he couldn’t stop.
Marissa tried to see his face clearly, but the raindrops kept getting in her eyes. So she had to keep blinking them away. Figured she looked like an idiot.
“God, you’re so beautiful, Marissa,” he breathed, looking at her drenched face with something like awe.
Still clutching at his shirt, she gulped, but made herself say flippantly, “Now I know you’re lying to me. I look like a wet mop.”
He shook his head and caressed her wet cheeks, his thumb gliding over her lips. “How did I go years without seeing it?”
Part of Marissa wanted to pull away, protect herself from his deep gaze, his tender touch. But the other part of her wanted to get even closer to him, wanted to hear him talk that way to her—see him look at her like that—all night. And longer. Never wanted him to stop.
She found herself leaning into him, and, when he tilted up her face, she was convinced that she was going to get the kiss that had been interrupted earlier.
But then he let go of her face abruptly, his expression suddenly tense.
She made a little noise in response—of surprise and disappointment. She hadn’t quite lost her wits, though, so she managed to make a joke. “Is there something you’d like to tell me about why you always find me most attractive when I’m wet?”
He chuckled, and they got into the car, soaking the seats completely. It was an uncomfortable ride back, and they didn’t talk much. So Marissa used the time to figure out why Caleb had pulled back. Why he hadn’t kissed her.
When they reached her apartment again, she’d figured it out.
He was trying so hard to be good. Trying to be a gentleman. To take things slowly as she’d requested. He’d obviously wanted to kiss her back by the river—twice. But he was afraid of moving too fast and scaring her off.
It was sweet, but he just didn’t understand.
Sex was the issue with her. Not kissing. Kissing wasn’t like sex at all.
And she wanted to kiss Caleb. Wanted to be close to him in that way. Wanted the intimate connection that could only come from a kiss.
So she made up her mind as they walked down the hall to her door. Hoped she would find the courage to follow through with it.
“Do you want to come in?” she asked as she pulled out her keys.
“I better not. You’re looking far too irresistible in those wet clothes. I know we’re going slow, but there’s no use in torturing myself.”
She glanced down at her body and swallowed hard as she saw the lines of her breasts and the firm peaks of her nipples clearly visible through the thin, wet material. Her skirt was glued to her thighs, no longer masking the curves of her hips.
She was so distracted by this that they had said goodbye before she recovered her momentum. Caleb had actually turned around and taken a step back down the hall.
Afraid she was going to miss her chance, she said, “Caleb!”
When he turned back, she stepped over and grabbed his head between her hands. Hauled his face down and claimed his lips.
She was immensely relieved when he returned the kiss immediately. She wasn’t sure how she would have managed if she’d had to make the kiss work on her own, after being out of practice for so long.
His lips moved against hers gently at first, until Marissa slipped her tongue out and traced the line of his mouth. He released a soft groan and slid one hand down to her hips. The fingers of his other hand tangled into her wet hair.
And Marissa felt like she was going to either melt or burst open. Or both. She clutched at his head, and her tongue somehow ended up in his mouth. It glided over his teeth and the roof of his mouth, then tangled with his tongue. As the sensations rushed over her, she forgot everything except Caleb—his mouth, his hands, his body, which was hard and warm despite his wet clothes.
She pressed her body up against his, wanting to feel all of him against her. Unfortunately, that meant she was able to feel how aroused he’d become from their embrace.
She had one brief moment of panic as she pushed into it, but she managed not to totally freak out. She eased away from his pelvis slightly, but she didn’t let go of his head.
Breathing deeply, he pulled his mouth away but left his forehead resting against hers. “Okay?” he asked softly. His breath was warm on her skin.
“Yeah.” She pressed another soft kiss on his lips, then found herself smiling against his mouth. “That was a nice kiss.” She couldn't help but snicker at the irony of the situation.
His hand stroked through her hair, and he hadn’t yet pulled his forehead away. “A very nice kiss. So do you want to tell me why you’re laughing?”
She pulled her face away and gave him a hug. “Because you’re Caleb. My best friend. And I was just kissing you, and it was really, really good. It just struck me as funny.”
He returned her hug, laughing as well now. Gave her one more brief kiss on the lips. Then said, “And now I really better go. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Squealed out of pure giddiness.
Twelve
As he walks down the hall toward the elevator, Caleb hears Marissa shut the door to her apartment, signaling that their first date is over.
Just as well. He’s too turned on from the sight of her in her wet clothes and their kiss anyway. Not throbbing or painful yet—just uncomfortably hard.
Had their date stretched on any longer, his arousal would only have gotten worse.
He’s waiting for the elevator to arrive when he hears a door open. Then a voice. “Caleb! Please come back.”
His heart starts to pound furiously, and he walks back to find Marissa standing in her doorway. He looks at her questioningly, his body tensing at the unfamiliar, hot look in her eyes.
“I don’t want you to leave,” she whispers, taking a step back into her apartment.
Caleb follows her.
He shuts the door behind him and turns to see her backed up against a wall of her entryway. She’s breathing heavily and deeply flushed. He steps over and cups her warm face in his hands. “We’re taking it slow, right?” he asks, holding himself back until he knows.
She shakes her head, her damp hair curling in messy tendrils around her face. “I don’t want to take it slow anymore. I want you now.”
With a low groan, he sinks into her lips, using his tongue to tease gently until she opens for him. His hands trace over her damp, clinging clothes, feeling the soft curves beneath them.
She arches against the wall as his hands close over her breasts. Then she clutches at his shoulders, her eyes closing as she loses herself in the sensations.
Caleb moves his mouth to her ear, tugging on the lobe with this teeth before he murmurs, “Should I take you to bed then?”
“Not to bed,” she gasps, rocking rhythmically into his erection. “Here. Now. Caleb, take me. I need you now.”
But he doesn’t want to take her yet. It’s been so long since she's done this, and this is such a big step. Although his body aches for her, his heart aches too. He wants to make sure that it’s good for her. That she’s ready.
So he caresses his way down her body until he’s kneeling on the hard floor in front of her.
