Here, things varied a little. If he was facing the air conditioning unit and the breeze was flattening the thin cotton against his muscles, my gaze would do the same. It would skim up his body, molding the black material into every crease and valley of him, and I’d imagine I was doing the same thing with my cheek, feeling the heat of him through the cloth as I stroked each hard ridge.
Sometimes, though, the breeze would catch his tank top in just the right way and it would balloon away from his body for a second, an inviting dark tunnel that, if I just so happened to be crouching down beside one of the plants for a second and looked up in just the right way, let me catch a glimpse of his abs. Then my gaze would go up under the cloth, fueled by my imagination, and I’d be able to almost feel his body under my palms as they slid upward, moving slower and slower, hitting each hard band of muscle like a note on a rising piano scale. I’d imagine it all so vividly that I could actually feel the tight fabric against the backs of my arms as I slid my hands higher, until my palms were smoothing over his pecs and I had to stand so close to him that my breasts were brushing his body. And then his arms would suddenly lock around me, his hands on my ass, and—
And then I’d look away and redden, the heat throbbing through me. A moment later, he’d be gone, back in the Mustang before the engine had even cooled. The memories, though, would stay with me the rest of the day and the combination of the sweltering heat outside and the dark heat inside left me practically rubbing myself against the furniture. I’d never felt anything like it. I’d thought I’d been addicted before, but now I was in full-on withdrawal.
I wanted him. Before, that had been a secret, shameful admission to myself and it had felt like a safe little fantasy because, obviously, no way would he want me. The biggest thing I was risking, by lusting after him, was humiliation if he found out. But ever since the nearly-kiss, things were different. Now I knew that there was a real risk of something happening. He could obviously control his feelings: for now, he was keeping his distance...but if he figured out how much I wanted him….
He could grab me in the time it took to blink.
He could push me up against the wall without effort. He could lift me off the ground and hold me there while he stripped every stitch of clothing from my body. I could kick and struggle all I liked, but I wouldn’t be able to escape...and I wouldn’t want to.
That was the scariest thing: not that he’d lose control, but that I would. It was so, so, tempting to look at that hard body and those cobalt-blue eyes and to think of him as a normal guy. And then I’d remember where he was going, when he drove off. I’d think of that whole world he belonged to, the one I’d worked so hard to keep Kayley and me away from. A cold, dark world, with sickeningly strong gravity that pulls in anyone who gets too close. I was already flying way, way closer than I should, drawn in by its promise of quick money. As long as it was just business, I told myself that I could still break away. But once I let Sean into my life, once I let the darkness wrap itself around every inch of my body and invade me...then, there’d be no escaping it. I was going to be drawn down by that world’s gravity and crash. And neither I nor Kayley would ever get back to our world again.
I had to stay the hell away from him. I closed my eyes for a moment, drilling that into myself.
When I opened my eyes again, he was standing there, the door still swinging closed behind him. He was breathing hard, as if he’d almost run up to the house, but now he wasn’t moving at all.
He’d stopped as soon as he saw me.
We stared at each other and for a moment the only things that moved were our chests as we took slow, shuddering gulps of that oven-hot air. Then he stalked closer, lithe as a jungle cat, and my breathing got faster with every step he took. He slammed his hands down on the table between us and I flinched, even as the sudden nearness of him sent a surge of excitement through my body.
“We have a problem,” he growled.
Sean
I hadn’t known what I was going to do, the whole way over there. Four times, I’d turned off down side streets and started to head home...but every time, I’d cursed and changed my mind and steered back towards the grow house. Even as I was getting out of the car, I had no idea what I was planning, once I got inside.
Then I smelled it, and suddenly I had an excuse to be there. It was almost a relief, despite how serious the problem was.
“It’s the plants,” I told her. “I can smell them from outside. Fuck, you can smell them halfway down the block!”
Louise looked around her. Seeing those big green eyes blink in bewilderment made my chest ache—God, she looked so innocent! “I don’t...I mean, sure, they smell, but not that much…”
“You’ve gotten used to it,” I told her. “You’re here too often. You don’t realize it, but it reeks in here...and outside.”
She pressed her lips together and nodded. Then, before she answered, she licked her lips. I wasn’t ready for how that sent a jolt of electricity straight to my cock. I glanced away, afterimages of that quick, pink tongue playing over and over in my mind. “What do we do?” she asked.
“Filters,” I managed. “We need charcoal filters over the air vents.” I sighed and ran my hand over my face. “I knew we would. I kept meaning to do it, but…” But I haven’t been around enough. I was meant to be protecting her. What if one of the neighbors had smelled the scent and tipped off the police? “I didn’t think we’d need it yet,” I said, then waved at the plants. “They’ve grown so fast, this month…” I did everything I could to avoid her eyes, but somehow wound up looking at her anyway. “Good job.”
“Thanks,” she said. A breathy little whisper that drove me absolutely insane. Fuck, she looked so right standing there, surrounded by plants. Like a farmer’s wife raising her crop, all good and pure and natural. She was wearing some skimpy little barely-there top, just a couple of bootlaces and a few handfuls of pink fabric that put the whole top of her breasts on display, creamy and ripe and rising with each breath...fuck it, was she trying to make me lose it?
“I’ll go to the store,” I said. “I can have it all set up in an hour.”
She nodded, but neither of us moved. The thick, pungent scent of the weed seemed to hang in coils around us: every breath was full of it. And it was hot, too. The combination of the smell and the heat and Louise in that top...and the place was so private, every window covered, no one watching what we did. It felt like an opium den or a Parisian brothel, temptation inevitable unless I left right now.
“You want to see?” she asked. Her eyes seemed bigger than normal, her pupils huge. “You want to see what I’ve been doing?” I could hear the timid pride in her voice. She’d spent all these weeks working, I realized, and there was no one in the world she could share her achievement with, no one to give her praise...except me.
I swallowed and went to say, no. But nothing came out. And then she was beckoning me closer, walking away from me towards the corner of the room and—
Fuck.
I hadn’t seen it when she was standing behind the table, but she was wearing cut-off denim shorts that hugged the lush curves of her ass, the frayed edges teasing at her skin, inviting me to feel just how soft and smooth and warm it was. Without any conscious effort, my legs carried me after her. The plants were so big, now, that there wasn’t much room between the tables. She slipped easily through the gaps, but my shoulders brushed through the leaves on either side as I passed. Everything was so soft and green and delicate and I was so big—I was scared I was going to break something.
She brushed her hands through the leaves of a plant. To me, it looked just like all the others, but she said, “This one? This is going to be the best of all of them.”
She bent slightly at the waist to look closer, and I caught my breath as her ass thrust out towards me and a narrow slice of skin opened up between the bottom of her top and the top of her shorts. I’d never thought someone’s back could be sexy. But Louise’s lower back, smooth and archi
ng and glistening just a little with the heat...that was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. My hands twitched with the need to run them straight up under her top, my thumbs pressing either side of her spine, my fingers wrapped around to stroke her sides. All the way up…and then my thoughts grew darker, imagining her on all fours in front of me, my cock disappearing between her thighs as I drew her back onto me.
“I got the mix just right,” said Louise, jolting me back to reality. “This is our yardstick, now. Look how big the leaves are. Feel them.”
I blinked and swallowed, my eyes flicking from that entrancing crescent of skin to the plant.
“Feel them,” she insisted. And she suddenly grabbed my hand.
I caught my breath at the feel of her smooth, cool skin against my calloused fingers. She was so delicate, next to me: it took two of her slender fingers to equal one of mine. I had to step closer, as she drew my hand towards the plant, until the hard bulge of my cock in my pants was almost brushing her thrust-out ass. And she was completely unaware, of course. God, how did she do this to me? How could a blonde in some bar work her body all over me, giving me a full-on clothed lap dance, and I’d mentally shrug, but Louise could have me hard as a rock just from being close? Even over the heady smell of the plants, I could still detect the soft, clean scent of her, natural and magical. I wanted to bury my face in her and breathe nothing else.
“See?” said Louise, drawing my unresisting hand through the leaves. “It’s not just the color, or the shape. They feel healthy.” She turned to me and bit her lip guiltily and I damn near lost it. “I know it sounds dumb. It’s hard to describe, but...can you feel it?”
“Umm-hmm,” I grated.
She must have heard something in my voice because her eyes locked with mine and she let go of my hand. She slowly straightened up, turning to face me as she did so. Everything else in the world ceased to exist: all I knew about were those big green eyes as they came closer and closer and her sigh as she exhaled. All that red hair was spilling down over her shoulders like gleaming, liquid copper and I’ve never wanted to run my fingers through something so bad.
My hands hurt. I realized I was digging my nails into my palms to keep from grabbing her.
“I don’t know about this stuff,” I told her. I could hear the hoarseness in my voice, like I’d just sprinted a mile. “But...they look good.” I took in those moss-green eyes, the soft lips that drove me crazy. “They look really good.”
She nodded.
“Now I’ve got to go to the store,” I told her, each word a Herculean effort.
She nodded again. And...was there a hint of sadness in her eyes? Disappointment?
I turned away and forced myself to walk towards the door. I was almost there, almost safe, when she called out to me. “Wait! I almost forgot—I got you something.”
I spun to face her, mad as hell. Didn’t she realize what she was doing to me?
“It’s...outside,” she said in a small voice, jerking her thumb at the back door.
Outside. Outside where there was air, and there were people. Outside, nothing could happen. I nodded quickly, crossed the room and flung open the door.
Air. Good, clean, fresh, wholesome air. In the shadow cast by the house, it was blessedly cool. After the stifling house, it was like jumping into a mountain lake. I knew I couldn’t just stand there with the door open, not with the reek of grass flooding out, so I stepped forward to let Louise out behind me. I heard her shut the door and then I slowly turned around to face her. With every breath, my mind was clearing. I figured that, out here, everything would be okay.
But when I faced her again, I had a new problem. It was easier to hold back the lust but hiding beneath that had been something even stronger. God, she was beautiful. And then she made it worse. She bent down and picked up a plant from beside the door, holding it out towards me. “It’s for you,” she told me. “It’s a rose.” She looked at it shyly. “I figured you’d want something...y’know. Manly and covered in thorns. And it’s Irish. Irish Blood, they call it. Made me think of you.”
I stared at it. This was the last thing I’d expected. It was bad enough that she was a constant fucking temptation, but...was she being nice to me?!
“I’ve got no idea what to do with this,” I mumbled.
“That’s because no one’s taken the time to teach you.”
This was different. This wasn’t like the simple battle between my need to fuck her and my need to protect her. We’d suddenly moved into a whole new and unfamiliar arena. “Umm…” I said. But I couldn’t think of a bloody thing to say to get out of there without hurting her feelings. Normally, I’d just get angry. But every time I reached for my anger, those big green eyes made it slip away.
“C’mon,” she said, and knelt down on the grass, next to a patch of dirt.
I knelt slowly down facing her, my body dwarfing hers. The ground was pleasantly cool against my knees. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d sat on grass. And the ground wasn’t dusty and dry, here, it was soft and even a little damp. She’d found a good growing spot, even in the middle of this hellhole of a neighborhood.
“Dig a hole,” she told me. She reached behind her. “I brought a trowel, or—”
I shoved my hands into the bare dirt between us, forcing my way through the soft earth until they were wrist-deep, then pushing them outward. An image swum into my mind: my hands pushing her pale thighs apart in just the same way.
“...or you could just use your hands,” said Louise, her eyes huge.
Being outside hadn’t cooled my lust at all. It had just brought everything into sharp focus. And the way she was treating me was defusing my anger, the only thing that had helped to keep me in check.
“Now take the plant,” she said, holding it out towards me. “Careful of the thorns.”
I gazed past it, straight into her eyes. “I can’t do this,” I muttered.
“Yes you can,” she said, her voice growing softer. Then, “I believe you can.”
This is stupid. This is fucking stupid, just get the thing in the ground and get out of here. I grabbed the stem in my fist, not caring about the thorns that stabbed into my flesh, and slammed the roots into the hole. My whole body had gone tense, every muscle quivering—
But suddenly, Louise was beside me, her hand between my shoulders. All the tension eased away—however much I tried to cling onto it.
“Cover up the roots,” she told me. “Gently.”
I bulldozed the piles of dirt inward with my palms until the hole was filled.
“Pat it down a little,” she whispered. Her mouth was almost at my ear, each word tickling.
I put my palms on the mound of soil and patted at it, feeling stupid. But then her cool hands were on top of mine, the smooth softness of them sliding over my knuckles, and my patting died away. And then we were just kneeling there, me like a hulking beast and her like some foolish maiden wrapped around me, her red hair blowing against my cheek, her hanging breast brushing my side.
I need to get angry. I need to get angry right now.
“It’s okay,” she breathed, so softly I wondered if I was imagining it.
I told myself that she couldn’t possibly understand, that she had no fucking idea what was inside me. But then she said, “See? You can grow stuff. Instead of just tearing it down.”
And her hand slid down my back to the place where the scars were.
Suddenly, my anger came back, a flash of heat that filled my whole body. I grabbed her wrist and wrenched, tossing her over onto her back and, before I even knew what I was doing, I was on top of her, my knee between her legs. “What are you doing?” I yelled. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Her eyes were big and liquid, but she was staring up at me in defiance. She was scared as hell, but trying to put up a front. “I just want to help you,” she panted.
“I don’t need your help!” I yelled. “It’s me helping you! There’s nothing wrong with me!”
; We stared at each other, both of us breathing in ragged gasps. I knew she must be terrified. I wanted her to be terrified, because then she’d stop.
“Stay away from me,” I told her. “Or I’ll—”
I stared into her eyes...and I couldn’t say the words. Not even for her sake. I couldn’t so much as think about doing her harm.
“No you won’t,” she whispered.
My hands were flat on the ground on either side of her head. I felt my fingers claw into the dirt. “You don’t want this,” I told her.
She took two big, shuddering gulps. “Yes I do.”
The look in her eyes, the concern she had for me, siphoned off the last of my precious anger. And then I lost control completely, leaned down and kissed her.
Louise
I’d had the rose stashed away out back for days in the hope he’d show up, watering both it and the ground to keep it all ready for him. I’d just wanted to do something nice for him, to apologize for asking about the scars. Then, when he’d been about to walk out, when I thought of him getting in his car and driving back to that world of violence....
I couldn’t let him go.
I’d watched myself kneeling down on the grass with him and touching his back, like putting my head between a lion’s jaws. I’d screamed at myself not to do it. But the need to help him, to find that man he used to be, the one someone had cruelly scarred, was too strong.
And now I was facing the consequences.
It was a brutal, hard kiss, his strong lips mashing down on my softly panting mouth, a kiss that forced me open and damn well took me whether I wanted it or not.
Growing and Kissing Page 12
