Kiss, Don't Tell (Devils in Disguise Book 1)
Page 8
He grins. “For what?”
“A date –,” I stop dead, annoyed at myself for stumbling into his trap so easily.
“That’s funny. I thought this was a… Working dinner, between two colleagues?”
Oh, I can play.
“Colleagues?” I smile, raising an eyebrow. “I wonder if HR would be interested in just how you… arranged our meeting?”
The waiter seats us.
“Touché, Miss Samuels,” Nate nods, “Touché.”
The dinner flashes by, without another mention of the letter. Almost – until the end. But Nate gets that look in his eye again, and I know exactly what it means. I can feel the alcohol warming me – but it’s a warning, too.
Nate isn’t the guy I thought he was. Well, he’s that guy too – cocky, confident, maybe even bordering on arrogant – but he’s so much more besides. He’s funny, kind, and charming, as well.
That’s why he’s so dangerous. I can feel him worming his way into my trust already. But I’ve been burned before. I can’t let it happen again.
“What did I say?” He asks.
I sit back in my chair. The buzz of conversation in the restaurant seems to fade away until it’s only us – really, only him. “Do you really need to ask?”
“Just give me a clue. Was it dirty?”
“I’m not sleeping with you tonight, Nate,” I answer flatly. No matter how much I want to.
“I didn’t ask.”
“No,” I shake my head, “I don’t suppose you would.”
“Cryptic.” He comments.
I’m a little drunk. I know I am. But I’ve had a good night, and I don’t want to ruin it. “Forget I said anything,” I say.
“If I promise,” Nate says with a broad grin on his face that says he’s not insulted in the slightest, “hand on heart, pinky swear, you name it, that I won’t try and sleep with you – can I ask you something, Kim?”
I close my eyes. If this is about that darn letter again, I swear…
“Will you share a cab back with me?”
11
Nate
My arm flings out, and a second later the neighborhood erupts in a cacophony of trumpeting car horns. A black London cab pulls a U-turn through two lanes of traffic to get to us.
I swear, if the driver pulls a trick like that with my Kim inside … Hell, I don’t know what I’d do. Scratch that; I’m such a liar. I do know.
I’d throw him through the goddamn windshield.
We climb in, and the first thing I do, after giving the driver our address, is kill the intercom. That’s my favorite thing about London cabs – the privacy. There’s a plate of glass between the pair of us and him, and that’s just the way I want it.
I wonder just how often he’s had to sit there with his hands on the steering wheel, ignoring horny couples petting each other in the back.
Kim tries to sit on the seat opposite, but I don’t let her. I grab her hand and pull her to my side. She’s cold at first, but it doesn’t take long before nestles into me. It’s like we are made to fit together. I stifle a grin. She can deny it all she likes, but I know she wants me as much as I want her.
“I had a good night. Thanks,” she says. “But you didn’t need to pay. I’m a big girl.”
I grin. “I told you, it was a working dinner. I’ll put it on my expense account.”
Kim sits bolt upright and jabs me in the ribs with her elbow. “What? Why would you dare do such a thing?” She exclaims.
She sounds like an upset schoolgirl. It’s all kinds of cute.
“What if someone at work sees my name? How do you think that’ll make me look? It’s bad enough –.”
“You’re pretty when you’re angry,” I grin. “You know that?”
Kim grimaces, but I can see it’s just her attempt at masking the smile that’s tickling her lips. No matter how hard she tries, she can’t hide the way she responds to my complements. She’s not used to them, I can tell. I can change that.
“Pretty ugly,” she jokes with an awkward laugh. It’s obvious that she’s deflecting. I don’t know why she can’t tell how beautiful I find her; or, if she can tell, then why she doesn’t believe me.
“No,” I growl, “pretty goddamn delicious. Seriously, Kim, I could eat you up right now, you know that?”
We flash past streetlamp after streetlamp. The light brushes against Kim’s cheeks, intermittently showing her widened eyes. Light, dark. Light, dark. Light, dark.
“Shut up,” Kim says in a thickened whisper. Her cheeks are flushed, and her breath catches every time she looks at me. “Stop talking like that, Nate.”
“Stop what?” I reply. I don’t know how to get it into Kim’s head. I want her. It’s that simple. I don’t care what she thinks about herself, or why. The girl I see is different.
“Stop this: these compliments. They’re making me –.”
“Uncomfortable?” I finish. I reach over and grab Kim’s chin. She tries to resist looking my way, but I push through it. She grudgingly meets my eyes, but not without a fight.
“Good,” I whisper. “I think it’s about time someone made you feel uncomfortable, don’t you?”
“Why?” She whispers back. I have to lean in to make out the word, but I don’t care. It gets me closer to her. Her breath smells like a mixture of strawberry cheesecake and dry white wine.
I want to kiss her. I hold off. This is the most delicate part of the hunt. One wrong move and I’ll scare her off.
“I think you’ve spent your whole life being comfortable, Kimberly Sawyers,” I say. “Your whole entire life –.”
“What the hell do you know about me, Nate Foster?” Kim bites back.
Her eyes flash with a fiery anger. I hide a smile. That’s exactly the kind of reaction I’m trying to provoke. I know – or at least, I suspect – that that’s the real Kim. I think the face she presents to the world is just an illusion. I don’t know if she is even aware of it herself.
“I know a lot, Kim,” I say, brushing her cheek with the backs of two fingers. Her eyelashes flutter. She’s fighting her confusing desire for me by using her well understood desire to be mad at me. It’s my job to make sure that the former comes out on top.
“Like what?” She spits, almost scornfully. I like it – her bite, her fire.
“Like you’ve lived your whole life in a box, haven’t you?” Kim blinks, taken aback by my directness. “You’ve spent your whole life trying not to tread on anyone’s toes. Go on. Tell me I’m wrong.”
Kim shoots me with a glance that threatens to scorch the skin on my cheeks, but she doesn’t fight what I’m saying. She couldn’t if she tried.
I stroke her cheek. “It must be tiring, picking the perfect path – getting your 4.0 GPA, your perfect job, your perfect life – but did you ever ask yourself whether that’s what you really wanted?”
Kim swallows hard. I know I’m on the right track. I just need to press a little harder.
“You could say this stuff to anyone,” she says. “It’s like a horoscope. It’s true of half the world.”
“But it’s doubly true of you, isn’t it?” I ask. “Tell me, Kim – are you happy?”
Kim shrinks away from me. I bite the inside of my lip. That wasn’t quite the reaction I was hoping for.
Or maybe…
Maybe it was. I can’t be sure. But the more time I spend in Kim’s presence, the less I find myself simply wanting to sleep with her, and the more…
“Is anyone?” She replies, eyes downcast.
… The more I want to be there for her. The more I want to help her find the better Kim that I know is already inside her.
“I think you know the answer to that, Kim,” I say, softening my voice. This isn’t the time to keep hitting her. It’s the time to offer her a helping hand. “Yes,” I murmur, answering her question and squeezing her hand. “With you around, how could I not be?”
I surprise myself with the truth in that statement. But I can’t deny
it. When she sits across from me, I find myself sitting up straighter. I walk taller. I’m happier.
That’s what makes this whole thing such a mess. I’m stuck between reminding myself that Kim’s just a mark, and knowing that she’s so much more.
Westminster Bridge flashes past, and I let the driver carry on a few minutes, while Kim stews.
“You don’t mean that,” Kim says unhappily. “I know what you’re doing. You’ll chew me up and spit me out. How many times have you done this before? To how many girls have you thrown these lines?”
“You know me that well, do you?” I say, stroking her thigh. I see the muscle clench, as if her first reaction is to push me away, but her chest flutters with pleasure.
“As well as you know me, apparently,” she says back, with a flash of that fire again. I grin.
“I guess that’s fair. I won’t deny that I like women, Kim,” I say. I walk my fingers up the inside of her thigh, starting at her knee.
“I won’t lie to you.” My fingers take another couple of steps. Kim flinches.
“But I’ve never left a woman unsatisfied, Kim,” I whisper, quickening my pace. “And I won’t leave you, either. That’s what you’re scared about, isn’t it?”
My fingers stroke the inside of her thigh, skin against skin. I can almost feel the heat radiating from between her legs. She swallows, and her breath comes out sparse and ragged.
“I –.”
“You’re worried that you won’t mean anything to me. Well, you’re wrong.” I walk up her thigh another inch, and she parts her legs. I’m just inches away now. I could stroke her there, and she wouldn’t fight me on it, I know.
She wants me to do it.
Kim wants me.
But I’m finding I want her perhaps a bit more. The truth is I’m beginning to feel something between my legs as well. I need her: tonight.
The black cab hits a pothole, and my palm jerks against Kim’s thigh. But the impact breaks the spell.
“Nate!” Kim hisses under her breath, panting hard. She elbows me in the ribs for good measure. “He’s right there.” She jerks her head at the driver. She’s uncomfortable. I like it.
My fingers dance another jig on her thigh. She bites her lip and catches her breath. I can’t tell whether that’s permission, or whether she’s going to push me away.
“I can fix that,” I whisper into her ear. I let my lips caress her earlobe, and she tilts her neck, just an inch, opening herself up to me.
My fingers brush the intercom button, and the light flickers on once more.
“You can pull over here.”
“You sure, mate?” The driver grunts. “Honestly, it’s not far. Besides, it’s a bit nippy out there…”
“I’m sure,” I reply firmly.
I need to get her alone. My Kim’s a good girl. With the driver sitting so close, she’ll always be on edge. But maybe a romantic walk down the bank of the river is exactly what she needs.
The black cab pulls up to the curb, and I help Kim out. She pulls her jacket tight to ward off the cold, and I offer her my arm. A party boat speeds down the river to our left, blaring out the latest club tunes.
“You mean it?”
Absolutely.
“Mean what? I promise you, Kim – I’m not lying to you.”
The irony of that statement hits me in the gut. I feel like such a prick. It’s true – partially. Nothing I’ve said to her has been a lie. Except, the longer I say nothing the more I lie by saying nothing at all.
“Mean that I…” She pauses, searching for the right word; or maybe she’s building up the courage to say it. “Mean something to you? That I’m not just another –.”
“Another lay?” I chuckle.
Kim glances down; she seems embarrassed by the direction the conversation has taken. I can’t help but wonder what she’ll be like in the sack. Maybe she’s one of those good girls with a very naughty side. I hope so.
“Yes.”
“Then I promise, Kim,” I say, stopping. We are only fifty yards from our Riverbank address. If this is happening, tonight, then I need to make it happen now.
“I promise I’m not playing you. You know how God damn horny I get when I’m around you?”
She flushes, and turns away with embarrassment.
I laugh. “I’m sorry to be crude, but it’s true: every word. All I would have to do tonight at dinner was think of how you’d look in my bed, a sheet pulled up –.”
“Nate!” Kim gasps.
I pull her into my body. My voice is hoarse with desire. Hell, that’s not the only part of me that’s affected. I’m burning up with my desire for her.
I’m going to kiss her, now.
“Come on,” she whispers, “I’m cold.” She pulls away, and starts walking towards the apartment building. My fist bunches up in frustration. I’ve never had to work so hard to kiss a girl before.
I know she knows exactly what’s about to happen. She’s scared, I get that; but if I don’t kiss her right now, I think I might explode.
I catch up to Kim, but she looks studiously ahead. She quickens her pace, and we eat up the spare yards to the glass lobby of Riverbank Tower in a tense silence.
“Wait,” I say with desperation. I have a feeling that once we’re inside, showered by the bright lights of the lobby, any chance I have of getting her into my bed – hell, of even just stealing a kiss – will disappear like Cinderella’s wealth of finery at the stroke of midnight.
Kim turns to face me, but her fists are clenched, too. She bites her lip, as if she’s in the midst of some titanic internal struggle.
“I can’t, Nate…” She whispers, turning away from me and disappearing inside.
I’m left on my heels, wondering where the hell I went wrong.
“Fuck…” I groan into the stillness of the night. I fish a penny from the pocket of my overcoat and throw it as far into the river as I can. It disappears without a trace into the blackness.
When I walk through the lobby, the concierge looks at me, and barely stifles his grin. I don’t react. I need to get somewhere private, now. I’m not angry, just confused …
… And horny…
… Very, very horny.
I’m glad for the overcoat wrapped around me, because it disguises the not inconsiderable bulge at my crotch.
I don’t usually get like this. Then again, women don’t usually turn me down. I thought for sure I had her tonight. I worked her body until it must have been vibrating with tension.
I saw the way Kim jerked when I touched her. I felt the heat of her skin. I heard the way her breath juddered in her chest. Her deep blue eyes were half open, flickering closed, and glazed with lust.
She wanted me just as badly as I wanted her.
The whiskey bottle is where I left it, next to my laptop. It’s becoming a permanent fixture in my life. Every time Kim pushes me away, I reach for the bottle. It’s not the same thing.
I wonder what she’s doing.
I pour myself a tumbler full of the amber spirit, and knock back a mouthful. My back slides down the kitchen counter, until my ass meets the cold marble tiles. They do nothing to chill the desire burning inside me.
I can find out.
“Jesus, Nate, that’s fucked up,” I groaned, “even for you…”
But it’s too late. The idea is in my head. My hands are already moving. They meet the plastic of my laptop, and bring it down to my body.
“You don’t have to do this,” I say to thin air, “it’s not too late.”
I am so not stopping the fuck now. I fire up the monitoring program, feeling scummy every second. But the heat of desire burns that feeling away in seconds.
I feel like it’s one of those moments where you find yourself in a bar. You know you shouldn’t be thinking about taking home the person you’re looking at, but a combination of alcohol and desire pushes that rational thought to the back of your mind.
“I click: “Camera Feeds.”
I check the living room view. It’s dark: nothing.
“She’s probably in bed,” I mutter, “where you should be.”
The mouse cursor hovers over the button marked “bedroom.” I try and stop myself clicking it, but I’m fighting a losing battle.