When Riot came back into the kitchen he walked past me to grab the glasses and looked at me expectantly. “I’ll carry these if you grab the plates.”
“All right.” This was all going a little too well; it was feeling a little too easy. I followed him down the hall and as he sat on one side of the couch, I sat down on the other.
“Here you go,” he said, sliding a glass my way, then picking up his pizza and taking a bite.
I sat on the couch, eating my pizza, waiting for something to happen; for Marcus to realize there was a stranger in the house and throw a tantrum, for Riot to decide he actually wanted nothing to do with my brother and me, that we were too much to take on. But both of those boys just sat there, watched TV, and ate their pizza. I gave myself a mental shoulder shrug, and decided to try and relax.
“Are you using a fork?” Riot’s voice called me out of my haze.
“Um, yes?”
“Who eats pizza with a fork?”
“Kalli does,” Marcus piped up. “She’s weird about some stuff. Always eats pizza with a fork.” He didn’t turn to look at Riot while he spoke, but the humor in his voice was apparent.
“I don’t like pizza grease all over my fingers,” I said in my own defense.
“She’s also a half-drinker,” Marcus supplied.
“A half-drinker?” Riot questioned with a laugh.
“Yeah, she only drinks half of whatever she has. She’ll never finish an entire can of soda. She always leaves it half full.”
“Okay, well, that’s true,” I admit, shrugging. “There are exceptions to that rule though. Coffee and beer,” I say, lifting my glass to my lips with a smile. “Can’t waste either of those.”
“Huh,” Riot said, just before taking another huge bite, sounding like he’d just tucked a little piece of information away about me, as if he put it in his pocket to pull out later and think about.
“If you used a fork, your pizza might last you more than three bites,” I said, laughing at him.
He looked puzzled. “Pizza isn’t a delicate food, babe. You’re supposed to eat it with your hands and without napkins. It’s best that way.”
My eyes widened at his term of endearment, my gaze shooting over to Marcus, waiting for him to react, but he didn’t. I raised my eyebrows at Riot in warning, but all he did was take another giant bite, all while smiling.
After we’d all had our fill of pizza, Riot asked Marcus about his Wii and then I watched as the boys played two hours of Mario Kart. For a while, I stayed close, making sure Marcus was comfortable. But after forty-five minutes of Riot gently probing him with questions about school, how he spent his free time, and endless superhero comparisons, I began to think that they would be fine on their own for a while.
I stood and started cleaning up our mess from dinner, which led to me doing the rest of the dishes left over from the day, which sparked my interest in the laundry. Before I knew it, an hour had passed and the boys had been alone the whole time. I walked back into the living room to find them both in the exact position I’d left them in, only both looked much more relaxed and they were laughing loudly.
“Hey,” I said during a lull in their laughter. Riot’s head turned to me, as did Marcus’, and I couldn’t help but laugh at their matching expressions. They both looked a little frazzled and a smidge irritated that I’d interrupted their game. “Marky, you’ve got half an hour until you need to get ready for bed.”
His shoulders slumped but he turned back to the game with an, “All right.” I spent the next thirty minutes sitting on the couch, watching as the two boys played their video game. Riot was surprisingly good with him, congratulating Marcus when he won a round, not being terribly obnoxious when he lost. It was a new feeling to see Marcus with a man, besides Mr. Bob, and having fun. There had been so many instances in the past where new experiences and changes in routine had thrown him over some proverbial edge. But Marcus seemed to really take to Riot.
When his bedtime approached, Marcus politely said goodnight to Riot.
“There’s a new game coming out next month and you can use characters from your favorite movies in the game. Kalli said that she’d get it for me. You should come back and we could play it together.”
“Sure thing, buddy. Sounds great.” Riot clapped Marcus on the shoulder and we watched as he headed down the hallway toward his bedroom. Riot turned to me with a smile, eyes gleaming.
“He’s a good kid.”
“He is,” I agreed. “You were smart to go the video game route.”
“I used to play a mean Mario Kart. It was like riding a bike.” He stood up from the floor and came to sit by me on the couch, closer than we had been earlier, and his smile changed from amused to sultry. My heart quickened at this new smile and his closer proximity. He turned his body and faced me, still smiling, still making my breath hitch. His hand at the back of the couch reached up and gently fingered a tendril of my hair, twirling it around, pulling tenderly, then tucking it back behind my ear, making every part of my body tingle. “What was your favorite thing to do as a kid?”
I had to swallow down all the swirling feelings he was bringing out of me with his gentle touches and smoldering looks. I coughed a bit, trying to use my ‘I swear I’m not totally turned on by you’ voice.
“Well,” I managed, swallowing again. “After my dad left, it was just me and my mom for a while so I didn’t really get a normal childhood. Mom was always working, and I was either with a babysitter or home alone. My mom didn’t like me to play outside if she was at work, ya know, in case I got hurt or kidnapped or whatever, so I mainly just stayed in my house and read or drew. I think that’s where my love of fashion and design came from, actually. I would read all these books and then imagine what the characters were wearing and draw it.” I laughed to myself as a memory surfaced; something I hadn’t thought of in years. “At one point, my entire room was wallpapered in drawings I’d done of costumes. I was particularly fond of ball gowns. Dresses really. Anything fancy.” I blushed as I realized I was rambling, but Riot was just staring at me with his sexy caramel eyes and I couldn’t think about dresses anymore. All I could do was look into his eyes and smile like a fool.
His finger came up to the skin of my neck and started making tiny, slow circles there, causing my head to fall to the side. I was enjoying his touch entirely too much.
Suddenly, we heard the front door open and we both leapt back from each other, like high schoolers caught in a bedroom with the door closed. My head turned to look down the hallway and I saw Nancy walking toward me, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright.
“Hi, Kalli. Have a nice evening?” she asked, just before she rounded the corner and saw Riot sitting on the couch. “Oh, my.” Her hand came to her chest and her eyes didn’t even try to refrain from running up and down his body. I rolled my eyes at her blatant appraisal. “Hello, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Nancy.” She took another step toward Riot and held out her hand to him, smiling all the while.
“Hi, my name’s Riot Bentley. I’m a friend of Kalli’s.”
“Ah yes, the friend who drove through the night to see her,” she said, her smile shifting to mischievous. “I’m glad to see you made it safely.”
“It was an interesting drive, but totally worth it,” he said, winking at me and not even trying to hide it from Nancy. They were both being incorrigible.
“All right, you two, knock it off.” I stood up from the couch, trying to hide my wide smile and went to make sure Marcus was on track to get to bed soon. The entire time I was helping Marcus, I could hear Riot and Nancy chatting in the living room. I was too far away to hear their words, but every now and then I heard Nancy’s laughter, so I knew he was using his irresistible charm on her.
Once I’d flipped off his bedroom light, I shut Marcus’ door and made my way back to Riot.
“Where’s Nancy?” I asked as I found Riot all alone.
“She said she was headed to bed. Come here,” he said, crookin
g a finger at me.
I walked slowly toward him, but yelped quietly when he grabbed my arm, pulling me down onto his lap.
He was so large. It was impossible to not feel small when he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into him. It was an instinct I didn’t know I possessed to snuggle into him. I’d never been a snuggler. I’d been a ‘Hit It and Quit It’ kind of gal. I wasn’t ashamed of my past with men—I didn’t feel there was anything to be ashamed of—but I’d definitely skipped the parts where intimacy was involved. And sitting on his lap with his arms wrapped around me, his heartbeat thumping just below my cheek, well, it felt intimate as fuck. But it also felt right, which was just as alarming.
After a few minutes I looked up at him to ask him when he had to head back to California, but his lips found mine before I had a chance, and I was okay with that. He kissed me, just like he had at the view point, and I eventually found myself straddling his lap again, my body searching for the friction it craved.
My hands cupped his jaw, feeling the stubble of his beard which had been growing for a few days, imagining the scratch of his skin on other parts of my body. His hands found my ass again, and somewhere in the back of my mind I tucked away that little observation, thinking perhaps Riot Bentley was an ass man.
He pulled away, his mouth landing at the base of my throat, kissing down, stretching the neck of my shirt, all while his hands found their way under it, skimming up my belly. He was moving toward second base and I was so ready to feel his hands on me, when suddenly he pulled back. His lips left my skin, his hands left my shirt, and my eyes shot open as I gave him a confused look.
His head was leaned back on the back of the couch, eyes closed, breaths heavy.
“Are you all right?” I asked, my fingers coming to touch my lips that felt raw and used, thanks to his stubble.
“Yeah,” he said, rubbing his hand over his face. “That just got really intense.”
He must have seen the confusion on my face, or the hurt, because honestly, I was feeling both. His hands came up to cup my face and he pulled my forehead to his lips, pressing a kiss there.
“Kalli, we don’t have to rush into anything. I’m not in any hurry. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you, trust me, I do. I just don’t think this is the right time. Ya know? And I don’t know if I’d be able to stop if I went any further. If I got my hands on you, I wouldn’t be able to stop for anything.”
This was weird. I’d never been told to wait before. Never been turned away.
“So, you want to sleep with me…,” I said, my voice trailing off as I tried to work through our situation in my mind. “But, you don’t want to sleep with me tonight.” I looked to him for confirmation and his eyes were narrowed.
“I want, desperately, to sleep with you, Kalli. I want to spend hours on your body, and I plan to, but not tonight. Your brother’s down the hall, your, uh, Nancy is down the hall, too. It’s not the time or the place. Plus, we’ve got plenty of time to figure all this out.”
I listened to him, and knew he was right, but it was still strange to me to have a man turn me away. I sighed and continued on with my original question I’d tried to ask before we’d made out on my couch.
“So, when do you have to go back to California?”
“I have to leave in the morning, early. In fact,” he said, as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, jostling me as I still sat square on his lap, “if I’m going to get any sleep, I should probably head back to the hotel. I’ve only got about seven hours before I have to be on the road again.”
I tried not to let my inner pout show, but I was letting the pout fly free in my mind. I hadn’t seen a whole lot of him while he’d been in town, but it was more than enough to give me a taste of what it would be like to have him around all the time. I couldn’t help but feel I was going to miss him, which was something I would need to get accustomed. So many new feelings came with Riot.
So, instead of pouting, I swung my legs off him, stood up, and offered him my hands to help him up. With a smile, he took my hands and hoisted himself upward, bringing himself to tower over me again, but he only let go of one of my hands, still holding the other. This time, he laced his fingers through mine and I couldn’t help the blush or the smile that came over my face. I was like a teenager, butterflies and all.
“You’re sweet when you smile,” he said, brushing a thumb over my now-pink cheek.
“I don’t remember smiling more than I have in the last twenty four hours.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, slowly bending down to place a quick, chaste kiss on my lips. I didn’t bother responding because every word I thought to say sounded remarkably like gibberish as all my circuits were going haywire.
He walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the doorknob, looking back at me.
“I had a really great time with your brother tonight. He’s pretty awesome.”
I nodded, afraid if I opened my mouth the lump forming in my throat would fall right out.
“I’m hoping you’ll want to continue what we’ve got going here, Kalli. I know I’m headed back to California, but I really hope we can talk and get to know each other better.” He bent at the knees, bringing his face level with mine, and I couldn’t help but smile at him for it. “I want to know everything about you,” he whispered.
“I’d like that,” I whispered.
“Great,” he said, a smile shining across his face, lighting him up. “Can I kiss you goodbye?”
“I’d be a little upset if you didn’t,” I confessed.
His hand, which was still holding mine, wrapped around to my back, pressing our hands just above the curve of my ass, pulling me into him, and our lips met as if they were drawn to each other. He kissed me hard and deep, my hand finding his hair, and his tongue sliding over my bottom lip before he pulled back and walked away without another word.
Chapter Ten
I Want to Be The One
The next morning I woke up to a text message waiting for me from Riot.
**Hitting the road. The last two days were incredible. San Francisco seems very far away at the moment.**
I smiled at his words, but knew the distance would do me some good. After he left the night before, I had tried to evaluate the situation with a rational mind, tried to think of the obstacles in our way, the problems we would encounter. I didn’t want to go into it with rose-colored glasses; I wanted to be realistic. I had to be. I wasn’t some single twenty-year-old girl with her first real boyfriend. I was a thirty-year-old woman, with a job, and—for all intents and purposes—a child. I had responsibilities that I needed to maintain. I couldn’t let some butterflies in my stomach derail my life.
But as the smile spread across my face, all my reasons to rein myself in flew out the window and my fingers began furiously responding.
**Drive safely. San Francisco is pretty far, but it’s a short plane ride.**
I had no idea why I sent him that. I wouldn’t be getting on a plane to see him any time soon. Instead of overanalyzing, I flung my covers off and headed toward the bathroom, wanting to start my day to keep my brain occupied.
And that’s how the next six weeks of my life went. Riot and I texted and talked constantly. Even if he had very little time, he called me every night. I found myself, at the end of the day, looking forward to his calls, longing to hear his voice, to tell him how my day had gone. If I was at home, he’d Skype me and talk with Marcus. They’d have manly conversations about superheroes and videogames, while Nancy and I rolled our eyes at each other.
All the talking let us get to know one another, without the pressure of his sexy face and irresistible body. Although, there were a few times the conversations drifted toward the sexy.
**Send me a picture. I miss you.**
I’d sent him selfies a few times since we’d been talking. I’d never dared to send him anything racy, but something about the way he asked made me confident that he wanted to see something be
sides my smile. I got out of my bed, stripped out of my frumpy pajamas, and put on a black lace lingerie set I’d bought a while back, but had no real reason to wear until then. I lay in my bed, bent one knee up, and positioned my phone right above my head, aiming downward. I snapped the pic, then turned it quickly to check the outcome.
I gave myself a satisfied shrug, surprised the first try had turned out acceptable.
The picture was faceless, but caught my entire body from the chest down. I fiddled around with a few filters until I found the most flattering effect, then sent him the file, biting my thumbnail while I waited for a response.
When my phone finally pinged with an incoming text, I couldn’t get to it fast enough.
**Fucking hell, Kal. You can’t send a man a picture like that when he’s eight hundred miles away!**
I wore a ridiculously huge smile.
**Sorry. You asked for a picture.**
**Yeah, but damn, baby. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?**
**Send me one back.**
**You don’t want to see me right now.**
**Yes, I do.**
It took a few minutes, but my phone pinged and my mouth gaped open when the picture popped onto my screen. I swallowed, but it was difficult, as my mouth had gone dry. Riot sent me a picture of himself wearing only a pair of black boxer briefs. He was in a pose much like the one I’d picked for my picture. But instead of my soft curves and creamy complexion, he was all hard muscle and tanned skin. Good God, his abs were like speed bumps. All eight of them. His thighs were massive and well defined, and he had just the right amount of chest hair.
Never Standing Still Page 10
