“Hey,” he said as he rocked his shoulder in to mine, “that was crazy good. I’ve never sung that song live before either.”
Bo’s shoulder paused on mine as he placed his elbows on bent knees, dangling his pint from his long fingers. He slipped off his black Sperry’s and dragged his toes through the sand. Even his feet are sexy.
“Still, you’re an asshole. I nearly fainted!”
My scalp tingled as he brushed my hair aside, dancing his fingers across the back of my neck. His hands were tight, like guitar strings, and just as delicate. Despite the callused fingertips that come from years of plucking, their graze was soft and inviting.
“Forgive me,” he chuckled as he pressed his thick, soft lips on the spot where my neck meets my shoulders.
“K,” I sighed as I turned my lips to his.
He grabbed my chin and turned my face away as he worked his lips from the base of my neck to my ear. Nothing inside me had recovered from the night before, but I was nearly panting for more. I felt utterly helpless as his lips grazed my ear a second time. All I could do was kiss the top of his head, which caused him to right himself and look me straight in the eyes. I leaned forward and pressed my lips into his sharp jaw line. His breath stopped for a moment as I pulled my lips away and returned them to his neck. Our pint glasses hit the sand, and he placed both hands behind my head. Once again, his eyes held mine captive.
“I don’t usually do this,” he said more to himself than me, “you’re just so beautiful, so talented…”
I silenced him with a crushing kiss and we had to steady ourselves.
“Neither do I.” My body shook as my free hand rode up the outside of his thigh.
He exhaled sharply as he slowly brought his free hand to the base of my shirt; disregarding the soft cotton in favor of my skin. I pulled it in tighter, making my desire clear. The tip of my fingernail drew a line of goose bumps on the skin just inside his belt line.
“Ahh,” he sighed as he lunged forward and laid me down in the sand, cradling my head in one hand.
Our lips found their homes in each other, and we picked up where we left off the night before. If square had a taste, it was his jaw. If clouds had a touch, they were his lips. Every pore on my body drank him in with such eagerness that I could hear their cries of gratitude. My body had wandered the desert for too long; Bo was my oasis.
His full weight wasn’t on me, as his legs were still on the ground to my side, but it was enough for me to crave more. I released my hands from his waistband and surged them through the back of his thick, loose hair. I forced our lips tighter together. A faint groan of relief escaped my throat as we worked our tongues together in familiar rhythm. I wanted all of him, badly, but it couldn’t happen here. Not in the sand behind Finnegan’s.
“God . . . November.” It seemed to be all he could manage when he lifted his mouth from mine.
Each time he spoke my name, I was recharged with a need I’d never felt before. It was unsettling, but only in the way drinking half a bottle of wine is unsettling. My quenched thirst had turned to emotional drunkenness; I had to sober up.
I anchored one hand to the sand, and slowly pushed myself to a seated position. He didn’t fight it, but our mouths never parted. When we were both seated again we heard the back door to the bar open; the second act for the night had finished, and everyone else in Finnegan’s wanted to enjoy the ocean breeze. Their interruption forced a quick space between us. Damn them.
“Shit!” I giggled as I returned my gaze to the ocean, my face hot with a desire I’d yet to feel in my 26 years.
“Yea, shit.” His voice was clipped and his body seemed a bit wobbly as he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me in to him, “Next time I hope we’re not interrupted.” Once again an unidentifiable feeling ran through me at the sound of his voice. When he was on stage, it was one thing. This was different, it was confusing.
“Get a room!” Monica teased like the teenager inside of her that I loved.
“Mon, really?” Jo-sh tried to pacify the situation.
“Like you’re any better, Joshua,” I jested.
Bo laughed as we turned our bodies so they could join us in the sand. Josh and Monica congratulated Bo on another great performance and Josh asked if he’d be back any weekend in the near future. Realization grounded my live nerves; he was from New Hampshire, just here for the weekend. He owed nothing to me, we just happened into this and now he had to go home. Monica must have seen me turn white through my thought process because she shot me a sympathetic smile. She understood. In that same moment, Bo found my hand.
“I’d love to come back and play.” He didn’t release his grip. “I’ve actually got to stay in town this week for business. I’ve got plans Friday night, but I’d love to play Saturday.”
The color returned to my face and Monica’s smile echoed; no longer sympathetic, it was excited - devilish even. My eyes told her to “shut up,” and she took a long look at Bo before flinging a cheeky smile my way.
“Bo, let’s get you settled up inside.” Josh flashed me a sweet and knowing look. He knew Monica and I needed to talk; he was more emotionally tuned in than I was sometimes.
“Wait for me?” Bo tilted his head, eyeing me when he stood up.
“Of course.” I smiled back as I watched Josh and Bo head back inside.
“Ember! I’ve never seen you like this. What’s gotten in to you? He is so freaking hot,” Monica squealed.
“You just answered your own question, my friend.”
“Are you going to go home with him tonight?” Her seriousness drew laughter out of me.
“Geez Mon, I don’t know. I don’t really know anything about him. He’s hot, he plays music, and he sings. Oh, and he’s from New Hampshire, we have the same taste in music and we sing well together. That’s all I know.” My responsible side came up for air for the first time after 24 hours of swimming in desire.
“You two have serious chemistry. I haven’t seen that look on your face since Adrian.” She winced a little as she said his name.
“You can bring up Adrian, Monica, we broke up like five years ago. We dated and had great sex. I fell in love but he didn’t fall in after me. That’s all.”
Monica also knew that wasn’t all there was - she was there. She held me as I cried. When Monica and I first met Josh at Finnegan’s, I saw sparks between them immediately. Still, she nearly asked my permission to date him. She treated what happened with Adrian with great care, even though it was years old. Maybe she knew more than I did how much it hurt. The dissolution of that relationship didn’t dissolve my belief in love, though. What I was feeling for Bo was completely soul-shifting.
I had to tread carefully, even though my bones ached and my soul thirsted for everything he had to offer. I’d spent the last day trying to think spontaneously, to remind myself that I didn’t care he would have to go home. After just a second kiss, however, I was starting to care.
Josh and Bo came back outside as Monica and I were dusting the sand off of ourselves.
“You guys want to come back to my place?” I asked, noting Monica’s gaping mouth.
They all agreed, and off we went. I knew it was risky to have someone I barely knew over to my house, but my friends would be there. And, if something should happen when we were alone, I’d know how to get out; an advantage you don’t have when you’re in unfamiliar territory. We each got in to our respective cars and I used the drive home to gather the nerve I’d need to ask Bo to stay the night with me.
By the time we got to my apartment, I was riddled with indecision. I wanted to spend more time with Bo, but I didn’t want to play the Sex Card too early as a means to get him to want to spend more time with me. I wanted him badly, but the memories of what happened with Adrian reminded me to proceed with caution. I was already feeling things beyond physical desire for Bo, and I didn’t want to ruin that.
I gripped my steering wheel with the frustration that I couldn’t deny myself
the physical satisfaction of this beautiful man because I was afraid of endangering a relationship we didn’t even have. Ugh! Still, it would be no for tonight.
The four of us headed into my apartment and opened up a bottle of wine in the living room. Monica and Josh settled for different chairs, which allowed Bo and me to sit together on the couch. I loved watching Josh and Monica look at each other. Her intense personality matched her dark eyes, and Josh looked like he was carved from the earth; he grounded her. They were truly fire and earth.
Josh is the type of man that my parents would love to see me with. He strums a guitar well enough, has the type of relaxed personality my parents thrived on, and he is nice to look at. I’d never really been physically attracted to Josh; almost as long as I’d known him he’d been with Monica. But I appreciated those qualities in him, which is why we hit it off as friends. The heat of the man sitting next to me was enough to break my view of “The Josh and Monica Love Show.”
“Hey, where’d you go?” Bo shook me out of my daydream with a warm hand on my knee.
“Ah, you know, young love.” I gestured dramatically at Josh and Monica, which caused Josh to chuck a pillow at my head.
Over the next couple of hours I learned a lot about Bo. He was in town on business for the foundation he works for. He said he didn’t want to bore us with details, but his trip had to do with fundraising. He graduated from UNH six years ago, placing him only two years older than me. Perfect. He had one younger sister, Rachel, whom he hadn’t seen in a couple of years, but his voice softened when he spoke of her. The big brother role looked good on him.
“What about your parents? Do they still live in New Hampshire?” I stroked the back of his hand, my other arm on the back of the couch.
“Uh, well, they died four years ago. Car accident.” The words staggered their way out of this throat.
“I’m so sorry.” My hand rested on top of his and gave a little squeeze.
“It’s OK,” he exhaled, “I was out of college and on my own as it was. Physically it was more of an adjustment for Rachel. She was a senior in high school and had to grow up too quickly.” His eyes focused on something that wasn’t in the room. I decided to drop it.
“OK,” Josh interrupted, “Monica and I are heading out. I’ll be in touch this week Bo.”
“K, Man, thanks. Talk to you later.” Bo got up and shook Josh’s hand.
“Ember, call me tomorrow, K?” Monica asked as innocently as possible.
“Sure, talk to you tomorrow.”
“Be careful,” she whispered as she gave me a goodbye hug. I nodded and shut the door behind them.
Bo gathered the wine glasses and walked them to the kitchen. I followed behind him.
“Thanks.” My hand brushed his when I reached for the dishtowel to dry the glasses.
He faced me and playfully grabbed my butt, pulling me to him for a quick, but passionate, kiss. I giggled like a fool and he laughed against my lips. Suddenly there was no giggling; we started to give in to the passion again. Bo spun me around and pressed my back against the refrigerator; my goosebumps punched the frigid stainless steel. He pinned both of my hands above my head as he leaned into me. Yes. His hips met mine, kneading in to me as his lips parted my own. The hurricane of passion that flew through his kiss rocked the boat holding my resolve.
“Shit,” I breathed into his open mouth.
He groaned in agreement. I nudged my wrists forward, and he released them. I searched the deep muscles in his back and shoulders with my tense, longing hands.
“Mmmm . . .” he hummed as I ran my hands up his back on the inside of his shirt. His skin was soft, but the heat nearly burned my hands. I couldn’t tell if that was real, or in my head; regardless, I wanted more of it on me.
I stepped forward, urging my back off of the fridge. Bo gracefully stepped back without leaving my lips for a second. I turned him toward the counter, backing him slowly into it. This was the hottest dance session I’d ever had. We moved together, to the same rhythm, which I was beginning to think was my heartbeat since that’s all I could hear.
Actually, I could hear music; the music we sang together, and the music he played. Another song sang along to the beat of my heart; I couldn’t place it, but I could feel it. My soul felt like it was singing to him, about him. Whatever it was, it took with it the last grain of my resolve, and I led him to the living room. We sat down in silence, but Bo stared so intensely in to my eyes that I thought I would melt right there. He tucked a hair behind my ear and left his hand there, redirecting the goosebumps down my neck.
Bo closed his eyes tight for a moment and reopened them at me, seeming to search for an answer to a question I hadn’t asked - at least out loud. He exhaled, “November. . .”
My only response was tug on his shirt - my eyes never leaving his - as I pulled him onto my reclined body. My long-gone resolve was swept under my ‘Welcome’ mat. The softness of his lips surprised me, given the sharpness of his jaw. But, the softer his kiss, the more I wanted. He let out a throaty approval as my hands slipped between us and found his yearning. I massaged the outside of his jeans, and as his pulse increased, mine followed. Swiftly he sat up, pulling me with him, and in one motion I was straddling him. His commanding hands held my hips in place as he grinded into me.
My pulse was frantic with need as I met his rhythm. I grasped one of his hands and guided it up the inside of my shirt, placing it on my breast. He worked me with firm hands that caused a faint whisper of ecstasy to flee my throat. He drew his hand greedily down my side and placed both palms on my back. The heat radiating from his long fingers was unreal. God, I want him. Our lips hadn’t left each other’s since we sat on the couch; it was as if they were making up for a lifetime’s worth of missed kisses.
I let out one low groan into his mouth, and the sound of my own voice startled my resolution into action from under the ‘Welcome’ mat. It dutifully hammered its way back through my veins and grounded the live wire whipping erratically inside me. If what I thought I was feeling for Bo was real, I couldn’t give it all away tonight.
I slowed my breathing and my motions, nervous for a moment that he would think I was a cock-tease; but my concerns about his opinion of me bowed to my opinion of myself. Bo didn’t resist; he relaxed his hands as I slid off his legs, but our mouths weren’t finished with each other.
Still kissing in this less provocative position, I felt a small smile cross his lips as he planted soft kisses on my lips, nose, and forehead. Stopped, with our foreheads touching, our breathing was too erratic to allow words. We sat, panting for a minute, before moving. He stretched his back against the couch, put his arm around my shoulders and kissed the top of my head before leading it to his shoulder. I responded with a kiss under his chin.
“Hey,” I looked up at him with apologetic eyes, “I. . .”
I began to apologize for putting on the breaks; my experience with men taught me that a move like that often warrants an apology of some sort - no matter how half-hearted.
“Don’t, November.” Tenderness glistened in his eyes as he combed his thumb down the side of my face. “This has been one of the best nights of my life.” I kissed his thumb when it met my lips.
Speechless, I laid my head back on his shoulder.
Several minutes later we were back in the kitchen.
“Hey,” I said as I put the last wine glass away, and slid my hand in to his back pocket to retrieve his cell phone, “let me give you my number.”
I tapped my number into his phone, entered my name as November Blue, and slid the phone back in to his pocket.
“Awesome,” he beamed, “I’ll call you to get together sometime this week?”
“Sounds great. I typically work 8 to 4, but you can text me during work if you want to set something up.” My attempt at not sounding desperate wasn’t going quite as I’d hoped.
Bo walked over to the door and took a long, slow breath. “Thank you for having me over, Ember.” His ton
e was sweet, carrying through my apartment like an aria. “This night was…”
“Yea,” I tipped my head up and kissed him, “it really was, Bo. I’ll talk to you later, K?”
I met him at my door and gripped my fingers around the edges of his jeans pockets.
“Absolutely.” He pulled me in to him and gave me one hard, demanding kiss. “Later.”
I shut the door behind him and thumped my forehead against it, letting out a small hum of sexual frustration. His sensitivity and understanding when I didn’t want things to go any further flooded me with relief, and respect for him. When I got into bed five minutes later, my cell phone dinged with a text. The number wasn’t one I recognized, so I took it to be Bo’s. I opened the message, smiling.
Bo: Hey, it’s Bowan, now you have my number
Me: Excellent :) Bowan, is it?
Bo: It’s only fair, November Blue :)
Me: Fair’s fair. Good night.
Bo: Hey I hope to see you during the week, but in case work gets ahead of me, I definitely want to see you on Friday
Me: Great! But I thought you told Josh you had plans Friday?
Bo: You are my plans on Friday
Horray!
Me: Presumptuous, don’t you think?
Bo: Sorry. Would you like to get together on Friday?
Me: Better :) I’d love to. Talk to you this week I hope.
Bo: Night
Me: Night :-*
Crap, I kissy-faced in a text. I rolled on to my belly, threw my pillow over my head and endured the most angst-filled sleep I’d had in years.
Chapter Five
“We had the decency to duck out early and you mean to tell me nothing happened?!” Monica sat, exasperated, on my couch.
Her early morning texts didn’t wake me - since I hadn’t slept much - but she made up for her dramatic entrance by bringing me a latte.
“You are a bad influence. He was a perfect gentleman, Monica. So . . .” My face heated as I recounted the details of our kiss and his request for a date on Friday.
Kiss Kiss Page 228
