Head Over Wheels (Spicy Young Romance)

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Head Over Wheels (Spicy Young Romance) Page 22

by January Valentine


  My head rolling in my hands, I groaned. "Oh, God. We're in public, and that's not even helping. What are we gonna do?"

  He pulled me close, but didn't kiss me. He just held me. I felt him tremble. "Oh, babe. I don't know. I just don't know." His words were choked. "It's getting harder and harder."

  "It sure is." I attempted a laugh.

  Guilt replaced the butterflies that chewed holes in my stomach when I was with him. Attempting to lighten the mood, I casually said, "Are you okay?"

  "Not really." His words were tight.

  "Is there anything I can do?"

  He stared at me in disbelief. "Seriously?" He heaved one of the biggest sighs I'd ever heard slip through anyone's lips. "Haven't you done enough?" He tried to laugh, but only his shoulders moved.

  I knew he was trying to unwind. As if I wasn't, too? "If it's any consolation, it's not easy for me either." Why was I defensive? Duh, because I'd started it. I might as well have walked into his bedroom wearing a black lace bustier, carrying two glasses of wine. "Women get blue balls too. Even though we don't really have balls ... and you know the blood collects and we feel like we're gonna freak if we don't ..."

  He looked at me as if I'd just confessed to murder. "Jewel," his voice was flat, "I have extensive knowledge of the human anatomy. I know the physiology of an orgasm, and the effects on a body when it's denied release." His eyes bore into mine. "I know what to do to a woman ... how to bring her to a screaming climax." He ran a finger over my lower lip, a thumb across my cheek.

  "Oh, God, Jimmy. I ..." My stomach clenched, and my panties drenched. The way he spoke about orgasms, so openly, technically, I knew he'd be an expert, and almost lost it at the thought.

  I could barely contain myself. There could be no teasing, no high school games. He was a man and I was playing with fire. I'd have to start practicing self control or we'd been leaving the station and headed down another road without a planned destination. I couldn't take the risk, so I'd have to keep my hands to myself. My lips off his, our genitals apart. And exactly how was I going to do this?

  The train pulled into Grand Central Station shortly after we'd composed ourselves. I cradled the containers of rice and chili Mom had packed for Emma. We hailed a cab and headed for my apartment.

  The streets were dim and relatively empty, the pavement glossy with a light drizzle that had begun to fall. Indigo's arm was around my shoulders as we sat in the back of the cab. I put my hand on his knee, once more desperate to know. "Are you sure you're okay?"

  In the dimness his pale eyes were crystalline. His thumb strummed my chin, brought my lips to his for a sweet kiss. "Don't worry about anything. I'm fine." He drew back and smiled. "I should be off duty by six on Friday evening. How about I pick you up on the way home. We'll get dinner, take in a movie. Sound good?"

  "Sounds amazing." I heaved an internal sigh and plastered myself against his side, confident everything would be just fine.

  RELATIONSHIP COUNSELING

  Friday couldn't arrive fast enough. I spent the week wallowing in a dream. Indigo was like a drug, and I was addicted. I'd become such a clock-watcher, I felt like a player at crunch time.

  After pulling up the zipper of my jeans, I made sure the embroidered seams were smooth and straight.

  "Emma! Which sweater goes best with my studded jeans?"

  In less than a minute, she appeared in my bedroom doorway, granola bar in hand.

  "I keep forgetting to call and thank your mom for the chili and rice," she said as she munched.

  "I already told her you ate it almost every night this week for dinner, which says it all."

  She laughed. "The only reason I'm not having it tonight is it's finished." She chomped her last piece of granola, crumbled the wrapper, and tossed it into the vanity wastebasket beside the door.

  Standing in front of my closet, I pulled out several hangers. "What do you think of this?" I held up a white linen shirt.

  "Nah. Looks too western for those jeans."

  I wedged it back between others on the rack. "Okay then. How about this?" I presented a yellow tube top and somewhat matching striped shirt.

  Emma laughed. "No way. He'll try to pick you because you'll look like a daffodil in bloom."

  I shot her a smirk. "This is the last of my wardrobe." I yanked a purple v-neck angora sweater off the end of the rack.

  "Perfection. Purple's your best color." She pulled her cell phone out of her trouser pocket, flopped on my bed, and proceeded to check her messages while I slipped the sweater over my head.

  "There goes the hair," I complained. "Nice and staticy." I grabbed my brush and the bottle of static relief Brittany had given me, and went to work on the tangles. After a few minutes, my hair was sleek and shiny, my frizzy head no longer transmitting signals to outer space.

  "When's he picking you up?"

  "Sixish. How do I look?"

  "Splendid."

  I plopped down beside Emma. "I have a few minutes." I swept my hand over the smooth satin spread. "You know, something's been bugging me."

  She swung her head in my direction. "As usual, I'm all ears."

  "I've been really losing control lately. It's like, when I'm around Indigo, I want to be a total slut."

  Emma burst out laughing. "I've never known anyone who'd admitted to wanting to be a slut."

  "We're getting closer and closer. It's like we're nearing a cliff, but neither of us wants to fall off ... I guess for our own reasons."

  "What's yours?"

  I curled my bottom lip down. "I'm twenty-one, Emma, and old enough to get laid physically, but psychologically, I have to hold back. I don't want to completely lose it over him. I don't think I could take another Nikos. And Indigo is so much more than Nikos ever was. But there's something about him that's so secretive. He's like a thermometer registering so many different temperatures. That's what's got me going in circles."

  "What do you mean? Like he's lying to you? Seeing someone else? Married? Oh my God." She covered her mouth with a hand. "That fuckstick."

  "Nooo. I know he's not married. He barely has time for me. I doubt he's hiding a wife and kids anywhere." Suddenly, I felt childish. I leaned to check my reflection in the dresser mirror. "From the boobs up, I guess I look okay," I said offhandedly, carefully lifting the crown of my hair with my fingertips. "He gets distant sometimes, moody, like something's bothering him, but never admits to anything when I ask him. And I know he's holding back."

  I stepped in front of my full length mirror, swiveling so I could check my shape in the new jeans that had cost half of my paycheck. "I'm hot, Em. Why can't he lose control with me? I mean, I was like so all over him on the train on Sunday. My boobs in his face, my crotch on his, and he was able to stop on a dime. If I'd had my way, other passengers would have gotten a free show they'd never forget. Thank God no one else was around, because at that point, I didn't care. I was practically unconscious with desire. Had we not been speeding to Manhattan, maybe we wouldn't have stopped. Who knows."

  "So, you want him to jump you?"

  "No ... yes. I just want to know why he's not? We get almost there, and he stops, like it's as easy as closing a book. I've never known another guy who could do that without coming in his pants."

  "So the guy's got great self control. Can't fault him for that. Besides," she giggled, "you wouldn't want a guy who lost his load in his jeans, would you?"

  A hand over my mouth, I burst out laughing, then with a tissue, blotted the lipstick I knew would have to be reapplied after my session with Em.

  After we finished clowning, Emma straightened her back and slipped into analyst mode. "It's one of two things. He's not ready to settle down, obviously, since he's got years of training ahead of him, and if you two consummate the relationship now ... it could be the nail in his coffin, leading to marriage, or at least a binding commitment while he's still a resident, which I doubt he'd want to do. He seems level headed and secure in how he sees his future."

&nbs
p; "Not a bad concept. What's the other option?"

  "He's into Vanessa, and for some reason can't be with her, but he doesn't want to hurt you. Maybe he can't decide what he wants, if he even wants anything."

  My eyes bulged. "What do you mean?"

  "Maybe he doesn't see you as a long termer, you know?"

  "Oh my God, you're harsh! And to bring Vanessa into this? Are you serious?"

  She sighed. "Just being realistic, Jewel. I don't want to see you get hurt. You're an adult for Pete’s sake. Why wouldn't you have sex with a guy you're dating? Why would he be treating you like a virgin?"

  "I told you. I don't want to fall off the cliff and hopelessly in love with him, and he respects me." I closed my eyes for a long blink. "Maybe you're right. He's not ready for commitment. He's honorable, so screwing me would mean he'd be tied to me ..."

  Emma shook her head. "Something else to consider, Jewel."

  "Haven't you already ruined my night?"

  "I don't know if this is such a good idea, anyway. If your relationship does work out, you'll be in your thirties, and he'll be in his forties someday ..."

  "Holy shit, Em. What's the difference? So he's like six or seven years older than me? That's shit in a bucket."

  "It may not matter now, but as the years pile up, it could become a problem. Like when you're in your sixties and he's in his seventies. Make sure he stays in good shape and brings home plenty of Viagra."

  I threw one of my bed pillows at her head. "You're kidding, I hope."

  "I am. I don't want to send you off in a bad mood. Figured I'd lighten the moment."

  "Lighten the moment? You just painted a horrendous picture in my head. I don't want to be old! My life hasn't even started yet. Now I'm gonna be giggling to myself all night, visualizing Indigo as a cranky old man with a drooping dick ... oh my God, ever wonder what we'll be like? All wrinkly and saggy?" I cupped my breasts, testing their bounce.

  "That'll never happen. We do Yoga." Emma pruned her face and held up a hand. "I shouldn't talk about patients, but since you don't know any of mine, listen to this." Emma pulled me down beside her. "This guy was falling apart for similar reasons as what you're describing."

  "Oh great. A reverse situation? So what happened?"

  "This girl seemed to like him a lot but wouldn't commit. And there was someone like a male Vanessa in their history. It turned out, not only did the bitch break his heart but, ohhh, she broke it bad. She left him at the altar and took off with the other guy."

  "The male Vanessa?"

  "Ah ha." Emma's nod was virtuous.

  "Thank you very much. You should write a self help column in the daily paper. Dear Emma. Want to go off the deep end? Contact Emma Kim. She'll walk you to the edge and even give you a push." I grabbed my satchel and checked inside for all my necessities, then spread on another coat of glossy plum lipstick and smacked my lips. "Speaking of the edge. What's up with you and Arkana?"

  A dreamy look controlled Em's face. She rolled her eyes and smiled so Cheshire, I almost reached out to pet her.

  "RSVP not needed. I can see by the look on your mug. You're desperately in love, happy, and secure." I drew a dramatic breath and blew it out.

  "Billy's everything I've always wanted in a man." The yowl she emitted made me jump off the bed. My heart actually tripped. "I'm going to Texas to meet his family soon."

  I threw my arms around her. "Oooh. I'm so happy for you!"

  My cell chimed.

  Indigo: I'm downstairs

  Me: Be right down

  I headed for my room.

  “Wishful thinking,” Emma laughed, “but you’re going the wrong way.”

  “When I take him to bed, it won’t be here." I smirked. "I almost forgot the children’s books I bought at Casey’s library sale. I can’t wait to show them to Indigo.”

  “You waited long enough to give them to him.”

  “I had to read them first.” I laughed. “Gotta run, Em. Don’t wait up for me.” On the way out the door, I winked.

  INDIGO’S APARTMENT

  I flew down the stairs to meet Indigo, bypassing the elevator, as my stomach was already in my throat. The Wrangler was double parked, with a grinning Indigo inside, dressed in green scrubs, forearms resting on the steering wheel. His face was framed by the open passenger window. I felt his stare follow as I neared. Mindful to not overwork my moves, my hips swayed just enough to entice.

  Reaching across the seat he swung the door open, looking so cute, so sexy, so happy to see me. "Hey ..." his voice was effortless.

  A day at the hospital had done nothing to subdue his charm. Dear Lord, he's gorgeous, everything inside me screamed. Then my stomach spazzed. With the way he made me feel, how was I going to keep my hands off him? Easy ... I wasn't. My emotions were in turmoil. This guy was turning me into a drooling contradiction! Get a grip, girl!

  I poked my head in and flashed an adorable smile. I tossed the shopping bag into the back of the car, then my body slithered gracefully onto the seat. "Hi, babe," I said, running my hand along the side of his bristly cheek, up into his tousled hair, my gaze glued to his.

  "Hey, baby." With the interior lights still on, his eyes flicked over me before our bodies touched. His lips were soft, his kiss minty. "You look terrific, as always. What's in the bag? You plan on staying over?" He grinned.

  "That's an invitation I might take you up on sometime ... but not tonight." I smiled. "I picked up some books at Casey's library sale a while back. I thought you might use them in your office."

  He reached over the seat and rummaged through the bag, bringing up a glossy book covered with bunny rabbits and bright green clover. "Oh honey. These are great." He pulled me in for a kiss. "How thoughtful of you." His eyes shined. "Not sure when I'll have an office, but I bet the kids in the hospital would love these. Mind if I take them there?"

  "Sure. Kids are kids, regardless of where they are. I hope they like them."

  "They'll love them." His brows rounded. "So will the volunteers who read them." Chuckling, he put the book back into the bag. "Are you hungry?"

  "For you." My voice was seductive when I squeezed his thigh.

  His laugh sounded nervous. "What would you like to eat? Other than my lap."

  We both laughed at his gaff. Before clearing his throat, he blushed.

  "Italian okay with you? I could be coerced into Penne A La Vodka." My smile was bright. I had to push the earlier conversation with Emma out of my head. I made a mental note to hide her yogurt when I got home. I had to get even with her for planting evil seeds, vowing to never let them take root.

  "How was your day, sweetie?" I sat angled in the seat so I could watch his every expression. As he drove, my eyes dragged over him. "Slow day? I don't see any blood on your scrubs."

  "You're insane, you know that?" Chuckling, he shook his head. "I spent the entire day in geriatrics, reading charts and diagnosing."

  I imagined his job wasn't the easiest. Watching the sick recover would be exhilarating, but watching people die had to be horrendous. How did one leave that kind of work at the office? I was happy I could make him laugh.

  "Hey. I finally get to see where you live," I chirped.

  "It's comfortable," he said as he turned into the entrance to the parking garage, "and convenient."

  "You have parking?" I was astounded. Only high class buildings had ground level parking.

  "Yep. And a storage locker where I keep my bikes."

  "As in bicycles?"

  "Yes, and Triumph."

  "Ritzy, huh?"

  "A place to call home." He edged into a numbered space and cut the engine. Leaving the keys dangling, he reached across the seat and pulled me over the console for a kiss that made me quiver. "I've been waiting for that all week." His fingers ran through the side of my hair, tucked a lock behind my ear.

  "You have, have you?" I ran my tongue around his lips, teasing, then drew back and gazed at him. "Is this up to your expectations?"

&nbs
p; "Absolutely ... and yes, I've been dying to kiss you, my little tamale." He ran his hand down my arm, straight to my thigh which he caressed. "I enjoyed the entire day in Poughkeepsie, especially the train ride home." He tweaked the tip of my nose.

  I was speechless. He had a way about him. Regardless of the subject matter, his words sounded hot as hell.

  "Let's get going so I can get out of these clothes and take you out for a fantastic Italian meal ... and much needed downtime." He blew a kiss into my ear.

  We walked hand in hand to the elevator, kissed after the door closed, our lips parting only when the door slid open on the fifth floor. Stopping at apartment number five-ten, Indigo unlocked the door and pushed it open. The hardwood foyer gleamed. To the right was a wall rack where a lightweight jacket and hooded sweatshirt hung on pegs beneath a polished shelf. On the floor below it was a shoe rack, clutching a pair of running shoes and the hiking boots he'd worn on Sunday. He obviously didn't walk on his white carpet with shoes, so I kicked off my heeled boots before entering.

  Indigo emptied his pockets and set his wallet and keys onto a sofa table backed against a sprawling sectional, careful to protect the finish on the shining cherry wood.

  "Ready for the grand tour?" He took my arm.

  "I've been dying to see your apartment." Excited, I squeezed his hand and stretched my neck to peek down the hall.

  His fingertips brushed my cheek, then he grabbed my hand. "Come on, beautiful." He tugged and I followed.

  We bypassed the kitchen, walking directly down the hardwood hallway. I noticed a telephone receiver fastened near a doorframe. "Odd place for a phone," I commented.

  "That's the intercom. They put it there so you can hear it from any room ... supposedly." He rolled his eyes. "Not always true. I've slept through it."

  "Mine's just a speaker mounted inside the wall." I scrunched my bottom lip.

  "Come on, silly." He drew both of my arms around his waist, towing me close behind him, the tips of my toes stubbing the heels of his feet.

 

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