by Maya Hughes
“It’s not exactly what I imagine you’d have in mind for our New Year’s Eve.”
“Are we going out on the roof?” She took a step backward, and I snagged her wrist. Her pulse pounded against my fingers. “It’s freezing out there.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” I stepped out the window and held out my hand for her.
She hesitated before sliding her hand into mine.
“Trust me.” I pulled her out with me, and she clung to my side as we gingerly took a few steps over to where I’d set everything up.
“What exactly is this?” Her fingers bit into my arm; her grip was so tight. I smiled and guided her down onto the blanket.
Taking a lighter out of my pocket, I lit the two candles. The light bounced off the glass candleholder. I flipped the blanket back to reveal the spread I’d set up. Cheeses, fresh fruit, some hot chocolate in travel mugs, and the telescope. Propping it up, I handed her a mug and covered her legs with another blanket.
“Damn, you’re good.” She glanced over at me with hungry eyes, and I was tempted to call the whole thing off, throwing her over my shoulder to get her into my bed at light speed.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet.” I winked. Her musical laughter carried on the frigid, crisp air.
This was going to be a night we’d never forget.
13
Kara
The telescope slid along the tiles of the roof, clattering as it went. Heath sat up and grabbed it, tugging the blankets off me. The sharp, biting cold whooshed back in, reminding me that I was in a place I had no business being.
“Maybe we should head back in.” I ran my hands over my legs. Had I known we’d be stargazing outside, I’d have worn pants. “I can’t believe you talked me into coming out here.”
He held out his hand and helped me up. “I think maybe you wanted to.” His eyes twinkled with mischief. “Maybe do something a little bit out of the ordinary.”
“That’s one thing I’d never call my time with you.” My foot slipped and I yelped.
Heath’s arms wrapped around me, and he tugged me to his chest. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” The puffs of breath gathered between us, and I stared down the slope of the roof from the safety of his arms.
“Thanks.” I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat.
He guided me back to the window and wrapped his hands around my waist, settling me on his bedroom floor. I licked my dry lips that had nothing to do with the blustery December temperature.
I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around his neck and run my fingers through his hair. He stepped back and peeled his coat off. The way his shirt clung to every inch of him was not even fair. How were mere mortals supposed to not stare and drool?
“Let me grab your coat.” He closed the window behind him and took my coat, draping it over the chair at his desk. The star gazing was unexpected. It definitely wasn’t what I’d expected when he’d sent his address. Never did the equation become I’d be staring up into the stars with my fingers intertwined with Heath’s and my heart racing so fast it made me light-headed. It could have also had something to do with being perched up on the roof with only his fingers threaded through mine to keep me from sliding off.
We walked back downstairs, his hands on mine the entire time. His smile made his eyes shine. The light in the bar and back at the hotel hadn’t done them justice. They were blue unlike any I’d seen before. So clear and deep, I wanted to race to the nearest pool and dive in. I could lose myself in them for hours.
He headed into the kitchen and reappeared a second later. I’d never have guessed he was in college, but the taxi trip here pretty much confirmed that one. The night out at the bar, his friend who’d looked the same age had been splashing out, covering all the drinks, springing for the hotel rooms. What kind of college student could even do that? I’d figured he was an NHL player.
I hadn’t been to off-campus housing before, but this was definitely it. Thank God I’d already gotten my schedule for the semester and I hadn’t seen Heath’s name anywhere on it. What were the odds? We’d attended the same school for a year and a half and never seen each other. Why would we cross paths now?
Somehow we’d managed to keep the talk of our lives pretty light. Past traumas were open season, but what we currently did and our lives now outside of pop culture had been a topic we hadn’t touched on. I’d assumed with all his hotel hopping, he was only in town for a little while. How did this change things? I tilted my head toward him and prayed to the study gods that he wasn’t a sophomore.
“How did you end up in Philly?” I tucked my hair behind my ear.
“Moved from California when I was thirteen with my mom. Got a hockey scholarship at a prep school in the area, and I’ve stayed local ever since.” His smile faltered, and he handed me a glass of white wine like he didn’t want me to ask any more about that. I certainly understood uncomfortable stories about your past.
“California, that’s cool. It certainly fits.” He had that carefree air about him that made me think of sitting out on a beach and watching the tide roll in.
“You wouldn’t be the first to say that. What about you?”
“Me?” I took a sip of wine.
“Yeah, we’re doing the getting to know you, right? How did you end up here?”
I glanced down at my hands with my fingers wrapped around the stem of the glass, trying to work out exactly how to answer that. “I went to undergrad in Boston, but I went to high school in the area. I came back when I got into the master’s program here, and I’ll start my biochem PhD next year.” My stomach knotted. Following in the family footsteps.
“Impressive. I thought you were a writer?” He took a sip of his beer.
“I do write, sometimes. To clear my head and stuff.” I ran my finger over the rim of my glass. “Why do you get a beer and I’m stuck with wine?”
“Figured it would be something special for the evening. If you’re not good with wine, I can grab you a beer.” He stood, and I wrapped my fingers around his wrist. The sinewy muscles tightened under my grip. He sat back down and threw his arm over the back of the couch. The picture of relaxation and unstudied manliness.
“No, I was joking. I’m good. Everything is perfect.”
“And I understand about the whole lying about what you really do thing.”
My eyes shot to his. “I wasn’t lying. I do write, I happen to also be a graduate student.”
“Kara, it’s fine. Not like you’re my teacher or anything. My classes for the semester are already all picked out and there wasn’t a Kara in the bunch.”
The blood drained out of my face. Talk about a nightmare scenario.
“And it is impressive. Someone so young already knowing what you want to do and going after it.” He continued on like I hadn’t died a little inside.
He thought I was young. He was younger than me. How much younger? “Oh my God, how old are you?”
“What if I told you I was nineteen?” He sat forward and rested his forearms on his legs.
I yelped, my face was awash with horror.
He laughed. “I’m twenty-two. I’ll be twenty-three over the summer.”
My hand shot to my chest as relief washed over me. I’d been ready to jump out the window and not stop running until I hit the shore if I’d bedded down with someone who wasn’t even twenty. Which was silly—he’d been served at the bar, but it wasn’t like fake IDs weren’t a thing, and he could have sweet-talked honey from a bear.
“How old are you?” He gulped down some more beer. The playful look twinkled in his eyes.
“Don’t you know it’s not polite to ask a woman her age?” I shot back.
“Don’t you know it’s not polite to ask questions you don’t want to answer yourself?”
“What if I told you I was twenty-nine?” I crossed my arms over my chest, and his eyes shot down like I was presenting my breasts to him on a silver platter. I let out an exasperated sound and dropped
my arms, taking another drink.
“I’d say you’re a terrible liar. I think you’re twenty-four tops, but if you were twenty-nine, I’m more than okay with that.”
The TV was on mute and the opening credits to my favorite ’80s movie started.
“Now this is what I’m talking about! This is my favorite John Hughes movie.” I pointed to the TV with my glass.
“I recorded it for you.”
“You did?” Some Kind of Wonderful opened with a scene of Watts banging away on her drums, complete with fringed gloves and take-no-prisoners attitude.
“The guy ends up with his childhood best friend after chasing after the popular girl the whole movie. It’s the exact opposite of Pretty in Pink. I knew this would be your favorite.”
“Watts is a pretty badass drummer who doesn’t take any crap from anyone.”
“She’s also pretty hot.” He stared into my eyes, and I leaned in closer like there were a thread connecting the two of us and it was being shortened by the second.
“She was also incredibly loyal.”
He drank down my words, he was so close. Like each one tipped the scale we were balancing on until we came crashing down onto each other.
“She was, even when she should have probably kicked Keith in the nuts a few times.” His lips had already become an addiction for me. Soft and firm all at the same time. Lazy and insistent in equal parts to make me forget myself.
My eyes fluttered closed as he lifted his hand to the side of my face. A sharp buzz snapped spell we were under, and my eyes shot open.
He hopped up. “One second. I’ll be right back.”
He disappeared into the kitchen. His tight ass in those jeans nearly had me biting on my knuckle to hold back a groan. He was the hottest guy I’d ever slept with. Academics weren’t exactly known for their rock-hard bodies.
He came back with a beer for me, and we talked a little more. For some reason, I tried to steer the conversation away from school. We obviously went to the same school but had never crossed paths. The less we knew about that, the better. If we hadn’t seen each other yet, then the odds were there wouldn’t be any issues with what we had going on.
A timer dinged kitchen, and he took my hand, helping me stand from the couch. I let him lead me into the kitchen, curious about exactly what else he’d planned for tonight. I had never been happier to be wrong. I’d assumed he’d be having a party, but I was wrong. This was better. A lot better.
There was a timer on the counter, and he let go of my hand, grabbed an oven mitt and took a cookie sheet with two small white dishes on it out. I leaned against the counter and watched him move. Man, I loved the way he knew his way around the kitchen. A deep dark chocolate smell hit me and made my mouth water.
He baked? What kind of lab was he created in? I swear if he mopped the floors and folded the laundry, I was going to have to check him for a bar code or electronic wiring.
He grabbed a plate and slid it on top of the two small white dishes. Using the oven mitt, he flipped the cookie sheet and the plate, reversing the position before dumping the cookie sheet in the sink. A small hiss shot up from it as it hit the drops of water in the sink.
“What did you make?”
“You’ll see.” He gave me a sideways smirk and reached around me. A cold blast hit me from the freezer. A giant tub of vanilla bean ice cream made its way out past my face in the grip of the man who’d pretty much stolen a cheat sheet on how to get me to lose my freaking mind. Hot guy in a tight shirt—check. Chocolate dessert—check. Ice cream—check, check, check.
He grabbed the drawer and took out an ice cream scoop. Running it under the tap, he scooped out two perfect balls of vanilla ice cream. He even had his scooping technique down. Kill me now.
A can of whipped cream finished off his excellent plating, and he pulled out a chair for me at the table. Two spoons sat on top of a napkin.
“This is my favorite dessert. My mom taught me how to cook it.” The happiness oozed from his pores.
“How could it not be? It’s chocolate.”
“It’s a chocolate lava cake, so it will be warm in the middle.”
I sliced into one of the cakes on the plate. Warm chocolate spilled out of the center, mixing with the ice cream that was melting already. His eyes were on me as I slipped the first spoonful into my mouth.
Bliss. It was a phenomenally delicious, deep dark chocolate and made me want to crawl onto the plate and never leave. My eyes that I hadn’t even realized I’d closed snapped open.
“Are you serious?” I covered my full mouth.
“What?” He had a self-satisfied grin on his face and took a bite of the dessert.
“This is so good! That’s seriously not even fair.” I hummed my appreciation and pretty much devoured the whole thing. My spoon clinked against Heath’s, and I glanced up at the laughter in his eyes. So yes, maybe I had almost completely devoured the entire plate of dessert without leaving him much. Oops.
“You were hungry, huh?”
“Sorry,” I said through a mouthful of ice cream. “I wasn’t expecting it to be so good.”
“What, did you think I was going to make you some crap?”
He picked up the plate, and I couldn’t resist dragging my finger through the last bits of chocolate on it.
“Jesus, woman, I can make you more. No need to try to eat the plate.”
“I mean, it’s not my fault someone made something so good, I had to shove my face full of it.”
He dumped the plates in the sink and laughed. I craned my neck to get a good look at the back of his. That’s where they’d put a bar code, right? Or maybe the bottom of his feet?
“I guess that means I’ll have to make it for you again.”
“I’m sure you say that to all the girls.” I licked the last bits of chocolate off my spoon.
He pushed away from the sink and stepped next to my chair. I stared up at him. The laughter was gone from his eyes, and my stomach clenched at the intensity there.
“I’ve never cooked for another woman.” His fingers cupped my chin, and he dragged his thumb across my bottom lip. He tasted like chocolate. My tongue darted out again, and the blue of his eyes gave way to black as his pupils dilated.
Our playful energy evaporated in an instant, and there was nothing but his thumb on my lip, my heart pounding against my ribs and the goose bumps all over my body.
“Never?”
“Never really wanted to until now.” He leaned over and blew out the candles on the table. The smoke trailed from the dimming wick and made the kitchen smell like a birthday.
“Oh.” Who was the articulate soon-to-be PhD student who’d talked herself out of so many discussions in class? Not me, because every word I’d ever learned fled my brain except for Heath, thumb, and chocolate.
“You’ve got some chocolate on your face.” He ran his thumb over a spot on the side of my mouth.
Before I could reach for a napkin, he bent down and pressed his lips against mine. His fingers were still on my chin, keeping my head where he wanted it.
He was all chocolaty goodness as I opened my mouth to him. A sigh escaped my mouth as he lifted me up out of my chair and settled me on the table.
Stepping between my open legs, he slid his hand along the side of my face. His fingers sank into my hair as he tilted my head up.
“I thought we were supposed to save that for midnight.” My words were choppy as I tried to gulp down air.
“I’m not patient when it comes to something I really want.” His voice came out rough and gruff, and I was seconds away from dragging him to the nearest flat surface. Hell, I was sitting on the table. That would totally do.
My not so witty reply was cut off when he delved into my mouth. Our tongues intertwined, and his hand skimmed under my shirt. A chill shot through my body as the rough pads of his fingers trailed along my waist.
I broke our connection and ripped my mouth away from his. My fingers wrapped around his bunc
hed biceps.
“I have a feeling we aren’t going to make it to midnight.”
“We’re going to make it to midnight all right, but I’m not going to be kissing these lips.” His thumb traced over my parted lips. “I’m going to be worshipping your pussy.”
My eyes got wide, and I let out a sharp gasp. He was throwing me off with his no-holds-barred tactics. It was so free with no pretenses. He was an open book, and I was ready to stay up all night flipping the pages.
He tipped me back before shooting his arm under my legs and scooping me up. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck. Blood rushed to my ears, and I clung to him in case I ended up taking a dive straight to the floor.
“Don’t worry, I got you.” His words and tight hold turned me liquid in his arms. How in the hell was I supposed to play it cool when he was looking at me like that? Biting his lips with his golden hair skimming above his ears, I mean come on! He was the picture of temptation and decadence, and my clit throbbed in time to his steps.
He climbed the stairs with his eyes making promises my body would need to catch up with once we got back to his room. We crossed the threshold, and he kicked the door closed behind him. The light glow from the hallway peeked through the gaps in the doorframe.
“You’re beautiful.” He let my feet down, and I slid down the hard planes of his chest. “We’re going to have a fun time ringing in the New Year.” He growled against the side of my face.
My heart thundered. I bit my bottom lip. The herd of horses that invaded my stomach were working triple time now.
He spun around and sat on his bed. Pulling me down on top of him, his fingers sank into my flesh. The skirt of my dress hitched around my upper thighs, and I was straddling his lap. A small gasp broke free from my throat as the insistent nudge of his cock against my fabric-covered pussy sent me into a frenzy.
Wrapping his hands around my waist, he slid me along his hard length. Sparking electricity traveled down my spine, and I cursed the clothes between me and the instrument of my undoing.
