Deepen The Kiss

by Willow Winters

  I look up at the sounds of running water and dishes being stacked together.

  Tony and Sandra are washing the dishes together in the large porcelain farmhouse sink. I'm rereading the last paragraph I just read. I can't concentrate.

  I can’t think about anything except Derek. My phone rings and I look at the number, but I have no idea who it is. The caller ID just displays numbers on the screen. I debate on not answering, but then it hits me. It could be him.

  “Hello?” I answer as calmly as possible, trying not to seem like I’m dying inside for it to be Derek.

  “Morning, sweetheart.” A wave of relief and something else go through my body when I hear his voice. “What are you up to?” he asks.

  I can’t help the smile on my face as I tap a pen on my textbook. I’ve always been so conflicted when it comes to Derek. I can’t help that I want him. I’m drawn to him, even knowing it’s wrong.

  My face flushes as I realize Tony and Sandra are watching me closely.

  “Uhh, nothing. Just studying,” I say quietly, turning away from my audience. “How about you?”

  I can hear Sandra whispering something not-so-quietly to Tony. I close my eyes and just ignore them.

  “Not much.” He’s gonna ask me out. I can feel it. My eyes pop open as I wait to hear the words. God, I feel so young and naive again. “I was just thinking about you, and I need to see you again. You wanna go out tomorrow night?” he asks. Yes!

  I start to answer how I would have all those years ago. Of course. Whatever you want. I would have followed him anywhere back then.

  But this time, I hesitate. We were two dumb kids in puppy love. Now we’re adults, and this is real life.

  And I need to know what his business is. I tap the pen a little faster on the textbook.

  “You there?” I hear him ask.

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m free.” I can go. I should go, if for no other reason than just to talk. But I know there’s more to it than talking. I know I’m heading down a path that’s going to suck me in and threaten to take over.

  “Yes!” I hear Sandra squeal in the kitchen, her feet padding against the floor. I don’t have to turn around to know she’s practically running in place.

  I shake my head, my hand over my eyes. I love my sister, but what was she thinking? My heart squeezes in my chest.

  “Great. I'll pick you up at eight,” he says in that deep voice that makes me want his lips on me.

  “See you then,” I say softly into the phone, feeling a mixture of emotions running through my blood.

  “Bye sweetheart,” he says.

  I really should have said no, but the butterflies in my stomach and everything in our past are clouding my judgment.

  I just hope this isn’t a huge mistake.

  CHAPTER 6

  Derek

  I’ve got it bad. All I wanted to do yesterday was pick her up. I knew she’d be home alone and studying. Some things never change.

  I take a look at her in the passenger seat as I slow down at the red light, my Porsche humming smoothly.

  She’s playing with the hem of her dress and mouthing along to the song on the radio.

  “I like this one,” she says sweetly when she sees I’m looking at her. A beautiful blush rises to her cheeks and she tucks a strand of her hair that’s escaped from her bun behind her ear.

  “Why are you so nervous today?” I ask her. The way she’s looking away from me and shifting in her seat makes it more than obvious that she’s apprehensive about something. It’s more than that though. She seems uncomfortable. Like she’s second-guessing this.

  There’s a tension between us. I expected it. We’re still feeling each other out, I guess. We haven’t talked about anything, but I don’t really plan on it. I want her, so I’m taking her. It’s that simple.

  I don’t like that she’s so uneasy though. It takes her a moment before she’s able to answer me. “Do you still deal?”

  I hate her question. Do I still deal? Some. I’m not the dealer though. I’m the supplier. And it’s pot, for fuck's sake. I look out of the window, regretting the awkward tension between us and then drive through the intersection, the quiet air becoming thick.

  I lick my lips and pull into the parking lot of Mariani’s Bistro. It’s one of my places of business. It’s close to my place, and it’s a nice restaurant which should impress her.

  She clears her throat uncomfortably and barely gets out, “Sorry. I shouldn’t ask.”

  No, she shouldn’t. The fewer questions, the better. There’s no reason for her to know anything other than I’ll provide for her. I’ll keep her safe.

  But she doesn’t really know either of those things. She’s gotta realize I’m well off by now. The suits and car shoulda given that away. Maybe that’s why she’s asking.

  “I just heard-” she starts to say, but then she shuts her mouth.

  “What’s that, Sweetheart?”

  “I heard you run the town?”

  It’s a fucking stupid expression. I don’t agree with it either. I’ve got money and I like investing, so I’ve got my hands in plenty of pockets. Tony likes that particular saying though.

  “Fucking Tony,” I mutter, staring away from her and out the driver’s side window.

  “Look, last night-”

  “Last night was everything I’ve wanted since you left me.” I can hear her looking for any excuse to bail. I see it in her eyes. But I’m not going to let her walk away so easily this time. It’s not happening.

  “You don’t like that I deal, do you?” I’m blunt. I’ll get straight to the point and put this shit to bed.

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Is that the only thing?” I ask her.

  She takes in a steady breath and nods her head. It fucking sucks, 'cause it’s not like this is a job I can just walk away from.

  “It pays the bills. It’s not really illegal.”

  “It is really illegal,” she says straight faced.

  Selling pot isn’t so bad. It’s legal in some states. This is a college town, and I keep my business as clean as possible. But some of the shit I’ve done has definitely crossed the line. I rub the back of my neck sighing before turning back to her. Just let it be sweetheart. I’ll take care of her; that’s what matters.

  The look on her face tells me it’s not going to be that easy though.

  I shrug. She has no right to judge me. She doesn’t know what a shit hand I’ve been dealt. I turn the car off and the radio dies, leaving the car filled with silence.

  “I don’t lose any sleep over it.” That’s a lie. The second I say it, I regret it. She crosses her arms over her chest, gripping onto her forearms and looking out of the window. It’s dark and cold outside. Her head falls against the window gently, and her breath fogs up the glass.

  She’s completely closed off now, and I know it’s 'cause I was short with her.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” I never say sorry, but seeing her hurt and disappointed fucking kills me. Anyone else? I’d say fuck 'em. But it’s Emma. “I just don’t want you to get involved with this. You don’t need to know this shit.”

  “But I want to be involved with you,” she says so quietly I almost don’t hear. “I remember how I fell for you, Derek. It’s scaring me. I don’t want to fall for someone who’s...” she doesn’t finish that sentence and it fucking shreds me.

  Who’s a criminal.

  Who’s no good for her.

  “I’m not a knight in shining armor, Emma. But I’m not gonna hurt you. And I won’t let anyone else hurt you either.” I can promise her that. She looks away, and is quiet for a moment. The chill of the night starts creeping into the car, but I’m not starting it again. I’m taking her out, whether she likes it or not.

  “Have you ever killed anyone?” Emma asks softly. Like she’s afraid of the answer. She turns her head to the side, peeking at me from the corner of her eye.

  I don’t answer her. I don’t want to. When she knew me, I was
just a peddler. I needed money for Ma, and I did shit I wasn’t proud of. When Emma left me, I only got deeper and deeper into this life. I had nothing else going for me.

  And in this line of business, death happens.

  When you have a name that people recognize, some pricks are going to challenge you. It doesn’t happen anymore, but it did in the past.

  The only name coming to mind right now is my father’s though.

  I turn away from her and lean back in my seat, running my hand through my hair. “You know you don’t wanna know the answer to that, sweetheart.” I can’t look at her when I answer. I know just the way her forehead pinches and her beautiful lips turn down when she’s upset. And I can’t fucking stand it.

  Killing my father didn’t feel the same as the other fuckers. Those assholes had it coming. It was me or them, and it was all business, nothing personal.

  When my father came back and started thinking he had rights to the money I was giving Ma, it was personal.

  She needed that money. She deserves a good life, and she still doesn’t know what I do. That fucker thought he could come back and beat on the two of us just like he used to. He only got two swings in until he was on the ground, choking on his own blood as I landed my fist over and over.

  Tony had to pry me off of him. I don’t know how long he’d been dead.

  “Don’t ask questions you don’t wanna know the answers to,” I finally tell her. I look deep into those beautiful hazel eyes and I see something I’ve never seen before, a hint of fear.

  “I never enjoyed it. I don’t go looking for trouble. But for a while, trouble came to me.”

  “You didn’t have to-”

  “You don’t know, Emma.” My words come out sharp, and she looks as if I’ve slapped her. I’m gutted by the expression on her face and the fear in her eyes.

  Fuck, I wish I could pull her into my lap right now and comfort her like I used to do. I’d just hold her, leaning my seat all the way back and letting her lie on top of me. We’d make out, and she’d let me feel her up. My hands would travel along her curves, making her shiver.

  I reach down to hit the button and push my seat back, so we can do just that. I’ll make her forget. I’ll make her not care about anything other than wanting my touch, but she speaks up, finally breaking the silence.

  “I wanna be with you,” she says softly, catching me off guard. “But it doesn’t feel right, knowing what you do.” There’s so much pain in her voice.

  I reach over and rest my hand on her thigh, tilting my head so I can see her.

  “You aren’t supposed to know,” I tell her easily. “You think your sister knows what Tony does?” I ask her. I speak before thinking. I shouldn’t say shit about Tony and his job. He’s my enforcer. If Emma thinks it's wrong that I've killed a few men, she’d be horrified by the shit Tony’s done. “He’s in the business.”

  “I’m not getting into that. It’s her concern, not mine” Emma says with a hard edge. I didn’t expect that from her. And I don’t like it.

  “You knew what I did before you got in this car, Emma.” I look straight ahead. Across the barrier is a parking lot to another shopping strip. It’s mostly empty since it’s so late, and all the stores are closed. “I can promise you, it’ll never come back to you.” I can say that in good faith. She’s safe with me.

  Emma starts biting on her thumbnail, looking out of the window and thinking. I can practically see the wheels turning in her head. She’s so different from any other woman I’ve met.

  Usually, it’s the lifestyle they want. That’s what attracts them to me. And precisely why I’m not interested.

  She’s too good for me. I’ve always known that. I grip the leather steering wheel and clear my throat to get her attention.

  “I have other businesses, too.” I have seventeen, to be exact. And the only one that has me crossing over into the grey areas of the law is the dope.

  “You do?” Emma asks.

  “Yeah, like this restaurant.” I nod to my left.

  “You own this place?” she asks as she leans forward and looks out of the window. The warm yellow glow from the large bay windows out front spills onto the pure white snow falling around the building.

  “Only fifty-one percent. But yeah, it’s mine. I own a few of 'em.” Her sassy little mouth parts open slightly, and then closes shut. “Now you’re impressed?” I ask her with a cocked brow.

  She looks down at her hands in her lap and then back up at me. “Can you really blame me?” She’s smiling a little, which is a good sign. At least the shock is taking away from all that other shit.

  I huff a laugh at her disbelief and then shift in my seat to face her. “I’m not a bad guy. And I don’t do stupid shit.”

  She starts to say something at that last line, and I have to cut her off.

  “Not when I can help it.” She looks at me warily and then settles down.

  “I wanna be good for you though, Emma. I always have.”

  “I don’t know.” She swallows thickly, and I can tell she’s so close to letting it go.

  Don’t tell me no, sweetheart. Just give in.

  “Come on in with me,” I tell her, taking her small hand in mine. She lets me bring her hand to my lips, and I kiss her knuckles. That gets me a small smile at least. “I just wanna feed you.”

  Emma laughs gently, shaking her head and leaning the back of her head against the window but staring at me. “Don’t lie to me, Derek,” she says playfully.

  “Me? I’d never lie to you.” My heart stutters in my chest. I’d keep the truth from her. That’s for damn sure. But I’ll never lie to her outright.

  “You don’t just wanna feed me,” she says softly, biting her bottom lip.

  “Oh yeah,” I say and lean forward, resting my hand on her thigh while still holding her other hand. My thumb rubs soothing circles on her wrist. “And what is it I wanna do to you then?” I ask her. I lean closer to her, daring her to say something. My lips are only an inch away from hers.

  “You wanna fuck me,” she says in a breathy voice.

  My cock hardens instantly. She’s right about that.

  “Well, I wanna feed you first.” She smiles softly and then quickly gives me a peck before opening the door and sliding out, leaving me hard as fuck and wanting more.

  CHAPTER 7

  Emma

  * * *

  I’LL GIVE him just one chance. It’s only one night. I can handle this.

  As I climb out of the car, I pull my coat tighter around me. It’s so cold. He shuts the door behind me, still holding my hand and pulling me close to him.

  He wraps his arm around my waist, and I lean into him. I can feel his warmth through my jacket.

  I’m so fucked. Nothing he admits will ward me away. I already know it. Even as I asked him if he’d ever killed before, I was already making excuses for him. My heart stopped beating, and my body felt cold. I wanted him to deny it, even though I already knew the truth.

  I was ruined the day he took me home five years ago. That day changed me forever. I’ve never stopped wanting him, even knowing the person he truly is.

  “So this is your place?” I ask him in a whisper as we walk up the snow-dusted path.

  “I only own fifty-one percent, and I don’t really do the work. I’m more of a financial investor,” he answers as he opens the door. I’m instantly hit with a wave of warmth, the faint sounds of chatter surrounding us as the door closes and we’re finally inside.

  His restaurant is beautiful. I’ve never been here before, and it’s definitely new. I love carbs and every Italian dish I’ve ever met. I want to ask him how this all happened, when it was built. But I don’t want to question him if it means prying into…the other business. I grip my wristlet and gently clear my throat, taking in the luxurious atmosphere.

  The deep mahogany floors and matching trim contrast with the cream-colored walls. Round café style tables fill the center of the room that’s bordered by booths. The
tables are all covered with deep red linen tablecloths, with a candle and one white rose in the center of each. Ornate wrought iron chandeliers hang from the exposed beam ceiling.

  It looks so much bigger inside than it did from the outside.

  He nods at the maître d', who obviously recognizes Derek, and then continues to lead me back, not stopping for a moment. His hand is splayed on my lower back as he walks us to a corner booth in the rear of the restaurant, away from everyone else.

  I’m trying to calm down, but it suddenly hits me that this is more intimate, more serious than anything we’ve ever done.

  This is a date. Like a real live date. My skin pricks, and anxiety flows through my blood as if just realizing what this is.

  A public date. Not a secret. My heart beats a little faster as I peek up at him from the corner of my eye, a violent blush lighting my cheeks on fire.

  Derek Wade is…taking me on a first date. My heart flips, and I nervously tuck a bit of hair behind my ear, turning away from him.

  “It’s quiet back here,” I say timidly as he slides into the middle of the curved booth, facing the crowd. I sit down at the end of the black leather bench, but he motions for me to sit next to him, not across from him.

  “I won’t bite.”

  Somehow my cheeks flame even hotter, and I do as he says. I slide around the circular table, and he pulls me in close. I stare at my hands in my lap, my fingers twisting around each other. I just need to calm down.

  Soft classical music spills from the speakers above us and being so far in the back, it’s slightly darker here, cozier.

  He only wants to feed me.

  The thought makes me roll my eyes, but at least it puts me at ease.

  “I like the privacy,” Derek says, breaking the silence. I don’t have a moment to respond.

  “Good evening Mr. Wade, my name is Peter and I’ll be your waiter for the evening,” a young man says as he approaches the table. He gives me a small, polite smile as he places a bread basket in front of us before turning his attention to Derek.