Nine
Bethany
The following night, my phone lit up with an incoming call. I paused the movie I’d just started and darted into my room, surprised to find Jenson’s number on the screen. A smile flashed on my face when I answered. I’d come to look forward to his daily nagging.
“Hello?”
“Hey babe, what’s shakin’?”
A giggle erupted from my throat at his answer.
“Not a lot,” I said when I’d composed myself. “I just started an awful documentary I have to watch for class. It’s torture.”
“Need a friend to be tortured with?”
“You want to come watch with me? I’m telling you, no one should have to be subjected to this stuff.”
“Sure, I’ll come snuggle on the couch and watch bad TV with you. No need to twist my arm, Bethany.”
I burst out laughing again, finding I was actually looking forward to spending some time with him.
“I’ll pop some popcorn.”
“Well now, that’s starting to sound suspiciously like a date.”
“I can assure you, it’s definitely not,” I laughed.
“Well, either way, it sounds like a good time. I’ll be there in ten?”
“Perfect.” I hung up, my cheeks still turned up in an impossible grin. Damn if Jenson wasn’t getting to me, his charm and sense of humor, the dogged persistence, and, oh yeah, the incredible good looks and the reminder of his hands on my skin.
I sighed, turning to my closet and wondering if I should change. For the first time, I actually cared what I was wearing now that he was coming over.
I rifled through a few hangers before deciding I didn’t want to try too hard or encourage him—he didn’t need anything in that respect. I pulled on a tank top and a pair of casual shorts.
Simple, sporty, comfortable. What did he expect? It was after 9 p.m. on a weeknight, and I had an early class.
This was not a date.
Not at all.
But then why did my stomach feel like it was humming with energy at the prospect of sitting next to him on the couch?
I ran a brush through my hair for good measure, then rushed out to the kitchen, pulling microwave popcorn from the cupboard and popping it in the microwave. Just as the timer went off, the doorbell rang.
“Showtime,” I murmured, wondering what in the hell I was thinking inviting him over to watch this stupid documentary with me. He would probably want to bail within thirty minutes.
“Hi.” I swung the door open, plastering on my most casual smile.
“Evenin’.” He planted a gentlemanly kiss on the apple of my cheek. “You look beautiful.”
“Stop, you’re embarrassing me.”
“Don’t be. A beautiful woman deserves to be told so.” His words dusted across the shell of my ear, sending a shiver coursing through me. My eyes fluttered closed as I enjoyed the sensations washing through me. I’d never felt this way before. Never in my entire life could someone turn my stomach upside down with just a few words.
“Jenson?” I sang, not even sure what was on my lips.
“Don’t say anything, Bethany.” The pad of his thumb traced the line from my temple down to my cheek. “I’m a patient man.”
I sucked in a breath, not even sure what to say.
“Hope you like red wine.” He lifted the bottle in his hand.
I smiled, thankful he’d changed the subject. “Yes.”
I waved him in, his heavy footfalls trailing behind me. I wondered if he was checking me out, the shorts I’d pulled on suddenly feeling too tight too short, too revealing for his hungry eyes.
“Popcorn and wine are definitely a date,” he said teasingly when we reached the kitchen, the scent of the buttery kernels in the air.
“I don’t know what kind of dates you’re used to…” I trailed off.
“I don’t date,” he stated simply.
“What?” I spun, shock no doubt clear on my face.
“Too busy. Never met anyone who seemed worth it.” His icy blues blazed into me, pregnant with unspoken words.
I paused, finally breaking eye contact and reaching for two wine glasses. Jenson opened the bottle, pouring us each a half a glass while I dumped the popcorn into a bowl.
“Ready to learn about the discovery of penicillin?”
“Penicillin?!” His face twisted adorably.
“Told you it was boring. Maybe we can fast-forward a few parts.”
“No, no, I’m in. More couch time is a good thing, no fast-forwarding allowed.”
“Look at you, Mr. Responsible.” I smiled as we walked into the living room.
I hit play on the documentary as we settled on the couch. The opening scenes started, and my stomach swam. I was oddly aware of every sensation as I sat next to him, so close, just inches apart.
I cut a glance out of the corner of my eye to find him watching me, one hand resting on his thigh. Golden hair dusted his wrist, and I wondered what it would feel like beneath my fingertips. I wondered how it would feel to wrap my legs around his waist again.
I’d been so damn drunk the last time we’d done that, it felt like a lifetime ago, the snippets of our passion hazy in my mind.
The scene changed, flashing across the scene. Outside, the sun had completely set, and the room was now awash in total darkness, save the screen.
This felt more like a date than ever. My heartbeat kicked up a notch as I shifted in my seat, crossing my legs and angling toward him.
I picked at my nails and shifted a glance at him. His sweet blue eyes held mine, crinkling up in a smile as we caught each other looking.
Awkward giggles erupted between us, and I’d never even felt this much like a teenager, not even when I was a one.
“Pay attention,” he mock-scolded. My grin deepened for a moment, and I shifted closer to him.
“You’re so strict with the rules,” I joked, then turned back to the screen, only noticing out of the corner of my eye that he’d shifted, too. Closer.
“I think about that night all the time.” His words hung in the air between us.
My heart nearly fell to the floor as I swallowed, thinking what I could possibly say to that. Me, too?
“How you felt beneath me.” He shifted closer. “How you tasted.” Two long fingertips danced across my shoulder, and I was suddenly very sure that he was not watching the movie. “I can’t stop thinking about having you again.”
I licked my lips, suddenly aware of every nerve in my body tingling and burning with his words.
“Tell me why I shouldn’t kiss you right now.” He tipped my chin to his. “Give me one good reason and I won’t.” His eyes trained on me, searching my face.
I felt arousal pooling between my legs and dampening my panties, the need for his body against mine so strong and powerful I didn’t have any kind of sense to turn away. Without thinking, I lunged across the couch at him, my hands dove in his hair, my thighs wrapped around his waist just like I’d been dreaming of.
I ground my core against his pelvis, the steely press of his erection grinding against my center and relieving the ache only just briefly.
His tongue lashed inside my mouth. His hands trailed up my skin, spanning the expanse of my back, wrapping my hair around one fist and tilting my head away from him. His lips hovered at my skin, dusting across the curve of my neck, his tongue laving up the line of my throat before his teeth nipped across the horizontal line of my collarbone.
Small whimpers escaped my throat as he covered my body in his touch.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you, of this,” I confessed.
His hands landed at my waist and tightened.
“I’m trying to do the right thing,” I murmured as I rocked my hips, my words lost in the air as I moaned between pants.
“Fuck the right thing, Bethany. You’re all I want,” he growled, his hand gripping my hair tighter. His tongue crawled across my jawline, then he smashed my lips against his in a punishing kiss. Our tongues tangled, and we kissed so hard I was sure my lips would be bruised in the morning. This was what I’d been missing in my drink-fueled haze—these moments, the feel of his lips, the bite of his teeth, the press of his thumbs at my hips.
“I wake up every morning, and I’m thinking of you. I want to put you to bed at night,” his hands cupped my ass cheeks, grinding me against his erection, “and wake up to you every single morning.”
“I’m pretty sure I met the most beautiful man on earth at work today.” My sister crashed through the front door.
“Taylor!” I shrieked and shot back to my corner of the couch.
“What’s wrong?!” My sister spun, an umbrella in her hands, ready to use it as a club. Her eyes must have adjusted to the darkness because she cocked her head and said, “Jenson?”
“Hey, Taylor.” He waved at her jovially.
“Oh…” My sister’s grin split her face. “Date night?”
“Oh my God.” I pressed my forehead into my hands.
“She still won’t agree to a date. I’m working on her, though.”
“She can be a total prude.”
“Taylor!”
She shrugged and dropped the umbrella and purse from her shoulder. “Anyone want pizza?”
“No!” I replied just as Jenson said, “Yes.”
“Perfect, pineapple and bacon okay?”
“This night couldn't get any worse,” I groaned as she shuffled through drawers in the kitchen.
Jenson laughed next to me. “She’s entertaining at least.”
“You’re being generous,” I countered, finally settling down after being interrupted, inching my way closer to him again.
“Well, on the bright side, we made out for so long the movie is half over.” He winked at me.
I couldn’t help my cheesy grin at that.
This night had turned out to be so much more than I’d ever imagined.
And I’d kissed Jenson. I’d given in to him, and letting go of the control for once had felt…incredible.