RUFFLED
Victor returned after his phone call. “Someone needs to go down to the sales yard. The sellers don’t like the idea of delivery without someone actually walking around and approving it in person.”
Mr. Blackbourne stood up quickly, tucking his phone away and heading to the door. “I’ll go. I may need to pick up Mr. Taylor on the way as well.” He motioned to Victor and then to me. “Stay with her.”
Victor nodded solemnly, with his hands clutching the tablet and his new phone together against his chest.
Mr. Blackbourne looked once more to me, his lips twitching.
I had a lot to say to him as well, only again, we found ourselves needing to do other things.
Carol was in the way. I couldn’t help but feel we could be doing so much more with our time if we weren’t dealing with this.
Mr. Blackbourne walked out the back door this time. I imagined he was going to cut through the woods to get to the diner.
Victor went to the back door, looking through the blinds for a while. I imagined he was keeping an eye on Mr. Blackbourne. “I don’t think he’s slept,” he said quietly.
“I’m not sure any of us did. Did you?”
“Not really.” He came over to the bed and took his shoes off. He crawled on the bed to sit at my feet cross-legged. He drew my foot into his lap, holding it between his palms, warming the toes, before he started a slow and careful massage. The usual fire in his eyes had diminished to barely a glow. “You should rest. While you’ve got a chance.”
I breathed in deeply, sighing. “I will when you do.”
He smiled and gazed at my foot in his hands. His thumbs made circles against the bottom of my foot.
There was a noise deeper in the house. He looked up quickly, gazing at the door and waiting. “Is that Nathan coming back?”
“I don’t think so,” I said and then pointed to the laptop, where cameras were focused on the basketball game. “Nathan’s still out there. North’s here, though. Sleeping.”
He nodded, his eyes flickering to the door to my foot. He sighed. “Nathan’s a little ticked at me. For not telling him about…you. For keeping things to myself.”
“I told you not to.”
“I know, but I should have encouraged you a little more to tell them.”
He was right. “He did seem a little angry that you hadn’t told him. But I reminded him I was the one to tell you not to.”
“I may still want to apologize. This may be more to vent feelings than really blaming anyone. He tends to let things bottle up for a while and then burst. I need to talk to him.” He frowned a little. “I need to talk to Kota again, too.”
“You missed them both,” I said. I enjoyed that he was massaging my foot, but I was more concerned about him. I drew my foot from him so he’d look at me. “Victor, they shouldn’t be mad at you for that. I was the one that didn’t tell them.”
His lips twitched. He reached out again, but only cupped a hand across my ankle and held it. “I didn’t mean to yell at Kota so much.” His eyes closed, and it was the first time I noticed his eyelashes, long and black and something girls would be envious of. “I was just so angry when…”
I shifted again until I was on my knees on the bed. I reached for him, meaning to give him a hug and console him.
The bed shifted as I moved, threatening to throw me off as it rolled.
I got off balance and he grabbed me before I could tumble off the bed. However, I was half off and still sliding a little, upside down.
I giggled and shook my head, reaching down and touching the floor. “I don’t think I like waterbeds.”
He chuckled and tried to lift me up, but I was in an awkward position and unable to correct myself. “Probably will be easier if I let go.”
“Yeah,” I said.
He let me finish sliding to the floor, but when I got there and found the carpet was way more comfortable than the bed, I rested there, closing my eyes and covering my face with an arm. “I’m going to complain about this a thousand times before it’s over, but I really don’t want to go back to the house.”
“I know,” he said, and slid off the waterbed and onto the floor. He crawled over me, hovering close enough I could sense him, but he didn’t touch me. “You okay?”
“I’ll be better,” I said and pulled my arm away from my face.
He propped himself up on the floor beside me, leaning into me. “Is this better?”
I meekly nodded, feeling close and hidden with him on the floor behind the bed. It was easier to relax than trying to balance on the waterbed.
His lips curled into a smirk. “Tell me what you want to do. Are we doing this right?”
“Yes,” I said quietly. “I guess so. I can’t think of what else to do.”
“I can’t, either,” he said. He placed a gentle hand against my face, brushing at my cheek. “I know I’d rather take you back home. Or anywhere else.”
I had a hand on his arm, and my fingers twitched, tapping slightly without any rhythm. I slowed when I looked at his eyes, the fire that simmered now. “I’m sorry,” I said.
He shook his head, blinked at me. He moved his hand from my face to rest against my stomach, just shy of my rib cage. “For what? Why?”
“No one told me you were thinking of getting out from your house, too,” I said. “Not until today. We’re spending more time on me. Again. I’m stalling things for you.”
He gently gripped my stomach, some of the fabric of the shirt wrinkling against my skin. “No, no…sweetie.” He leaned in slowly until he could kiss my brow and spoke more softly. “My situation at home isn’t like yours. You can’t compare it.”
“But your dad…”
He gripped my stomach a little tighter and then relaxed it. He was very warm and then breathed out hotly against me.
After a moment, he sat up against the bed. “My parents want me to be their puppet. Like wearing this…” He tugged the sweater off and tossed it onto a chair in the corner. He undid his tie as well and put it on the bed behind him.
I sat up next to him, sliding close to be beside him as he adjusted his shirt.
He untucked it and unbuttoned it completely, revealing a white tank shirt underneath. The shirt framed his strong, lean chest and abdomen. He kept the sleeves rolled up. When he was done, he tilted his head back and made a grunt in his throat. “Being around my team…around you…it’s like the only time I don’t feel I’m being watched and judged.”
“I wish you didn’t have to feel like that at all,” I said.
He smirked a little and kissed my forehead. “Then maybe you can stay around all the time,” he whispered against my skin.
“I’d like to,” I said quietly. I turned to him and reached for his hand, only he moved it at the last moment and I ended up pressing my hand against his stomach instead.
My cheeks were on fire, but I left my hand there, warming his skin and holding him. I stared down at it.
He shifted, reaching to place a hand at my hip and side, pulling me near.
My hand drifted up to his chest. I admired his chest and felt the ripples in the tank shirt he wore and how it framed his lean body.
His head tilted until he caught my eyes, but his gaze traveled to my lips quickly.
He leaned in more and kissed me.
I held still, braced by the bed at my back. I kissed him slowly, as easily as he could play a song on the piano. I was getting comfortable kissing them.
I relaxed my mouth, my tongue sliding out to touch his lips.
He sucked in a breath and backed up, the fire in his eyes blazing. He said nothing, only looked over my face and my lips again.
He leaned back in, kissing, lips parting shortly after. His tongue touched my lips, just once.
I reached out with mine.
He suckled it and his tongue disappeared. He continued to kiss without it.
I followed his lead. Did he not like it? I couldn’t tell.
His hand slipped from my stomach, sliding up toward my ribs. His grip was a little stronger, pulling me into him.
I was moving without thought, wanting to go where he wanted me, until he guided me to straddle his lap, sitting on top of him.
I sucked in a breath between kisses as I held onto his shoulder, trying to balance myself. Being higher than him, it was a little strange to be kissing down.
He held me by the waist for a moment and then reached back, tugging off the Armani shirt, tossing it to the floor. His hands came back to me, to my waist again, and then slid down my hips.
My heart raced. His kisses became stronger.
He made it too easy to forget where I was and what I had to do later. This was an escape, a moment where I could pretend it was just him and me.
The sliding door to the back porch rattled for a second and opened quickly, too quick for me to consider what it was and move.
Victor just managed to push me slightly to stop kissing, but kept his arms around my back protectively and sat up to face whoever it was. I twisted around.
Silas had paused a foot inside the room, gazing down at us on the floor, his broad body angled to come in fully but frozen. His mouth parted, his big dark eyes never leaving me.
I didn’t know what else to do, so I tumbled out of Victor’s lap, landing in a twist on my butt.
I used the bed to start to push up and stand. “I…hey…”
Silas blinked, frowning. He wore a Bob’s Diner shirt with the emblem on the pocket, but the material seemed to be stretched a little thin against his wide shoulders and arms. His hand gripped the door handle. “There wasn’t…a sock…”
“What?” I choked out. “A…”
“There didn’t need to be one,” Victor said quietly. He turned to me on the floor and offered a hand to help me up.
Silas’s dark gaze fell on me as I stood and he frowned. He only looked at me. “Victor…”
“Yes?”
Silas closed his eyes. “If you want this to work, I need you to leave the room for a minute.”
“What?”
Silas’s voice tensed, and his arms flexed. “Please. Just in the hallway or something… just for a minute.”
I shared a look with Victor, who nodded quietly and moved to the bedroom door. He went out, closing the door behind him. His footsteps faded a little as he went into the kitchen.
My heart was wild against my chest. Fear twisted the hard rock sitting in my stomach. “Silas…” I whispered. It was like Kota finding Gabriel and me kissing all over again. It didn’t matter if they were okay with it—they would always need to be able to walk in, and I couldn’t let myself forget.
Silas made sure the rear sliding door was locked and turned to me. His arms were down, and he stared more at my stomach than at my face. “I’m not angry,” he said quietly. “I’m not…”
“I’m sorry you saw it,” I said. “I know…”
His shoulders lifted as he took in a breath and then dropped again. He lifted his gaze to meet mine.
He stepped closer. My ears filled with the sound of my thundering pulse. I wasn’t afraid of him. I was sorry. I thought of what Kota said, how he couldn’t stop seeing me and Gabriel kissing, and how he struggled not to be angry.
He reached out his hand, palm up. “Come here?” he asked. “Please?”
I placed my hand in his, trusting him and stepping closer.
He tugged me until he pulled me into a hug. A deep Silas hug where I was slowly lifted off the floor.
His arm went under me, until I had my legs wrapped around his waist and I held on to his neck. He smelled heavily of his ocean scent, and of grease from the diner.
He held me up with one arm and turned his head until he could press his face toward mine. Eyes closed. Lips parting.
I kissed him.
He kissed me.
Hard.
Harder than I’d felt from him before. It was odd to have felt Victor a moment ago, and then him in such a desperate kiss.
So odd when I’d kissed others before now. But at least each time I’d had a few moments between them. It somehow separated it in my mind.
However right now, I was still feeling the fire Victor had been sparking in me, and then I felt waves flowing over me from Silas. Strong currents pulling me into him, redirecting my brain to think of him instead.
He kissed deeply, the Greek way like he’d told me.
When I needed to catch my breath, he continued to kiss.
He brought me to the bed, and in a heap, we collapsed together, creating a slightly larger wave. He hovered over me, a knee on either side of my hip.
With his broad body, I felt hidden, safe and secure. I luxuriated in the feeling.
His lips found my neck. He suckled it, like his Greek kisses, and then deeper. Not a bite, not like North would do. It was just deep, strong.
My eyes rolled into the back of my head and I gasped. I gripped his shoulders. The sensation it created was unexpected. It didn’t have the intensity of a bite, but it felt deep and tingly.
He kept his lips on the spot, clinging to it. His hand lowered to my stomach.
To the spot between my groin and belly button.
His fingers traced the spot over my shirt, not tickling. It was a sensation that sparked inside me that drifted through my body. I became breathless, holding on to his shoulders. My brain seemed to stop working. There was only his fingers, his kisses. There was only him with me, and I desperately wanted this to continue.
I couldn’t, though. I fought that wave of wanting to forget everything and just let this continue. To kiss him. To spend time with him.
I grasped his shirt, feeling how tight it was against his flexed muscles. “Silas,” I gasped. “I…” I didn’t want to make him stop, but I didn’t want someone else to walk in.
Part of me was afraid that I’d let go, so desperate for affection and love. That feeling inside me scared me.
He suckled a little harder, just for a moment, and then released me, kissing the spot. His hot breath fell over me as he lifted himself and rolled over.
The result from the bubble had me flopping my way to the head of the bed, stopped only by the headboard. I rolled onto my back, breathless, still feeling my neck, the place he had focused on.
He twisted his head to look at me. He reached a hand out to touch my arm. “If I see it,” he said quietly, “like this…I just…I need you. I can handle it. Give me this.”
I nodded slowly, unsure if this could always be the case. Kicking Victor out to kiss me—while I understood, I didn’t think that would work with everyone.
We kept interrupting each other. This was going to be a problem.
Especially if Victor or the others started moving out. We’d be around each other all the time.
It reinforced more than ever that I needed the notebook that would help me find the words to explain my feelings. I wanted to make them happy. And I needed to put the work in so I knew what they needed.