Objective (Bloodlines #2)(11)
“I might kiss you,” he stated.
“I might be bad at it,” I countered, smirking.
“That's not possible,” he whispered. “Have you ever been kissed, Cy?” Those damn butterflies took flight again. His eyes were a clear amber color, so intense and hypnotizing. I tried to remember the question so I could answer it for him.
“Summer camp, once, but it was just a peck, so I don't count it. Why?” I asked.
“Because I’m going to kiss you now,” he said as he leaned down towards me. Our eyes met and he dipped his head until our lips were a breath apart. Every fiber of my being was crying out for him to kiss me. When he didn't, I opened my mouth to protest and that's when he claimed my mouth, urgent and giving all at the same time. I melted into him. My knees started to give out so I clung to him. His strong arms held me to his chest. He cupped my face with both hands and stopped, touching his nose to mine. “I like that I can be your first,” he growled. This. Man. Was. Hot. He tilted his head just so, and softly brushed his lips on mine. Electricity shot through my body. I’d never felt so turned on in my life, not that I’d had much experience to go on. This kiss was one that would ruin a person for life. This kiss was everything I’d ever read about in sappy romance books. My body responded immediately to him as he deepened the kiss, opening my mouth to his. It was a foot popping kiss. My arms wrapped around his neck and I pushed up on my tiptoes to gain better purchase. When his tongue leisurely slipped into my mouth I moaned and hoped like hell that I wasn’t a terrible kisser. His hands moved from my face to my hair as he held me close to his body. “I don't ever want this kiss to stop,” I remember thinking, feeling it in my toes. I molded myself against his hard, tall yet lean body as our kiss became more aggressive. Just as I was ready to do anything he asked of me, he stiffened and slowly ended our kiss, pulling back from me. I didn't let him get far. I felt like a starved woman.
“Slow down, baby girl. We have all the time in the world,” he cooed to me. Suddenly I felt embarrassed at my lack of experience and I knew that my cheeks had reddened. I dropped my arms and my eyes to the ground, feeling foolish. “Hey,” he cupped my chin and tilted it up, “none of that. You didn't do anything wrong. That was the best kiss I’ve ever had but if I didn't stop now, we wouldn't have stopped at all. Are you ready for all, baby girl?” he asked softly. My eyes felt like they were bugging out of my head at his insinuation. I shook my head ‘no’ a few times as he chuckled at me. He brushed the pads of his thumbs over my cheeks gently. “So sweet,” he said, before grabbing my hand and continuing to the ice cream stand for dessert.
“UP!” a voice booms at me. I sit up with a jolt and lose my balance. My equilibrium is completely off. Tumbling backwards off the bar stool I scream as I anticipate hitting the floor hard. My eyes are squeezed shut as I wait for impact. It doesn't come. Two firm arms, large arms, hold me suspended in the air. I try to focus my eyes more because it looks like I’m staring up at a face, and behind it is ceiling - not wall. I am frozen in his arms. The trembling starts almost immediately. Shame. I feel nothing but shame with his hands on me. My breathing goes next. I can’t seem to capture a full breath. This wall of a man needs to get his damned hands off of me.
“Hands off!” I rattle out, shaken.
“Come with me,” the large black linebacker huffs at me as he sets me on my feet. I sway a little and reach out to the bar to steady myself. I feel dirty. I need to scrub myself clean. The urge to do so is overwhelming. I count to ten silently, taking deep breaths as I do.
“Um, no,” I say, finally finding my voice. A chill goes through my body from the lingering feeling of his hands on me. I haven’t had more than the accidental brush of someone walking past me for human contact in weeks. I don’t want anyone to touch me ever again.
“If you want the job, then yes.” His voice sounds like sandpaper. Rough and alluring.
“What?” I huff.
“If you want the job you just landed then yes, you will come with me,” he snaps, looking thoroughly irritated. What the hell is this dude talking about? I stare at him bewildered and wish for the first time in weeks that I was sober. He motions me to follow him yet again and as I look around the empty bar, since it is a Wednesday at four pm, I decide to follow him. I don’t really have anything to lose in life. He leads me around the corner of the bar and through a set of double doors. The hallway is dimly lit. Wood paneling lines the walls as we make our way to a door at the end of the narrow corridor. I reach out and poke the big guy’s back hesitantly.
“Uh, what’s happening?” I ask.
“You must have a real convincing cousin,” he states, saying nothing more. Oh crap, Aster. I totally forgot I called her. I feel around my pockets for my phone but it’s AWOL. Double crap. Big man pushes through the door and holds it open for me to enter. I take a tentative step back inside.
“You must be Magnolia,” a soft voice says. I survey the room slowly until I land on a woman’s face. She’s sitting behind a softly lit desk peering at her computer screen. The office is minimalistic at best but still somehow warm feeling. The lights are all low and all the furniture has clean lines and is black. There are splashes of turquoise and yellow in all the artwork surrounding her desk. “I’m Penny,” she says. “Sit.” I try to unscrunch my face but it’s all screwed up in confusion. My linebacker escort nudges the small of my back to get me moving. I recoil at the contact and quickly move to the chair across from Penny to avoid any more unnecessary contact. Her short blonde hair is cut in a cute bob and hangs perfectly in place at her jawline. She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose slightly and finally looks to me.