Breathe In (Just Breathe, #1)(71)
Joe remembered my statement when Henry, Maggie, he and I were driving around Pasadena almost a month ago? Wow. I had said so many different things that day.
“You know the museum is closed, right?”
“Not for us,” he insists.
An older gentleman standing just inside the large glass doors bows as we approach. “Good evening Mr. Covelli.”
“Let me guess, your family knows someone,” I tease into his ear.
“No. But, they’re very accommodating for a more than generous benefactor of the foundation.”
“Of course,” I agree.
I should have known or expected this.
Mr. Brookes, the gentleman who greeted us, directs us through the exquisite Norton Simon Museum. He stays in each room with us to answer any questions we may have, but keeps his distance as not to intrude. Other than Mr. Brookes, Joe and I are alone as we soak in the marvelous masterpieces of paintings and sculptures.
The museum houses more than twelve thousand works of art, but only displays roughly a thousand between the galleries and the outdoor gardens. Other than two temporary exhibit sections, the rest of the stunning artwork ranges from Asian Art, European Art from the fourteenth through the nineteenth centuries, and modern and contemporary art from all around the world and some even from California. Many of the pieces were all original owned by Mr. Norton Simon who was an industrialist. He later joined the original museum board of directors and assisted in reshaping the structure of the company as well as donating his entire collection.
Joe follows me through the museum, always keeping one of his hands on the small of my back. The warmth of his body is invigorating and my body leans in on occasion desiring more.
Standing by Pablo Picasso’s Woman with a Book, Joe places his hands on my waist and states, “This one reminds me of you.”
I blush at the sensation of the hum of his voice in my ear. Our bodies remain more closely connected for the rest of the time at the museum, savoring the moment.
Arriving back at my apartment, Joe insists on walking me all the way up to my door. He says it’s the gentlemanly thing to do on a date. I wouldn’t know if he’s telling the truth or not since this is technically my first date ever.
For some strange reason, right after we get to my door, I lean into him and kiss him on the cheek. I’ve never kissed him on the cheek let alone put my lips anywhere on his body like this.
“Thank you,” I comment.
Joe’s body is rigid and it takes him a moment to blink before asking, “For what?”
“For a great first date.”
“So, you really have never been on a date before?”
“No.”
“Well, maybe we can have many more firsts together,” he presses with a widening grin.
“Don’t push your luck,” I contend. “If they involve breaking any more of my rules, no way.”
“Which ones have we broken?” Joe takes a step closer.
Not sure if I want to answer, I hesitantly reply, “The fact that you know right where I live.” I pause not wanting to admit the other one.
“And . . .” he searches, staking another step.
“I don’t know if I want to tell you.”
If he knows I’ve already let him in more than other men, this could get really weird.
“I know,” he states with a twinkle in his eye.
“No, you don’t,” I challenge.
He moves in closer, our bodies are flush. “Tonight . . . our date,” he whispers.
My body instantly tenses at his words. Suddenly, before my brain registers anything, Joe’s lips press to mine with a silky, defined force. We don’t move as we both breathe in and out several times through our noses. Joe pulls away, and my mouth follows his, only to be met again with more intensity this time. Everything moves in slow motion as my hands instinctually sliding up each muscular ridge of his stomach and chest. His right hand drops down my side, pulling me further into him as our lips temporarily separate. Returning his mouth to mine, Joe groans into my slightly opened mouth as he gentle presses his tongue inward. For some strange reason, my tongue reaches for his. Aware of where this is going after the third contact with his tongue, I push my hands against his chest and shake my head. His mouth hovers as his forehead rests on mine.
“Just friends, Joe,” I barely sigh on an exhale.
He doesn’t argue or fight — he just stays touching me, holding me.
My body craves him — it needs him — it wants him. It’s demanding his body on mine. I see it and feel it when we’re together, but I can’t give in. I have rules, rules that protect me and keep me safe from being hurt.
He gently kisses me again, holding his lips to mine for as long as I let him. I finally convince my body to listen and my lips slowly peel away after about five seconds.
“Goodnight, beautiful.”
His words provoke my yearning for him.
“Goodnight, Joe.”
Sixteen
The past four days since my date with Joe have been normal, as normal can be for my life. Joe texts and calls on occasion, and even tries to get me to agree to another date. I obviously decline for many reasons. I’m finding too much temptation.
I took Joe’s suggestion about creating the Raven Media cloud base system software I built from he ground up into a sellable product for other companies that enable their staff the ease and flexibility my associates perform for clients. When I mention it to Maggie and Jared, they are ecstatic and excited at the potential. Two of my contractors with Raven are software developers who helped me build the initial software, so I’ve commissioned them to assist with the expansion and redesign. We’ll test the first software version in a couple of months and we’ve already named it Raven 1.0. If all goes well, I’ll be upgrading my server needs with my hosting company. I’m starting to consider the idea of purchasing my own servers in the future which would provide added security and profit for Raven Media.