Roots and Wings (City Limits #1)(28)

“I’m always careful and I have plenty of time.”

I stood up, and the space between us shrunk even further. Vaughn didn’t move, and in that moment I considered telling him my name and then grabbing his face and kissing him mad.

Then again, I had just told him I was fine with taking my time. That may have been a lie.

“Kimberly?” he asked quietly.

God, how I wished that was my name.

I shook my head, feeling my ponytail swing behind me. “Want me to tell you?”

He shook his head, then he squinted and some of his playfulness came back. “You know I don’t kiss women when I don’t know their name, but I didn’t explain myself. I just don’t kiss them on the mouth.”

I swallowed and my damn legs about failed me. I sat back down on the bar stool so I wouldn’t hit the dirt floor.

He stepped closer like he was going to catch me, but I only fell an inch or two back to the stool.

His hand came up to brace me, but when he realized I’d only sat, it gently touched my face. It was tender and maybe the first time anyone had ever touched me like that.

My eyes fluttered, feeling his hand on my skin, and my lips parted to let out the air that had warmed and expanded in my lungs.

Vaughn leaned in and, like before, his face was so close to mine that I could feel his breath lick across my flesh.

“I want to kiss your lips—so bad—but I want more than that is to know who you are. It’s important to me.” His fingers moved behind my neck as his nose ran along my ear. “So maybe I’ll just kiss you somewhere else.”

As I watched him lean in, not daring to stop him or even move, I fixated on his chest moving in and out before me. My eyes closed and my head rolled ever so slightly to the side, inviting him to place his lips wherever the hell he wanted. He moved closer still, until our legs were touching, and his other arm wrapped possessively around my waist.

I didn’t know what to do with my hands and I was having a hard time focusing, so they just hung limply at my sides. I was in a trance.

His lips moved against my neck as he spoke slowly, “Maybe I should kiss you here? On your sweet neck?”

He moved unhurriedly to my jaw, still not kissing really, but touching me nonetheless, and I thought I was going to combust. The sensation of him in my space, in my shed. The smell of his clean shirt. How his voice deepened and vibrated against my skin.

“Or your jaw here? But that’s so close to your pretty lips. It’s too tempting.”

I think I whimpered, or whined, or groaned. I can’t be sure. I’d never heard that sound come from me. I’m not sure my ears were even working correctly, because the things he was saying sounded like some sort of script from a movie. I didn’t know how to process any of it and I sure as hell didn’t know how to react.

He must have thought I was mentally deficient, and he wouldn’t have been too wrong at the moment.

Then his nearness left and my eyes blinked open to find him looking into me. Like all the way into me.

“I’ll figure out your name, O’Fallon. Then I’m going to kiss your pretty little face off. So be ready for it.” After he spoke, he pressed his lips against my forehead and lifted my chin so that our eyes met again.

His pupils were dilated, only a fraction of that watery blue visible.

“I’ll be here at six tomorrow. Good night,” he said, and then he quickly kissed the top of my head and left.

I was frozen to my seat.

Any words I may have tried to say wedged in my throat.

I’d never been an emotional person. I’d always prided myself on handling things with a level head.

Vaughn had, in a few short weeks, changed all that. I was feeling things, emotional things. Massive, unfamiliar things.

I sat out there by myself for a while longer and thought.

I wasn’t sure if he’d still be interested in me after he got to know me better. I knew I wasn’t likely going to change much, but maybe changing a little wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

For the first time, I wanted to impress a man. Not because I wanted his business, or simply to warm my bed, but I wanted a man to desire me, and even if I hated to admit it, I wanted to be treated like I was special. Like I was beautiful.

And, there in that garage, he’d done just that.

I felt, more than anything, that he desired me—all of me—and I craved more of it.





I could have just called. Really, all I wanted to know was what she wanted for dinner.

Who was I kidding?

I wanted to see her. After only knowing her for a few short weeks, I missed her.

I was with Rachelle for almost two years and I didn’t miss her, at least not like I did O’Fallon, and she was just down the street.

But you know what?

Life is short.

Did I feel strange starting a relationship so soon after Rachelle, moving, and everything that happened? Yes.

But, on the other hand, I didn’t.

I wanted O’Fallon.

I wanted to touch her.

I wanted her to touch me.

I wanted to kiss her and tell her how beautiful I thought she was, and that the time we spent together was never enough.

Something told me she was just as surprised by it as I was. From what she’d told me, she had never been in a relationship. At least not like the one I wanted with her.