Ten minutes into the first episode, and I hear, “Oh my God.”
I look over and Ever has her hand over her eyes and is peeking between her fingers at the TV. She looks at me and says, “How do you watch this stuff? I’m terrified.”
I pat the couch beside me. “Want to come cuddle and I’ll protect you? The zombies may bite but I don’t.”
I’m half joking, half not. There’s a part of me that wants her soft body pressed up next to me, and there’s a part of me that hopes she takes the joke part and shoots me down with a sarcastic comment. That’s the part that knows I’m playing with fire here, because my baser instincts are starting to take over. I want Ever, but it would be the worst possible move for me to make.
She looks at me, glances back at the TV—which has a particularly gruesome scene going on—then back to me. Then she stands from the couch, and for a split second, I think she’d going to leave. Instead, she crawls up beside me. I lift my arm and she scoots in closer, pulling her feet up and tucking them under her hip. My arm casually settles in over her shoulders.
The smell of her shampoo immediately assaults me. It’s that same strawberry-vanilla scent I had noticed before, and for some reason, the thought of strawberries has me thinking about her lips again.
This is such a bad idea.
I turn my attention back to the TV and try to pay attention. But I can’t. Ever’s body is warm against mine and her sweet smell is driving me crazy. Without thinking about it, I pick up a lock of her hair with the hand that’s resting over her shoulder and rub it. It’s so soft...just like her skin.
I glance down at her and she’s not looking at the TV. She’s staring down at her lap, her eyes half closed. For a minute, I think she’s falling asleep but then she says softly, “This isn’t going to work.”
Releasing her hair, I ask, “What’s not going to work?” My voice comes out raspy and I think it’s because my throat is so dry.
“Sitting so close together.”
I cautiously remove my arm from around her shoulders. She looks up to me and f**k me silly, I see desire in her eyes. I am so unprepared for that look to be coming from her, I have no words.
I’m practically struck stupid when she says, “I want to kiss you, Linc.”
Holy f**k a duck! I practically groan over her words. I’ve been fantasizing about kissing her all afternoon and evening, but in a million years I never thought she would want to kiss me back.
Then a thought strikes me. What if she’s setting me up? What if she says she wants to kiss me, to induce me to make a move on her? So that she can write that Linc Caldwell is the man-whore she claims me to be.
No way am I making a f**king move right now. I wait with my breath held to see what she’ll do. She stares at me for a few moments, those cornflower eyes unblinking. I still see desire there and a small kernel of hope flares inside of me that she truly does want me.
Then she raises up on her knees and my gut tightens. She lays her hands on my chest and leans toward me. Her eyes leave mine and travel down to my lips, and it takes all of my willpower not to crush her to me. As her lips near mine, I close my eyes in anticipation of what she’ll do.
At first, all I get is a whisper soft touch, and I’m not sure if it’s her breath or her lips that make contact with mine. She brings one hand to my face, and just rests it gently there. Her thumb smoothes along my cheekbone.
She places her mouth over my bottom lip and lightly kisses it. She moves to the corner of my mouth, and kisses there as well. All so light and soft, I can barely feel them. She lets out a soft sigh of pleasure and my dick throbs in response. She’s hardly kissed me but my body is reacting viciously to her.
I wait for another kiss but it doesn’t come. Instead, I feel her swing a leg over my lap and she’s straddling me. My eyes fly open to stare into her impossibly big and impossibly blue ones. She brings her other hand to my face and is cradling it gently, but the look in her eyes is anything but soft. The level of desire I saw before pales in comparison to what I see now. She looks like she wants to eat me up, and the monster in my pants hardens even more.
“I’m going to really kiss you now,” she says and I cannot stop the groan that comes out of my throat. My hands clench and unclench at my side. I make no move to touch her because I still want to see what she will do, but it’s killing me not to grab and kiss her hard.
She finally lowers her lips to mine and presses in. She uses the force of her lips to push mine open and that sweet tongue slides in. Mine is there to meet hers, touching lightly, tentatively. She makes a soft exploration of my mouth. Her lips feel like satin against mine.
When she takes her arms and wraps them around my head, pushing our lips harder against each other and her tongue in deeper, I can’t hold back anymore. I need to touch her. I allow my hands to come up and grab onto her hips. Nothing more at this time, as I’m still afraid as to where this may go and what it will mean for our relationship going forward.
Instead, I allow myself the pleasure of getting lost in this kiss. And it’s a kiss like none I’ve ever had. I don’t allow myself to think forward to what may be, but concentrate on what is now. I let myself experience the sensations surrounding me. Her sweet smell, the softness of her lips, the way her teeth just nipped at my lower lip, the surge of lust that is zinging through my body.
And then she lowers herself onto my crotch and rubs herself against me. My h*ps involuntarily tilt up to meet her softness and both of us softly moan at the touch. I am seconds away from ripping her clothes off and I cannot let that happen. I am not going to prove her right. I am going to show her that I am so much more than a guy who is only interested in screwing women.