Live Me Page 12
Or the salad . . .
Or the cupcake . . .
Everything smelled delicious and my stomach rumbled. My eyes went wide as I tore into the packages, shoveling French fries in my mouth while I unwrapped my sandwich and forked through my salad. “Thanks, I’m starving. I was on my way to get something when you sent me that text.”
His eyes twinkled as he stared at me with a huge smile.
I stopped chewing, cheeks full, fingers dripping with grease. “What?”
He stared a moment longer. “You’re cute when you’re hungry. You’re like a little lion. I like it.”
Crinkling my nose, I growled at him and we both laughed. I wiped my hands and started eating my salad one calm mouthful at a time.
“So how’d it go with your boyfriend yesterday?” Blake asked pointedly. “Did you tell him you have a new BFF?”
I coughed, almost choking on my food, then cleared my throat. “No.” I looked away.
“Tsk, tsk, Angel. I’m disappointed in you. Don’t you know all relationships are built on honesty and trust?” He raised his eyebrows, accentuating his dissatisfaction.
The chicken felt like cement scraping down my throat. Suddenly, I wasn’t so hungry. I did, however, have a good topic change. “Speaking of BFF . . . that was a nice little touch in my phone.”
He beamed a satisfied smile that seemed to take up most of his face. “You like how I did that, right? Ten more points?”
“Twenty.” I couldn’t help but smile.
I stabbed a forkful of salad and chomped down, searching for my napkin before runaway dressing could slide off my chin, when I heard the distinct click of a picture being taken. My head snapped up as Blake was lowering a very fancy looking camera. Straight faced, he examined the image he’d just captured of me.
“You could warn a person before you do that.” I glowered. “Do you regularly take pictures of people with lettuce hanging off their face?” I dropped my fork and wiped my lips.
Eyes still on the viewfinder, he murmured, “Don’t worry. You look perfect.” And then he ran his thumb over the screen and looked up at me with a half-smile. Our eyes lingered on each other a heartbeat longer than necessary. He raised his hands and, without looking at the screen or deviating from my stare, he clicked the camera in my direction once more.
I blinked rapidly, thrown out of my trance. “Stop it! What’s wrong with you?”
Blake looked down and examined the image, a satisfied grin on his face. “Got it. I’ve been waiting to get that look since I met you.”
“Look? What look?”
“This look.” He turned the camera in my direction, and I saw a girl with her eyes locked adoringly, staring in awe, features soft, cheeks flushed, lips full and parted.
Oh. That look.
“Now I’ll have it forever. Even if you run away from me.” He slowly lowered the camera and placed it protectively in the crook of his arm, tapping it twice.
“So what’re your plans for today?” I tried to lighten the mood.
“You’re looking at it.” He smiled, a toothy grin.
“Seriously? It doesn’t take all day to feed me. I’m not really malnourished.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I still have to show you the proper way to eat a cupcake. That could take some time.” His eyes shimmered with mischief, and my belly did a flip flop. I could only imagine what he considered proper. In fact, I was certain it would be anything but proper.
Needing to divert his attention, I gestured toward his capturer of torment. “So what’s with the camera?”
He raised the equipment, angling it toward me. “I told you, this is what I love. I’m always looking for beauty in unlikely places. Once in a lifetime seconds that would be lost forever.” He shrugged and the corner of his mouth tipped up fondly. “You’d be amazed at all the things you walk past every day and take for granted. But there’s beauty in everything. Even pain and sorrow, or a child’s disappointed face. Everywhere. Like right there.” He brought the camera up swiftly and snapped another shot. Smiling, he turned the viewfinder in my direction to show me.
My face looked strained, my lip strangled by my teeth. The light from the window created blurred streaks across my face and through my hair. It actually was beautiful somehow. He was right.
I grabbed the camera from his hands, disgusted that my face was so telling. “Give me that thing. It’s my turn.” I fumbled with the heavy apparatus. There were a bunch of dials and buttons and moving parts. I had a better shot of assembling a Rubik’s Cube than knowing what to do with it.
“Would you like a lesson? First one’s free.” Blake’s voice in my ear startled me, and I jumped, almost dropping his most prized possession. I glanced over my shoulder, nearly brushing his lips with my own. Swallowing, I brought my gaze back to the contraption in my hands. “Yeah, sure.”
The hairs lining my body stood at attention, the awareness of his body moving closer to mine undeniable. Prickles raced up my back as the space between us disappeared and he settled himself in the seat behind me. His fingers lightly grazed my throat and then slid across my neck to sweep my hair over my shoulder, exposing my vulnerable flesh and causing a deep shudder to erupt. I sucked in a sharp breath as he placed his chin on the spot where my neck met my shoulder. Bringing his arms around either side of me, he grasped the shaky camera firmly between his hands, trapping mine beneath his. They felt so strong but soft at the same time. I imagined they would glide over my skin like silk, while being powerful enough to protect me from anything that might harm me.
“This is a heavy duty piece of equipment,” his voice rasped in my ear. “You have to stroke it just right, and it’ll do exactly what you want. It can bring you lots of pleasure and happiness when the moment’s right.” His breathing was calm as every syllable excited each nerve ending that lined my oversensitive skin, causing my own breath to be jagged and erratic.
I hated him for that.
His thumbs never stopped caressing the tops of my hands as he raised the camera at the flower I had picked during my run through the park.
“Let’s keep it simple for now and leave this baby on automatic. I wouldn’t want to scare you away during your first lesson.” Blake took my index finger and placed it over the button on top of the camera, keeping his own above it. Twisting and turning the lens with one hand, he thoughtlessly traced circles over my finger with the other. I could feel each swirl between my legs and squeezed my thighs shut, trying to alleviate the ache building there. It was as if he was actually stroking my most delicate parts. I thought I’d be frightened, but I wasn’t.
I wanted more.
Hard biceps curled around me, leaving little room to move as his front pressed against my back, essentially trapping me in. But I didn’t feel threatened.
I felt protected.
He pushed his nose into my hair as though he was learning my body. No longer paying attention to anything he was doing or saying about the camera, my face instinctively turned toward his and I licked my lips, breathing in his manly scent. God, I want this man.
“You paying attention?” His words hurled me back to reality.
I hadn’t noticed he’d finished adjusting the lens. I quickly straightened my head. “Uh-huh.” I cleared my throat and made my best attempt to look like I was concentrating.
His chin dipped deeper into my shoulder, and I knew he was grinning at my expense. “Okay, now that we’re zoomed in exactly where we want it, all you have to do is push down lightly on the shutter release button. Don’t click all the way. It’ll start to focus itself.”
His finger gave a slight nudge, and the screen blurred in and out as it adjusted.
“Just make sure once you have it where you want it, you don’t let it go. You wouldn’t want to lose your shot.” His words seemed to take on a double meaning. “There you go. Perfect. Now . . . push.” He added more pressure to my finger and the photo snapped.
So did my insides.
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Squeezing my legs together, a gasp escaped my lips. My body ached with a need I’d never experienced before. His one swirling, pushing finger felt like it was probing the most sensitive parts of my anatomy.
“Let’s look at your handiwork.” He clicked a button, and the image appeared on the screen. “See how nice?”
It was nice. What I thought was just a plain, ordinary flower was now sitting there, shining beautifully among streaks of sunlight. It seemed to be angling toward it, drinking it in. Loving it. Needing it. Much like I must have looked gravitating toward Blake.
My head inclined toward him, drinking in his energy. I was beginning to need this man. Desperately. My head screamed at me to run away and never look back, but every fiber of my being wanted to melt into every fiber of his.
It was too much to handle and I couldn’t think straight with him so close. I needed space before I did something irrational. “It’s pretty,” I murmured. Then I slid off the stool and put some much needed distance between us.
Taking a moment to study me from across the room, Blake plucked the bud from its vase and rolled it between his long fingers. He smelled the petals. “To some people flowers symbolize death. But to me, they symbolize life.”
I stared at him. Where was he going with this?
“There are certain flowers you can plant and, even when the cold comes and they die, they aren’t gone. When the pain of winter is gone and the ground thaws the next spring, they come back.” He looked at me with a serious expression. “They get a new chance at life. No matter what happened to them in the past. They regrow and are even more beautiful than before. To me they’re a sign of hope. Hope for tomorrow. Hope for the future. Hope of new life and possibilities. Different circumstances. Second chances. Hope.” He stood and began to make his way toward me.
My feet were rooted to the ground.
He tucked a loose tendril behind my ear and placed a finger beneath my chin, slanting it back so I could look into his fiery sapphire eyes. “Love.” He swept one finger across my forehead, smoothing wayward hairs. “Living.” His thumb traced my lower lip, and my eyes closed at the warmth flooding my belly. He put his palm to the side of my face and searched my eyes for an answer and I instinctively leaned into his touch. Cradling my cheeks between his hands, he lowered his face so slowly, so gently, toward mine.
As if trying to commit every contour to memory, he used his nose to caress each of my features. It was the most sensual and erotic thing I’d ever felt. Traveling up past my cheekbone, he circled my temple and continued across my forehead. After circling the opposite temple, he came across the right cheekbone and up to each of my eyes. He placed a soft kiss to both and then moved down my nose, toward my jawline.
My lips parted in invitation, my body relaxing forward as I willingly released myself to him. My breathing labored when his lips grazed mine, but he didn’t linger there, barely even touching them. I wondered if I’d even felt them at all or if it was just my imagination running wild with desire. My body caved into his, the need for him growing fierce within me.
He skimmed his nose from the spot below my ear, along the length of my jaw, past my chin, to the other ear, and caught the lobe between his teeth, igniting prickles throughout my body. I hissed a guttural sigh, my body noticeably trembling. His touch evoked something animalistic inside of me, and it was banging on the walls of its cage, begging to be set free.
He sensually stroked his forehead along the area he’d just traced moments before, gently rolling his head back and forth, like he was trying to seep me into his brain and melt me into his being.
My chest rose and fell rapidly. I needed his lips on mine. I’d never wanted anything so badly in my life. I felt like he was making himself part of me, molding himself into a piece of my anatomy. When he made his way back toward the center of my face, I couldn’t take much more.
I tilted my head up toward him in a silent plea. He peered down at me through long lashes, his eyes hooded. Then his mouth descended toward mine, excruciatingly slow.
I closed my eyes in anticipation as I felt his being come within centimeters of my own. The seconds he lingered in that small space were pure agony and I wanted to grab the back of his head and crash my mouth to his.
He kissed the tip of my nose, and my eyes fluttered open. My heart sank to the pit of my stomach as I blew out the air trapped in my throat in wispy gasps. He rested his chin on the top of my head and wrapped me in an embrace. I knew he was thinking, trying to figure out where to go from here and what to do with me. If I were anyone else, I was sure he would have kissed me. He let out a deep exhale, rustling my hair and kissed the top of my head. Then he backed away.
With weak limbs, I stumbled back and grasped the counter to steady myself. I should have known he’d be too much of a gentleman to do anything without my explicit consent, but I couldn’t give it to him.
“I want you so bad, Angel. I’m not gonna lie. All you have to do is say the words, and I’ll do the rest. Just tell me you want me, too.” He searched my eyes for a response, his expression desperate, hopeful, and pleading all at once.
I remained close-mouthed, unable to form a thought. I wished it were that simple. I wished I could just tell him I wanted him too and let him take away my misery. But I knew it wasn’t possible. There was no future for us. I didn’t have a heart to share with anyone. It’d been destroyed years ago.
A brief look of disappointment flashed across his face as he realized I wasn’t going to cooperate. He gave me a weak, halfhearted smile, and took my hand. “Come. I have another surprise for you.”
Steering me toward the living room, he stopped momentarily to retrieve something from one of the bags, hiding it behind his back. He propped me on the couch and ordered me to stay, then walked over to my DVD player. Making quick work of the buttons, he came and sat close enough beside me that I could feel the heat from his leg radiating into my skin through my jeans. I still hadn’t recovered from our previous encounter, and I wasn’t sure if I could handle him in this close proximity yet. I rubbed the tops of my thighs to alleviate the scolding burn. He appeared unaffected and didn’t seem to notice my discomfort.
How did he recuperate so quickly?
Maybe you’ve misread him all along, and he doesn’t feel as strongly about you as you thought. I told you this was a bad idea.
Shut. Up.
“Oh wait, I almost forgot.” Blake jumped up from his spot, and I was thankful to feel my temperature begin to decline.
I heard pots and pans clanging and, a few moments later, kernels were popping. I strained my neck to see what was going on in my kitchen. A moment later, he reappeared holding a giant bowl of fluffy popcorn.
“Did you just make that fresh?”
“Yep. It’s the only way I’ll eat it. It’s so much better than that microwave crap. You ever have it this way?”
“Sure. My mom used to make it all the time when I was little.” That one sentence built a lump in my throat. It was hard to think about how things used to be, how innocent I used to be. Softly, I added, “I haven’t had it in forever, though.”
He held the warm bowl out to me. I popped a few pieces into my mouth and closed my eyes, savoring the flavor.
He grabbed the remote, pressed play, and snuggled into my side, dipping his hand into the bowl.
I stiffened at the initial contact.
He didn’t look at me, just muttered through his mouthful, “Lighten up. I don’t bite. Only on Tuesdays.” Then he smiled that lopsided grin and settled even deeper into my side.
Ah, what the hell. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.
I rested my head on his shoulder as the beginning of The Notebook emerged on my television. “Seriously?”
“What? Can’t a guy enjoy a good romance?”
“Actually . . . no.” I laughed.
Blake tipped his nose in the air. “Well, you don’t know me very well then. I happen to appreciate a good heart-throbbing tearjerker.”r />
“If you say so,” I teased playfully. Whether he was telling the truth or not, The Notebook was one of my favorite movies, and this was just what I needed. Or so I thought.
We weren’t very far in when I noticed the similarities between Blake and Noah. The way Noah tried to get Allie to go out with him with all of his cute, quirky ways. Never giving up and following her around, asking her to do things she wouldn’t ordinarily do. The realization made me squirm.
“Don’t you even think about it,” he grumbled. “The qualifications for watching a movie are . . . we snuggle. So saddle up, sweetheart.” There was no question in his demanding tone. Though I hesitated, something about the playful way he’d said it made me do exactly as he’d requested.
I melted further into him, and he let out a contented sigh, then wiggled a little closer into my side. He took my hand in his, brushing his thumb along every surface of it absentmindedly. His easygoing, sweet and thoughtful personality made it easy to feel comfortable with him. He was passionate about the things he cared about and was a genuinely good person. I mean, what guy wanted to watch sappy love stories? I’ll give you one hint—none.
Toward the end, I tried so hard to hold back the waterworks that my throat burned with unshed tears. Eventually, I succumbed and let them out. When the movie ended, I was embarrassed I’d let Blake see me bawling like a baby.
He passed me a tissue. Was there anything he hadn’t thought of?
Looking at me through glistening eyes, he wiped away the tears pooling under my lower lashes. That simple, compassionate act made my heart open up a little bit more to him. My heart felt heavy, swollen with emotions I didn’t want to feel flying through it.
Needing to freshen up, I began to move away from him, but he gripped my arm and pulled me back. My heart flew into my throat, panicked. Numbness shot out to each of my limbs, tingling my brain.
Oh please, God, no.
Very calmly, as though he didn’t notice the alarm raking through me, he drawled, “These movies are like sex. You can’t just jump up and leave me after. We have to spoon a little. I need a few minutes to come down from it.” Then he nudged his head into my shoulder while wrapping his arms around my waist. There was nothing malicious or insincere in his eyes. He was telling the truth. He wasn’t going to hurt me.