Page 5 of Present Tense
“Visiting my dad.” I shift and look away. Hoping to end the conversation.
“Oh. How is he?”
No such luck. “Fine. Let’s talk about that later. And as for in your arms, because somehow, and it’s shocking to me, I don’t want to be anywhere else right now.” I need to flip this script away from my dad.
“Why aren’t you with him tonight?”
I panic. He doesn’t want me in his arms. I’m a fool. He just wants to catch up. I’m so embarrassed. I pull my hands from him, and he looks confused. I lower my legs and scoot back. I need out of here. “We had lunch yesterday and dinner at the club three nights ago.” I try and move away from him. He keeps me in place.
“You’ve been here what, five days, and that’s it?” He raises an eyebrow and puts my legs back around his waist and my arms behind his head. I grin. Maybe he does want me.
“A week. But he can’t find room in his busy schedule of reading, puzzles, and watching TV for more time with me. No need to discuss further.” I clutch him tighter as I shake my hair loose from my neck and exhale.
His fingers glide over my collarbone again and he says, “Jilly. Why the freeze?” That’s what he used to call it when I got quiet. I guess it’s impossible to hide anything from someone who was at your eighth birthday party.
“No freeze. Understanding what’s what. That’s all.”
He steps back from me. “What do you think just happened?”
I’ve never been one to shy away from telling people things. Maybe my family, and possibly some horrible bosses in my past. But I’ve always been honest with Fletch.
“I told you I didn’t want to be anywhere else but in your arms, and you don’t feel the same way. And that’s completely fine.”
He yanks me closer and steals my breath. That little commanding move was sudden and has my insides becoming molten. He rocks his already steel-hard dick into me, and I’m aflame again. “It’s fine, is it? You feel what you’re doing to me?”
He closes his eyes. “Shit. I asked about your dad instead of telling you that’s one of the best things I’ve ever fucking heard.” I jump to instant conclusions and snap decisions to avoid anything personal or getting hurt. That won’t work so much in this situation.
My stomach gets tingly as he squeezes my thighs. I used to be the carefree, impulsive one, but the world changes you. Life and responsibilities took that Jillien away, but here, trapped in my adolescent time warp with him, I can be Jilly again. Well, Jilly with a deviant and sexy twist.
He gently brushes my lips, then slants his mouth over mine, and I lose my breath. The kiss evolves into a flurry of tongues tangling and chasing each other. It’s a hard and passionate kiss, as if we can’t do anything but be drawn to each other. I moan as we grope and pull at each other in a flurry. I retreat to catch my breath.
He backs up and puts his hands on his hips and stares at me. “Good God, you’re an amazing kisser. You belong in my arms.” I bite my bottom lip. “Maybe under me.” He raises his eyebrows. Fuck me. He’s sexy.
“I can’t with you. My fucking God. I’m baffled. How is Liam Fletcher this hot? Liam Fletcher’s tongue makes me want to do seriously nasty things.”
His grin is wolfish as he says, “I don’t know how to stop kissing you.”
I sigh. “That’s a lovely thought.”
He crushes his mouth to mine again. I arch my back so he can have all of me at this moment. I can’t stop offering myself to this man.
He mumbles while still kissing, “Seriously. What is happening?”
I speak while he moves to kiss my neck. “I don’t care. Just don’t stop.”
We are rough and raw. It’s pure lust. It’s intoxicating, and I want to have this old friend for dinner.
“Hey. Do you live with your mom?”
“Hell, no. She lives in a condo near Franklin Square,” he answers from above my bra line, his breath teasing me. I’m out of my head with desire. My nipples have perked up and want to join the party. It would be so easy to push my dress aside and find them hard and waiting for him.
“A whole fifteen minute walk away,” I say, teasing him and arching at his touch.
“It’s an important fifteen minutes.”
I smile at him, and he moves back between my legs. I happily rewrap myself around him. I ask, “When did you move into this house?”
He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “After my dad. Bev couldn’t be here. The ex-wife and I bought out Lisa. She claims to hate this old relic. She’s in a house in Jersey with two-year-old laminate floors. She and the real estate husband keep moving. They’re like low self-esteem men having a midlife crisis. When a house hits a certain age, it’s time for the younger model.” I laugh. It sounds precisely like the Lisa I knew. But I do hope she’s grown up a bit.
