Lick: Stage Dive 1 Page 9
The pad of my thumb rubbed over my bottom lip, back and forth, back and forth. I’d gone for a long walk up the beach earlier, watching the waves crash on the shore and reliving that kiss. Over and over again, I’d played it inside my mind. The same went for our conversations. In fact, I’d picked apart every moment of our time together, explored every nuance. Every moment I could remember, anyway, and I’d tried damn hard to remember all of it.
“A delivery?” He crouched down beside the closest package and started tearing at the wrapping. I averted my eyes before I caught a glimpse up his towel, despite being wildly curious.
“Would you mind if I used your phone?” I asked.
“Ev, you don’t need to ask. Help yourself to whatever.”
“Thanks.” Lauren and my folks were probably freaking out, wondering what was going on. It was time to brave up to the butt-picture repercussions. I groaned on the inside.
“This one’s for you.” He handed me a thick brown-paper parcel done up with string, followed by a shopping bag with some brand I’d never heard of printed on the side. “Ah, this one too by the look.”
“It is?”
“Yeah. I asked Martha to order some stuff for us.”
“Oh.”
“Oh? No.” David shook his head. Then he kneeled down in front of me and tore into the brown package in my hands. “No ‘oh’. We need clothes. It’s really simple.”
“That’s very kind of you, David, but I’m fine.”
He wasn’t listening. Instead he held up a red dress the same thigh-baring length as those girls at the mansion had worn. “What the fuck? You’re not wearing this.” The designer dress went flying and he ripped into the shopping bag at my feet.
“David, you can’t just throw it on the ground.”
“Sure I can. Here, this is a little better.”
A black tank top fell into my lap. At least this one looked the right size. The thigh-high red dress had been a size-four joke. Quite possibly a mean one, given Martha’s dislike of me back in LA. No matter.
A tag dangled from the tank. The price. Shit. They couldn’t be serious.
“Whoa. I could pay my rent for weeks with this top.”
In lieu of a response he threw a pair of skinny black jeans at me. “Here, they’re okay too.”
I put the jeans aside. “It’s a plain cotton tank top. How can this possibly cost two hundred dollars?”
“What do you think of this?” A length of silky green fabric dangled from his hand. “Nice, huh?”
“Do they sew the seams with gold thread? Is that it?”
“What are you talking about?” He held up the blue dress, turning it this way and that. “Hell no, it’s backless. The top of your ass will probably show in that.” It joined the red dress on the floor. My hands itched to rescue them, fold them away nicely. But David just ripped into the next box. “What were you saying?”
“I’m talking about the price of this top.”
“Shit, no. We’re not talking about the price of that top because we’re not talking about money. It’s an issue for you and I’m not going there.” A micro-mini denim skirt came next. “What the fuck was Martha thinking ordering you this sort of stuff?”
“Well, to be fair, you do normally have girls in bikinis hanging off you. In comparison, the backless dress is quite sedate.”
“You’re different. You’re my friend, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” I didn’t entirely believe the tone of my own voice.
His forehead wrinkled up with disdain. “Damn it. Look at the length of this. I can’t even tell if it’s meant to be a skirt or a fucking belt.”
Laughter burst out of me and he gave me a hurt look, big blue puppy-dog eyes of extreme sadness and displeasure. Clearly, I had hurt his heart.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “But you sound like my father.”
He shoved the micro-mini back into its bag. At least it wasn’t on the floor. “Yeah? Your dad and I should meet. I think we’d get along great.”
“You want to meet my father?”
“Depends, would he shoot me on sight?”
“No.” Probably not.
He just gave me a curious look and burrowed into the next box. “That’s better. Here.”
He passed me a couple of sedate T-shirts, one black and one blue.
“I don’t think you should be selecting nun’s clothing for me, friend,” I said, bemused at his behavior. “It’s vaguely hypocritical.”
“They’re not nun’s clothes. They just cover the essentials. Is that too much to ask?” The next bulging bag was passed to me in its entirety. “Here.”
“You do admit it’s just a tiny bit hypocritical, though, right?”
“Admit nothing. Adrian taught me that a long time ago. Look in the bag.”
I did so and he burst out laughing, whatever expression I wore being apparently hilarious.
“What is this?” I asked, feeling all wide-eyed with wonder. It might have been a thong if the makers had seen fit to invest just a little more material into it.
“I’m dressing you like a nun.”
“La Perla.” I read the tag then turned it over to check out the price.
“Shit. Will you not look at the price, please? Ev.” David dived at me and I lay back, trying to make out the figures on the crazily swaying tag that was bigger than the scrap of lace. His larger hand closed over mine, engulfing the thong. “Don’t. For fuck’s sake.”
The back of my head hit the edge of a step and I winced, my eyes filling with tears. “Ow.”
“You alright?” His body stretched out above mine. A hand rubbed carefully at the back of my skull.
“Um, yeah.” The scent of his soap and shampoo was pure heaven, Lord help me. But there was something more than that. His cologne. It wasn’t heavy. Just a light scent of spice. There was something really familiar about it.
The tag hanging down in front of my face momentarily distracted me however. “Three hundred dollars?”
“It’s worth it.”
“Holy shit. No, it’s not.”
He hung the thong from the tip of a finger, a crazy cool smile on his face. “Trust me. I’d have paid ten times that amount for this. No questions asked.”
“David, I could get the exact same thing for less than a tenth of that price in a normal store. That’s insane.”
“No you couldn’t.” He balanced his weight on an elbow set on the step beside my head and started reading from the tag. “See, this exquisite lace is handmade by local artists in a small region of Northern Italy famous for just such craftsmanship. It’s made from only the finest of silks. You can’t get that at Walmart, baby.”
“No, I guess not.”
He made a pleased humming sound and looked at me with eyes soft and hazy. Then his smile faded. He pulled back and scrunched the thong up in his hand. “Anyway.”
“Wait.” My fingers curled around his biceps, keeping him in place.
“What’s up?” he asked, his voice tightening.
“Just, let me …” I lifted my face to his neck. The scent was strongest there. I breathed him deep, letting myself get high off the scent of him. I shut my eyes and remembered.
“Evelyn?” The muscles in his arms flexed and hardened. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
“We were in the gondolas at The Venetian. You said you couldn’t swim, that I’d have to save you if we capsized.”
His Adam’s apple jumped. “Yeah.”
“I was terrified for you.”
“I know. You hung onto me so tight I could barely breathe.”
I drew back so I could see his face.
“Why do you think we stayed on them for so long?” he asked. “You were practically sitting in my lap.”
“Can you swim?”
He laughed quietly. “Of course I can swim. I don’t even think the water was that deep.”
“It was all a ruse. You’re tricky, David Ferris.”
“And you’re f
unny, Evelyn Thomas.” His face relaxed, his eyes softening again. “You remembered something.”
“Yes.”
“That’s great. Anything else?”
I gave him a sad smile. “No, sorry.”
He looked away, disappointed, I think, but trying not to let it show.
“David?”
“Mm?”
I leaned forward to press my lips to his, wanting to kiss him, needing to. He pulled back again. My hopes dived. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Ev. What are you doing?”
“Kissing you?”
He said nothing. Jaw rigid, he looked away.
“You’re allowed to kiss me and cuddle me and buy me insanely priced lingerie and I can’t kiss you back?” My hands slid down to his and he held them. At least he wasn’t rejecting me totally.
“Why do you wanna kiss me?” he asked, his voice stern.
I studied our entwined fingers for a moment, getting my thoughts in order. “David, I’m probably not ever going to remember everything about that night in Vegas. But I thought we could maybe make some new good memories this weekend. Something we can both share.”
“Just this weekend?”
My heart filled my throat. “No. I don’t know. It just … it feels like there’s meant to be more between us.”
“More than friends?” He watched me, eyes intent.
“Yes. I like you. You’re kind and sweet and beautiful and you’re easy to talk to. When we’re not always arguing about Vegas. I feel like …”
“What?”
“Like this weekend is a second chance. I don’t want to just let it slip by. I think I’d regret that for a long time.”
He nodded, cocked his head. “So what was your plan? Just kiss me, and see what happened?”
“My plan?”
“I know about you and your plans. You told me all about how anal you are.”
“I told you that?” I was an idiot.
“Yeah. You did. You especially told me about the big plan.” He stared down at me, eyes intense. “You know … finish school then spend three to five years establishing yourself at mid-range firm before moving up the ranks somewhere more prestigious and starting your own small consultancy business by thirty-five. Then there’d maybe time to get a relationship and those pesky 2.4 kids out of the way.”
My throat was suddenly a dry, barren place. “I was really chatty that night.”
“Mm. But what was interesting was the way you didn’t talk about that plan like it was a good thing. You talked about it like it was a cage and you were rattling the bars.”
I had nothing.
“So, come on,” he said softly, taunting me. “What’s the plan here, Ev? How were you going to convince me?”
“Oh. Well, I was um … I was going to seduce you, I guess. And see what happened. Yeah …”
“How? By complaining about me buying you stuff?”
“No. That was just an added bonus. You’re welcome.”
He licked his lips, but I saw the smile. “Right. Come on then, show me your moves.”
“My moves?”
“Your seduction techniques. Come on, time’s a-wasting.” I hesitated and he clicked his tongue, impatient. “I’m only wearing a towel, baby. How hard can this be?”
“Fine, fine,” I held his fingers tight, refusing to let go. “So, David?”
“Yes, Evelyn?”
“I was thinking …”
“Hmm?”
I was so hopelessly outclassed with him. I gave him the only thing I could think of. The only thing that I knew had a track record of working. “I think you’re a really nice guy and I was wondering if you’d maybe like to come up to my room and have sex with me and maybe hang out for a while. If that’s maybe something you’d be interested in doing …”
His eyes darkened, accusing and unhappy. He started to pull back again. “Now you’re just being funny.”
“No.” I slipped my hand around the back of his neck, beneath his damp hair, trying to bring him back to me. “No, I’m very, very serious.”
Jaw tensed, he stared at me.
“You asked me this morning in the car if I thought you were scary. The answer is yes. You scare me shitless. I don’t know what I’m doing here. But I hate the thought of leaving you.”
His gaze searched my face but still he said nothing. He was going to turn me down. I knew it. I’d asked for too much, pushed him too far. He’d walk away from me, and who could blame him after everything?
“It’s okay,” I said, gathering what remained of my pride up off the floor.
“Ah, man,” he sighed. “You’re kinda terrifying too.”
“I am?”
“Yeah, you are. And wipe that smile off your face.”
“Sorry.”
He angled his head and kissed me, his lips firm and so good. My eyes closed and my mouth opened. The taste of him took me over. The mint of his toothpaste and the slide of his tongue against mine. All of it was past perfect. He lay me back against the stairs. The new bruise at the back of my head throbbed in protest when I bumped it yet again. I flinched but didn’t stop. David cupped the back of my skull, guarding against further injury.
The weight of his body held me in place, not that I was trying to escape. The edge of the steps pressed into my back and I couldn’t care less. I’d have happily lain there for hours with him above me, the warm scent of his skin making me high. His hips held my legs wide open. If not for my jeans and his towel things would get interesting fast. God, I hated cotton just then.
We didn’t once break the kiss. My legs wrapped around his waist and my hands curved around his shoulders. Nothing had ever felt this good. My ache for him increased and caught fire, spreading right through me. My legs tightened around him, muscles burning. I couldn’t get close enough. Talk about frustrating. His mouth moved over my jaw and down my neck, lighting me up from inside. He bit and licked, finding sensitive spots below my ear and in the crook of my neck. Places I hadn’t known I had. The man had magic. He knew things I didn’t. Where he’d learned his tricks didn’t matter. Not right then.
“Up,” he said in a rough voice. Slowly he stood, one hand beneath my ass and the other still protecting my skull.
“David.” I scrambled to tighten my hold on his back.
“Hey.” He drew back just enough to look into my eyes. His pupils were huge, almost swallowing the sky-blue iris whole. “I am not going to drop you. That’s never going to happen.”
I took a deep breath. “Okay.”
“You trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” His hand slid down my back. “Now put your arms around my neck.”
I did, and my balance immediately felt better. Both of David’s hands gripped my butt and I locked my feet behind his back, holding on tight. His face showed no sign of pain or imminent back breakage. Maybe he was strong enough to carry me around after all.
“That’s it.” He smiled and kissed my chin. “All good?”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
“Bed?”
“YES.”
He chuckled in a way that did bad things to me. “Kiss me,” he said.
Without hesitation I did so, fitting my mouth to his. Sliding my tongue between his lips and getting lost in him all over again. He groaned, his hands holding me hard against him.
Which was when the doorbell rang, making a low, mournful sound that echoed in my heart and groin. “Nooo.”
“You’re fucking joking.” David’s face screwed up and he gave the tall double doors the foulest of looks. At least I wasn’t alone. I groaned and gave him a tight full-body hug. It would have been funny if it didn’t hurt so much.
A hand rubbed at my back, sliding beneath the hem of my tank to stroke the skin beneath. “It’s like the universe doesn’t want me inside you or something, I swear,” he grumbled.
“Make them go away. Please.”
He chuckled, clutching me tighter.
He groaned and kissed my neck. “Let me answer the door and get rid of them, then I’ll take care of you, okay?”
“Your towel is on the floor.”
“That’s a problem. Down you hop.”
I reluctantly loosened my hold and put my feet back on firm ground. Again the gong-like sound filled the house. David grabbed a pair of black jeans out of a bag and quickly pulled them on. All I caught was a flash of toned ass. Keeping my eyes mostly averted might have been the hardest thing I’d ever done.
“Hang back just in case it’s press.” He looked into a small screen embedded beside the door. “Ah, man.”
“Trouble?”
“No. Worse. Old friends with food.” He gave me a brief glance. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll be hurting too.”
“But—”
“Anticipation makes it sweeter. I promise,” he said, then threw open the door. A hand tugged down the front of his T-shirt, trying to cover the obvious bulge beneath his jeans. “Tyler. Pam. Hey, good to see you.”
I was going to kill him. Slowly. Strangle him with the overpriced thong. A fitting death for a rock star.
A couple about my parents’ age came in, laden down with pots and bottles of wine. The man, Tyler, was tall, thin, and covered in tats. Pam looked to have Native American in her heritage. Beautiful long black hair hung down her back in a braid, thick as my wrist. They both wore wide grins and gave me curious glances. I could feel my face heat when they took in the lingerie and clothing strewn about on the floor. It probably looked like we’d been about to embark on a two-person orgy. Which was the truth, but still.
“How the hell are ya?” Tyler roared in an Australian accent, giving David a one-armed hug on account of the crock-pot he held in the other. “And this must be Ev. I have to read about it in the damn paper, Dave? Are you serious?” He gave my husband a stern look, one brow arched high. “Pam was pissed.”
“Sorry. It was—ah, it was sudden.” David kissed Pam on the cheek and took a casserole dish and laden bag from her. She patted him on the head in a motherly fashion.