Quake (4 page)

      Once the door is open and we’ve both stepped inside, it takes almost every bit of restraint I have to keep from shoving her against the wall, so I can get my lips on hers. My hands clench and my teeth grind together while I fight against the fierce need to taste her mouth.

     “Take a seat,” she says as she places her purse on a small entryway table. “Do you want a drink? There’s beer and water.”

     “Water would be great, thanks,” my voice is tight when I answer, still thinking about our first kiss which will soon be a reality.

      I glance around her space as I move toward her couch. The walls are painted a light beige and she’s hung brightly colored works of art throughout. The paintings infuse the space with a warm and happy feeling or maybe it’s just from being in her company. Red curtains flank her patio door plus all of her windows and there are matching pillows on her sofa. I walk over to the sliding glass door and check to make sure the lock is secure.

      I sink down into the softness of her brown leather couch when she walks into the room. Our fingers touch when she hands me the ice water, the cubes clink against the glass and I nearly fumble my hold. I raise it to my lips and drink a large gulp of the chilly water, a soothing relief against my suddenly dry mouth. I’m acting like a nervous virgin, not the experienced man I am.

     Being this close to her and knowing she’ll soon be in my arms, is doing funny things to me—things that never happen to me. I don’t get a strange feeling in my stomach when I’m around women. I never worry whether a woman will enjoy kissing me, I know they will. Yet I find myself obsessing over what kind of kiss I should give her. Should it be soft and gentle, the merest brush of our lips? Should it start out innocent and progress as passion takes over?

     I place my glass down on the end table and glance at Janny sitting beside me. Our thighs are separated by only an inch or two, but it might as well be a mile with how unsure I’m feeling. This tiny slip of a woman is killing what little game remains from my wild and crazy days. I’ve reverted back to a fumbling teenager waiting for the right moment to make a move.

      She angles her upper body toward mine. “Kiss me,” she blurts out, making my heart thunder in my chest.

      I turn to face her, trailing the back of my fingers down her pink flushed cheek, all the way to the slight point of her chin. My thumb slides up to caress her lower lip and delicately map out its curve before moving on to trace over the bow of her upper one. I could spend hours memorizing the shape of her mouth and never tire of it. My eyes raise searching her beautiful blue ones for any sign of doubt or hesitation on her part. I recognize the emotion I see reflected there and it’s the same thing I’m feeling.

     
Desire.

      
Knowing she’s patiently waiting for my kiss is a powerful aphrodisiac. I want to throw her down on the couch and own her body in every imaginable way, drowning her in a sea of ecstasy until she’s begging me to stop. If this was anyone besides Janny I wouldn’t hesitate or worry about the consequences—but it’s not any other girl. This is what I’ve been waiting for and this has to be the best first kiss of her life. Every other first kiss I’ve given has been building toward this moment.

      My head lowers, her eyes drift shut, and I lightly brush my lips against hers. I pull back to gauge her reaction, finding a slight smile on her face and now that I know she likes where this is going all fucking bets are off. I’ve just lost the last fucking thread of resistance holding me back and I take her lips. My arms wrap around her slight frame, pulling her into me. I’m almost dizzy with anticipation as our tongues come together for the first time.

      Desire, more powerful than I’ve ever felt grips me, moving straight to my cock. I expected her to be tentative or hesitant, not the little temptress who’s gripping my hair and pressing her breasts against my chest. As we continue to kiss, she lets out a soft moan when my hands caress down over her hips, trailing lower until I’m cupping her heart shaped ass in both of my large palms. I slide my hands all over the generous curves. My painful erection is almost more than I can take. I grip her hips with my fingers, lifting her to straddle my lap and our mouths never break apart.

      The first press of her heat against my cock has me on the verge of coming like an inexperienced schoolboy. I can’t control the guttural groan that escapes when my lips leave hers, trailing across her cheek and ending below her ear. I suck on the bottom of her earlobe, before gently biting on it with my teeth. She gasps, dropping her head back and I can’t resist such temptation. My lips trail down the side of her neck and then climb back up, stopping to bite and suck along the way. I nuzzle my nose behind her ear and her alluring scent assaults me. She smells sweet, like the most enticing chocolate cupcakes and she tastes better than I imagined.

      Her pelvis grinds down into mine and I roll my hips up to meet hers. I know if I don’t put a stop to this now, it’s going to end with me buried eight inches deep inside her. Although there’s nothing I want more, she deserves better from me. It takes every ounce of inner strength I can rally to stop devouring her neck and hold her still on my lap. I rest my forehead against hers as my hands travel up and down her back.

      “Janny, we have to stop, before this goes any further.” My breaths are labored when I speak, “I don’t want to rush things with us.” My palms reverently cup both of her cheeks, holding her still in front of me. My eyes journey over the bewitching plains of her face until they lock with hers. “I want to keep seeing you. Can I take you out again sometime soon?”

      She shyly smiles at me, her cheeks flushed with passion when she whispers, “I’d love that.”

Janny

     
My date with Kyle on Friday night went better than I’d hoped. Now, here I am, three days later, sitting in the library, still replaying each moment in my mind instead of focusing on the essay I’m writing. It surprised me how attentive he was. I loved holding his hand as we walked along the North End sidewalks. My hand felt so tiny in his, yet his hold on me was gentle. He’s so much taller than me, it felt like I had my own personal bodyguard with me. I noticed the stares from other people, I don’t think anyone would dare try to harm me when I’m with him. He seems like he knows how to take care of himself and I know being a cop, and now a private investigator, he’s been trained in hand to hand combat. I’m sure there’ve been times when he’s been in unexpected altercations due to his job.

      I’ve always been attracted to the type of guy who makes me feel protected. I typically don’t date the artistic types, like Josh. Speaking of Josh, I’m glad things seem to be back to normal with us. It took a handful of days before he texted me and now I’ve made it clear we’ll never again be more than friends. We were friends before we were lovers and I never want to lose him. He and Elle are the most important people in my life and I’d be lost without either one of them.

       “Hey, Jam.” Elle sneaks up behind me and scares me half to death.

       I take a deep breath, my hand on my now pounding heart. “Jesus Elle, give me some warning next time. You just scared years off my life.”

      She laughs at me before she takes the seat at the end of the table. She drops her bright pink messenger bag on the table without a thought for the brand new laptop inside and leans forward, resting on her elbows. “What’s new with you, Jam? We keep missing each other. Whenever I’m home, you’re not. Are you trying to tell me something?” Elle has called me Jam, short for Janice Alicia Moore, since the first day we met. My parents named me after my great grandmother, but I was always Janny to them.

      “No, it’s because you’ve been busy spending time at our hunky neighbor’s apartment.”

      “True. All weekend he fucked my brains out so hard; you’re lucky I remember who you are.”                                                            I giggle, loving her outrageous answer.

      “By the way, how did your date go the other night?”

      I rest both of my arms on the table and lean closer toward Elle. “I had an amazing time with Kyle. He’s different than I thought he’d be.” I pause for a moment and chew on my bottom lip.

      “How so?” Elle interrupts, impatient as ever.

      “He behaved like a perfect gentleman at dinner and dessert. I let him drive me home and even invited him in.”

      Elle’s eyebrows rise with each word I say. She knows I never let guys bring me home on a first date.

      “I didn’t think he’d ever kiss me and by the time he did I thought I might explode. I can’t remember ever longing for a first kiss like I did with him.” I tuck my hair behind my ear and lower my eyes as I think about our hot kiss. The way he maneuvered me into his lap and the dry humping we did had me ready to come. When I look back up at Elle she’s fanning herself with her hand.

      “Jesus, I’m getting hot just watching you think about kissing him.” I snort at her before I continue, “It was the best kiss of my life. If kissing him is that hot, I can’t wait to know what sex is like with him.”

      Elle gasps, covering her mouth, her brown eyes comically large above her hand. She slowly lowers her arm, resting her hand on the table. “Who are you and where is my prudish best friend?” I whack her in the arm.

      “Shut up, I’m not a prude. There’s a difference between being a prude and being choosy. Just because I’ve only slept with two other guys doesn’t mean I don’t like sex or think about it.”

      “Wow, you must really like this guy if you’re thinking about sleeping with him already.” I laugh. “Will he be meeting the family soon?” She teases.

      I look down at my paper and avoid her eyes because I would like that, but there’s only my brother, Bryan, and he and I aren’t close. I can’t really remember what he was like before my parents died. He’d already moved away to college by the time I attended junior high and when he’d come home we hardly spoke. Now I feel like we’ve never really gotten to know the adult versions of each other. God knows I’ve tried, but you can’t hold a conversation with a living wall. I’m much closer with his wife, Sharon, and I think she would really like Kyle.

      “I think we can hold off on meeting the family for now and when he and I do sleep together, there will be nothing ugly about it. It’s going to be hot as hell.”

      I have some reservations about dating him. I’m worried once he’s done with me I may never be the same. What does a guy like him want with a girl like me? 

      “He’s a lot older and more experienced than I am, but I really like him. I’m just worried I won’t be exciting enough for him. I shouldn’t be thinking about this anyway, we just met. I’m only going on my second date with him in two more days.” When he called me yesterday and we set up a date for this coming Wednesday night, I was pleasantly surprised.

      I don’t want to be one of those girls who makes more out of a situation than it is. We’ve seen each other a few times and only one of those times was planned. I think it’s a little too soon to start thinking about the future. I know it’s not like I’m picking out china patterns or naming our kids, but in this situation I think taking things one day at a time might be best thing to do. There’s so much I don’t know about Kyle, he’s a wild card and I don’t know where he and I will end up.

      “Just go slow, Jam. Don’t let him rush you into anything you’re not ready for.” She pushes back her chair and stands, putting her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll see you later, I’m meeting our hunky neighbor now and you should stop worrying. Everything will be fine.” She blows me a kiss and I wave before she turns to walk away.

      I’m so lost in my thoughts of Kyle and our date the other night that I’m not getting much studying done. I’m in my last semester of college, but I’m not home free yet. I want to finish strong and honor my parents’ memory. I want them to be proud of me, but I know they would be, no matter what I chose to do with my life. There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t miss them and wish for one more hour with them.

      Thinking about the two of them always stirs up memories of David, my high school boyfriend and first love, who also perished in the fire. It was mid-July, the summer before our freshman year of college at Boston University and we’d been together for two years. We had so many plans for our future together. I know most high school sweethearts don’t last, but I think we would’ve been fine. We were each other’s first for all things and we were also best friends.

     
God, I loved that boy.

     
Most days I still think of him in some small way and since his death I’ve never opened myself up to the possibility of falling in love again. Losing David devastated me, I never want to go through anything as painful again. I barely survived it and if it hadn’t been for the distraction of college and meeting Elle, I wouldn’t have.

   ***

         “How’s your week been so far?” Kyle asks, his large feet keeping time with my smaller ones, while we stroll along. He picked me up for our date right on time and we decided to walk to a popular local restaurant, only a couple of blocks from my apartment. The weather has been unseasonably mild for March, but the air still has the perfect amount of chill to it. The weight of Kyle’s arm around my shoulders is keeping me comfortably warm and I love the way it feels to be pressed against his side.

      “Not bad. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again.” I tip my head back and look up at him waiting to see him react to what I said. The honesty of my answer surprises me. This is not something I would normally say on a second date. I usually keep how I’m really feeling to myself. It’s all part of my need to keep guys at arm’s length. Something about Kyle makes me want to open up to him.

      “I couldn’t wait to see you tonight,” he says, smiling down at me as he playfully runs the tip of his index finger down the length of my nose.

      I take in his short dark hair and the dark stubble he has. He shaved since the last time I saw him, revealing his chiseled jaw, but he’s still as undeniably attractive as I remembered. David is the last guy I felt this way about. I don’t really like to compare back then with now. David and I were just kids and now, I’m a grown woman capable of taking care of myself.

      After dinner, we walked to a bar about a block further away from my apartment. It’s a small hole in the wall Elle, Josh and I frequent from time to time so I know Sam, the bartender on duty.

      “Hey beautiful, where have you been hiding yourself? It’s been way too long since I’ve seen you.” His greeting is loud and boisterous, like his personality and his size. There’s nothing quiet about Sam and I can’t stop my face from breaking into a huge smile. He leans over the bar to kiss my cheek and Kyle’s grip on my arm tightens.

      I wonder if he’s the jealous type. I’m not a flirtatious girl in general so it shouldn’t be a problem, but I don’t want some control freak who gets pissed every time I speak to another guy. 

      “Hey, Sam. I’ve been busy with school. I’ve got to keep the grades up. I want you to meet my friend, Kyle. Kyle this is Sam my favorite bartender.”

      They briefly shake hands before we sit down on the bar stools.

      “What do you want to drink?” Kyle asks while he helps me remove my jacket. He places it on the vacant seat next to him before adding his own.
      “I’d love a mojito.”

      His hand softly caresses up and down the length of my back. “I’ll take a bottle of Heineken.” He nods toward Sam.

      I watch Sam grab the rum for my mojito while I work on summoning the courage to ask him some of the questions I’m dying to know the answers to.

     
Here goes nothing.

      “You said you used to be a cop. How come you aren’t anymore?” I bite on my lip to stop myself from apologizing for my question. If he gets upset because I’ve asked him then I’ll know he’s not ready to talk about it.

      Sam places our drinks down in front of us and winks at me before he walks away. I raise my glass, taking my first sip of the cool, minty drink. It’s so delicious my eyes close while I savor the taste on my tongue.

       Kyle takes a long pull of his beer and licks his lips. “Three years ago, I got shot in the line of duty and I couldn’t get clearance from my doctor to go back to work.”

      A sharp gasp leaves me. Holy shit. He was shot.

      “I didn’t want a desk job at the station. It would’ve been too difficult to know what’s going on and not be able to be there helping out when shit breaks down.” He looks down at the beer bottle he’s twisting between his palms on the bar. “My buddy, Derek, wanted to start a private investigation business and I had some money to invest. We became partners and, as they say, the rest is history.”

      “Where were you shot?” I ask him, carefully observing his reaction.

      He winces at the question making me wonder about the details. “In the head.”

      My mouth drops open at his answer. I’m in complete shock.

      His eyes slide to mine. “I’m sure you’re wondering how someone survives a gunshot to the head.”

      I nod my head in agreement, my eyes wide.

      He rhythmically taps his index finger on his bottle and stares at the green colored glass. “Most don’t survive it, but somehow I got lucky and the bullet missed all the vital parts of my brain. The doctors put me in a medically induced coma for two weeks and once I woke up and was stable enough to be moved, I went to a rehab facility. I spent about twelve weeks total in the hospital and in rehab. I had to re-learn how to do a lot of day to day things. One side was affected more than the other. It was a relief when I finally got to go home. I lost some of my memory and there are some after effects from the injury. I get excruciating headaches, I have short term memory issues and mood swings, just to name a few.”

       His eyes raise to mine and they’re clouded and troubled. I don’t know him well, but I do know sharing all of this can’t be easy for him.

       I find myself leaning toward him as I place my hand on his forearm, hoping to offer him some comfort. “I’m so sorry you went through all of that, Kyle. What a horrible time it must have been for you and Kenna. Do you want to tell me what happened the day you got shot or do you want to save it for another time?” I nervously chew on my bottom lip and wait for him to answer. I don’t want to push him to say more than he’s comfortable with, but I’d like to know the details.

       He tips back his bottle and my eyes are drawn to the strong line of his neck as I watch his throat move as he swallows down the remainder of his beer. I slide my hand down his arm to squeeze his fingers in encouragement. I sit there silently waiting for him to say something. He takes my hand, lifting it to his head and presses down on my fingers until I can feel the spot where he was shot. I fight the urge to recoil or shudder at the dent like feel of his scar.