The Next Move (25 page)

Thirty Seven

         
Playing with the edge of her menu, Kat stared at the vacant chair on the opposite side of the table. She chewed her lower lip, running the toe of her shoe up and down the table leg just to settle her nerves.

         
Something had changed last night.

         
Chris wasn’t wrong to suspect that she was jealous of the girl he was dancing with, but their agreement to keep their future flirtations out of each other’s sight had done little to comfort her. They both knew they’d be seeing—and likely sleeping with—other people, and it was only a matter of time before something got serious. When it did, they’d go back to being friends. No hard feelings, no strings, just friendship, just like before all of this started.

         
Folding her hands on top of her menu and taking a deep breath, she wondered if continuing this arrangement was such a good idea after all. Maybe it was time to talk to him about it. Then they could either let the emotions happen, or go back to being platonic friends before one of them got hurt.

         
But she didn’t know if she
could
go back to the way things were before. She couldn’t erase the things she knew about him now, or the way she felt about him.

         
She couldn’t pretend that last night in the rain wasn’t the hottest thing she’d ever experienced. Nor could she pretend that the way they’d made love afterwards wasn’t the most intimate, sensual, powerful, intense,
emotional
sex she’d ever imagined.

         
Fuck. This is not going to end well. Why am I doing this to myself
?

         
Regardless of how she felt, the rules were rules, and all this arrangement was doing was keeping her an arm’s length away from happiness. She was sexually satisfied beyond her wildest dreams, but emotionally frustrated.

Something had to give.

         
"Sorry I’m late, traffic was a nightmare." Blake’s gentle southern accent and warm smile brought Kat back into the present as he took the chair across from her.

         
She returned his smile as he reached across the table and clasped her hand. With a sweet, attractive,
interested
guy like Blake, what on Earth was she doing getting hung up with the one that was out of her reach?

         
"You look great tonight," he said with a grin, glancing down at her blouse before looking up and winking. Most men came across as sleazy when they so blatantly looked that way, but the shudder that his gaze sent through her was anything but unpleasant.

         
"Are you saying I looked like hell the last few times?" she asked, smirking.

         
"Absolutely not." He lightly drew his fingertip across the back of her hand. "I’m just saying you look especially good tonight."

         
"Likewise" Meeting his eyes, letting his gaze and gentle touch melt every nerve ending in her body, she knew it was time to stop kidding herself. A man like this wasn’t going to wait around forever and Chris wasn’t going to be hers in this lifetime. Better to lose one than both, and Chris would still be there as her friend.

         
Tonight, the wall comes down
.

         
She leaned forward, hoping he couldn’t see how nervous she was. "So, tell me about your latest trip."

         
The conversation meandered to various safe, mundane topics, but there was nothing mundane about the smoldering gazes he sent her way or the way he touched her hands.

His eyes lit up when he found out she was a gun enthusiast, but when he licked his lips and ran his fingertips across the palm of her hand, she couldn’t even remember what kind of gun she owned.

         
"I’m not distracting you, am I?" he drawled.

         
"Yes, you are," she said. "But please, carry on."

"I don’t know if I should," he said, slowing the gentle

motions of his fingers. "Or you’ll never finish a sentence."

         
"I’ll manage."

         
He laughed. "So you were saying…?"

         
She blinked. "What was I saying?"

         
"You said you have a Sig Sauer forty-five." He was obviously amused by his ability to throw her off. "And what else?"

         
She closed her eyes as his finger drifted to the heel of her hand. "And a Winchester Model Seventy."

         
His eyebrows lifted. "Impressive. Competition or recreation?"

         
She shrugged. "A little of both, but I don’t compete as much as I used to. So what about you?"

         
"I sold a few last year, but I still have—" His speech halted and he jumped as she ran the toe of her shoe up the inside of his leg. Then he grinned at her. When her toe found his knee, his fingers wrapped around her ankle and he gently pulled her foot onto the bench beside him. She shivered as his fingertips ran up and down her shin, then back to her ankle.

         
He glanced down and did a double take. "A tattoo?" His thumb traced over it and he grinned when he looked up. "Very sexy."

         
"I have more."

         
"Oh really?" He glanced down at the anklet, then back at her. "How many more? And where?"

         
"One on my other ankle, and the other two…" She winked. "Are a bit less obvious."

         
He swallowed as he let go of her ankle. She pulled her foot back, letting it run alongside his leg on the way down.

         
Pausing to take a drink, he said, "So then I guess that answers my question about whether or not you like tattoos."

         
"I love them."

         
"So do I." He leaned forward, reaching for her hand. His thumb ran up the inside of her wrist. "Maybe if you show me yours, I’ll you mine."

         
Nervousness and excitement mingled in her gut. "I’ve shown you one of mine."

         
"And I’d show you one, but I can’t show them off in polite company."

         
"Then tell me about one of them."

         
He laughed. "Actually, I can show you part of one." He gently freed his hand from hers and unbuttoned his shirt sleeve. "I just can’t show you the whole thing here."

         
Kat craned her neck as he rolled the sleeve partway up his forearm, revealing a kaleidoscope of colors and abstract designs forming a sleeve. "How far up does that go?"

         
"It’s a full sleeve," he said. "All the way up to my shoulder."

         
She had to bite her lip to keep from telling him she couldn’t wait to see the rest of it. "How many more do you have?"

         
"Nine, if you count each sleeve as one."

         
"You have them on both arms?"

         
"Well, the left one isn’t quite finished, but yes." He winked. "However, you can’t see that one until I see another of yours."

         
"Fair enough."

         
He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when her other foot ran up the side of his leg. He looked down and wrapped his fingers around her ankle. "Barbed wire," he said, nodding with approval and shooting her a devilish grin as he let her foot go. "I thought you had a bit of a wild side."

         
"You don’t know the half of it," she said.

         
Folding his hands on the table, just inches away from hers, he leaned towards her and whispered in his mouthwatering southern drawl. "You’re right, I don’t. But I want to."

         
She sucked in a breath, blood pounding in her ears as the words made her clit tingle. She put a hand over his, willing herself to breathe as his hands parted, then closed around hers. Chris’s face flickered through her mind, but she pushed those thoughts aside.

         
The wall comes down. Now
.

She let her fingers lace between his. "Maybe if you show me yours," she said. "I’ll show you mine."

~ * ~

         
Blake slid his arm around her waist as they walked out of the restaurant. "I had a great time, as always."

         
She smiled. "So did I." She laced her fingers between his on her hip. He glanced at her, his warm smile making her knees weak.

         
"Where are you parked? I’ll walk you to your car."

         
"Actually, I took the bus here from work. I was…"

         
"I can take you home, if you’d like."

         
She wetted her lips, wondering whose home he meant. "Are you sure?"

         
His fingers pressed into her hip and drew her a little closer. "Any excuse to spend some more time with you."

         
"Thank you," she said.

         
They didn’t speak for the entire walk to his car, which was a block or so away, but the unasked question was there, crackling in the air between them. Flirting and touching with nerves of steel was easy in the safety of a restaurant. Now the moment of truth was approaching in the form of a silver Jaguar parked up ahead, and her heart pounded.

         
It’s not cold feet. It’s just the first time with someone new
.

         
But, as they both went around to the passenger side of the car, she knew it was more than that. She’d had plenty of one night stands and flings without these nerves. This was that gnawing, uncomfortable feeling that she was standing at a crossroads and had to choose a direction.

         
Blake opened her door, kissing her lightly before she got in. Then he went around to his side, started the car, and paused. She held her breath, wondering if he was going to ask now or if he’d wait for her to invite him in when they arrived at her apartment.

         
He put his hand on the brake and was about to release it, but stopped. "I
was
going to wait until I dropped you off…"

         
Here it comes. Will I? Won’t I
?

         
He swallowed nervously, then smiled. "But I’ve been waiting all night for this." He put his arm around her shoulders, leaned across the console, and kissed her. After only a second of hesitation, she slid her hand around the back of his neck and let herself get lost in the gentle intensity of his kiss.

         
Blake broke the kiss, but still held her close. Running his fingers through her hair, he whispered, "I don’t want to rush you, but if you want to, I don’t live far from here…" His

eyes finished the question.

         
Her heart pounded.
This is it. This is the crossroads. Chris or Blake
?

         
Blake wants me the way I wish Chris wanted me
.

         
Getting hung up on Chris is a dead-end street
.

         
He swallowed. "If you don’t—"

         
"I do." She kissed him and whispered, "I want to."

Thirty Eight

         
Blake unlocked the door and held it open for her. The house was dark except for the otherworldly turquoise glow from an aquarium on one side of the living room, but she wasn’t interested in getting a better look at the shadowy suggestions of furniture and décor. Everything that held her interest in his house was behind her, closing the door and turning the deadbolt.

         
His hands closed gently over her shoulders. He didn’t pull her back to him, but instead seemed to use the contact to draw himself closer to her, the warmth of his body sending a shiver up her spine. His fingertips coaxed the sides of her jacket into his hands and he slid it over her shoulders and down her arms. One hand left to, she guessed, put the jacket aside while the other snaked around her waist. There was a quiet intensity in the way he touched her, the way he breathed against her skin, and it raised goose bumps all over her.

         
This
, some distant voice in the back of her mind declared as Blake led her across the short expanse between the door and couch,
is going to be hot
.

~ * ~

         
Chris sank onto the couch, drumming his fingers on the armrest. He tapped his foot against the coffee table and looked around the deserted living room. It had been so long since he’d spent a Saturday night at home alone, he didn’t know what to do with himself.

He was almost certain Kat wasn’t going to call that night. She seemed pretty taken with this guy. It was only a matter of time, assuming she hadn’t slept with him already.

Not that it was any of his business.

         
His gaze swept around the room and paused at his desk. The video camera was next to the computer, still plugged in from the other night when he’d burned their video onto a DVD so she could have a copy. He couldn’t help but grin as he pushed himself off of the couch and went to the desk.

~ * ~

         
Kat exhaled through parted lips as his stubbled chin grazed her skin. His fingers wandered into her hair and she let her head fall back, giving him more access to her neck. His hand cupped her breast through her shirt, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted his skin on hers. She grasped his wrist and moved his hand down.

He tensed, his lips stopping their exploration of her neck. "What’s wrong?"

"Nothing," she whispered. "I just want…" She put his hand on her hip and guided it under her shirt.

A warm breath of laughter just below her ear made her shiver. Gently pulling his hand away, cupping her breast through her shirt again, he lifted his head. He kissed her gently, then looked at her, his lips pulling into that smile that caught her eye the night she met him. The faint blue glow of the aquarium gave his face an oddly surreal look, deepening the shadows beneath his jaw and cheekbones, heightening the sparkle in his eyes.

         
Trailing his fingertips down the side of her face, he whispered, "You wanted to wait."

         
"I did," she said, sliding her hands under his shirt. "But now I don’t."

The backs of his fingers trailed along her jaw and he tilted his head, leaning in to kiss her, but pausing just long enough to whisper. "But maybe now, I want to make
you
wait."

~ * ~

         
Looking at the DVD in his hand, Chris pursed his lips. It seemed wrong somehow to watch it alone, without Kat, but wasn’t that the whole point? Wasn’t that why he’d burned a copy for her? They’d both agreed never to show it to anyone else, but she hadn’t forbade him from watching it alone.

         
And, if nothing else, it was as close to Kat as he was going to get tonight.

         
He put the DVD in the player, picked up the remote, and dropped onto the couch again.

~ * ~

         
Kat’s bra went slack around her shoulders. Blake trailed a finger along her collarbone, hooking it under her bra strap and gently drawing it over her arm. His fingers went into her hair as he lowered her onto the couch, his mouth never leaving hers as they sank together onto the cushions.

         
"My God, I’ve been wanting you since the day I met you," he murmured, barely breaking the kiss. His hand drifted over her hip and coaxed her skirt up her thigh. She took a breath as his fingertips nudged her knees apart before traveling slowly up the inside of her thigh.

         
"You didn’t mind waiting?"

         
His tongue parted her lips again, the tip meeting hers briefly, as if he only wanted a quick taste. "Absolutely not." As his fingers slipped inside her, he kissed her neck.

She closed her eyes, moaning softly.

~ * ~

         
Chris leaned forward as Kat closed her eyes, her soft moan sending shivers up his spine and making his cock twitch. But it wasn’t just the fact that she was aroused. Like never before, her face fascinated him. Or maybe it was just that he could look without worrying about her noticing him staring.

         
Only her face was visible, the camera paling her complexion, but not completely obscuring the flush of arousal that darkened her cheeks and neck.

Every nuance of her facial expressions mesmerized him. The way her eyebrows pulled together in the same moment that her lips parted. When her eyes flew open as she gasped, and she looked past the camera, as if focusing on nothing, he was certain there were tears in her eyes. She pressed her lips together, wetting them, sucking her lower lip into her mouth as if she could taste what she was feeling on her own lips.

Unconsciously, he licked his own lips, remembering

the sweetness of her pussy on his own tongue in that moment as she inched closer to orgasm. His thumb absently ran up and down his index and middle fingers, shuddering at the memory of her pussy tightening around them.

~ * ~

         
"Bend your fingers a little, just…"
The way you always do
, she almost said, remembering just in time that she wasn’t with Chris. She was with—

         
Her eyes flew open. She was with…

         
Holy hell, what is your name
?

         
Not Chris.

         
Chris knew just how to touch her inside, how to find her G-spot like he’d put it there himself. Guilt tugged at her gut, withering her arousal.
How can I forget his damned name
? She’d occasionally been so turned on that she’d forgotten her own name, but she wasn’t that turned on now, she certainly remembered her own name, and she couldn’t
forget
the name of the man she wanted.

         
Blake
.

         
It finally came to her, but the relief that followed didn’t extend to her conscience.

~ * ~

         
Something sank in Chris’s gut. He picked up the remote and turned off the video, looking away before her image disappeared from the screen. He needed her, but not like this. He needed to be closer to her.

         
Closer than the television would let him get.

         
Closer than the rules would let him get.

         
Closer than
she
would let him get.

~ * ~

         
"Wait." She gently pushed his head away. Pushed
him
away. "Stop. Please."

         
"What’s wrong?" He put his hand on her arm as they both sat up. He didn’t try to push her backward, it was simply an affectionate gesture, a need for contact.

         
"I can’t, I’m sorry." She swung her legs over the couch and smoothed her skirt as she reached for her blouse.

         
He picked her bra up off the table and handed it to her. "Kat, if I’m doing something wrong—"

         
"No, no, you’re not." She avoided his eyes, blinking back tears as she put her bra on. "It’s not that. I just…"

         
His hand gently rested on her thigh and she was thankful he’d chosen to touch somewhere that was covered by clothing. It probably wasn’t accidental; Blake was a sweet guy, a gentleman. That was why it killed her to do this, but it was why she had to do this. He deserved better than a woman who couldn’t remember his name.

         
"Blake, I’m sorry, I’m just…" She pulled her shirt on. "I just can’t." Chewing the inside of her cheek to keep from breaking down, she looked at him. She owed him that much.

         
He swallowed hard. "Okay," he whispered. "I’m not going to make you do something."

         
"Thank you," she said.

         
He cleared his throat. "Come on, I’ll drive you home." He started to stand, but she caught his arm.

         
"No."

         
"But, your apartment is halfway across town," he said.

         
"I know." She stood and took a deep breath. "But… I’ll get home. Don’t worry about me."

         
He said nothing, but stood and walked her to the door. By all rights, he could have cold-shouldered her. Handed over her purse and coat, pointed her towards the door, and advised her not to let it hit her on the way out.

But that wasn’t Blake. He held her coat for her, then held the door, every act of undeserved kindness killing her a little bit more.

On her way down the porch steps, she realized the door hadn’t closed behind her yet. She stopped and looked over her shoulder. He leaned against the doorframe, his expression unreadable.

"Do you want me to call you?" he asked.

She looked at the walkway for a moment, then back at him. "Do you still want to call me?"

He paused. "Yeah, I do."

She smiled softly. "Just give me a couple of days."

"I will. Good night, Kat."

"Good night." She turned to go as he disappeared into the house. Not sure how she felt about the fact that the metaphorical door was still open, she turned her attention to getting home.

~ * ~

Chris watched his cell phone on the table, trying to will

it to ring. He hoped Kat was having a good time, but damn if he didn’t wish she would call. It was tempting to go into the kitchen and grab a beer, but that off chance, that inkling of a chance that she might call, told him to lay off the alcohol.

         
Just in case.

~ * ~

         
A block or so away from Blake’s house she dug her cell phone out of her purse. She really didn’t want to pay for a cab. The buses weren’t running this late at night. She still had just enough pride that it would be a cold day in hell before she showed up at Blake’s door and said that, on second thought, she’d like a ride.

         
But there was still Chris.

~ * ~

         
Chris rested his elbows on his knees and steepled his fingers in front of his lips. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop looking at that damned phone.

         
It was after eleven, well past the time she usually called. He sighed. It wasn’t going to happen, not tonight.

         
Whoever you are, you are one lucky, fucking bastard
.

~ * ~

         
She stared at his number.

         
Booty call, friends with benefits, whatever he was, Chris was first and foremost her friend. She knew he would come get her if it was two in the morning with a foot of snow on the ground.

         
And God knew she wanted him that night. She wanted him
bad
.

         
She wanted him in ways she couldn’t even begin to explain to him, because they’d agreed not to go there. But how long could she really pretend that she didn’t feel this way? Sooner or later, something had to give.

         
Swallowing hard, blinking back tears, she hit 'send' and waited for the other end to pick up.

~ * ~

         
Sighing, he picked up his silent phone and headed into the bedroom to call it an early night.

~ * ~

         
"Emerald City Taxi Service?"

Thirty Nine