Before he can retreat, I take his hand in mine, cleaning the sauce from his index finger with my tongue. I stare into his eyes, watching the grin on his face tilt with a different emotion. Something darker, closer to mine. I switch my focus to his thumb, running my tongue along the pad then taking it into my mouth with a light suck.
The last of his smile fades, his eyes fixed on my lips while he licks his. When my mouth leaves his finger, the quietest growl rumbles from him before he replaces his finger with his mouth.
His kiss is plush, teasing, the slow suck of my lips as intoxicating as his food. He slips in his tongue, the heat blooming through me. I hold his face in my hands, the kiss deepening, our breaths heavier with each touch of our tongues.
He tugs my hips against his, and I feel the excitement in his pants. My hand goes to it, wanting to feel his desire for me in more detail.Must be so uncomfortable in there, friend. Let’s give you some air.
Just as I start to unfasten his fly, the smell hits me. “Is something burning?” I ask.
“Shit!” He turns, removing the offender from its burner.
“Sorry. I need to control myself.”
“I’d rather you not.” He tosses one last smirk over his shoulder. He knows exactly what he does to me.
To distract myself from my urge to climb him, I pull the business card out of my pocket again, holding it on my palm as if it’s a priceless historical scroll. My first interview invitation in months, and it fell into my hands when I wasn’t even expecting it. My thumb runs over the embossed letters of the woman’s name, Jacinda Howell, her boss lady title and company QR code below it. I pick up my phone and scan it, planning to stalk them until dinner is done, but when I see the About page, I can’t get myself to scroll at all.
The Bay Area’s Premiere Exhibit Design Firm.This job is in San Francisco?
Stunned by this new information, I watch Liem finish up, adding garnish to our plates as if I’m not going to inhale it in two seconds flat. As perfectly opportune as a job in that location may be, it’s not real yet. Ink on paper, containing no more of a promise than a piece of tissue. I’ll tell him when I’m—
“Ready?” Liem completes my thought, holding a plate in each hand.
My brain short-circuits for a second. I shake it off, tucking my phone and the business card away. “For food? Always.” The rest will come later.
Thirty-two
Liem
How am I supposed to not fall in love with Bri when she makes me feel like this? I fear I may be on my way down already.
Our second wind hit us hard after dinner. It’s two in the morning, and we’re still going at it, getting a month’s worth of connectedness in one night. Raw, spooning her, stroking it right where she wants me, listening to her cries of pleasure each time I do. Every flinch, every breath captivates me. The gape of her lips when I’m in the right spot, catching her lip between her teeth when the pressure builds, one hand fisting the sheets, the other holding my hip. Not guiding me, just reciprocal touch. She’s a sopping wet mess, as she always is. I’m happily drowning while watching her float in the blissful waters. Her legs tighten, but her cries remain the same. She needs more.
My fingers interlace with hers while my other hand slips between her legs. I kiss her neck, cheek, lips, easing her into the orgasm that is about to shatter her.
She clenches so hard I slip out, plenty of wetness exiting right along with me. I watch the magic before pushing back in and letting her grip onto me while she rides the orgasm. While the sight and sounds are almost enough to make me lose it too, her body brings me over the edge. I moan while my passion floods out of me and into her, the overfill falling onto the sheets, ruining them in the best way.
We pant in the quiet of the room. Now, I’m spent. Drying her off with the towel I laid down is as hard as sprinting a second after waking from a nap.
Still high on oxytocin, I can’t keep the words from spilling from my lips onto the delicious skin of her neck. “I love you so much.” Igo still, wishing I could grab the words from the air and shove them back down my throat.
She reaches behind me, scratching her fingers against my head. “Why did you say it like that?”
“Because I love you. But I’m not in love with you.”I think. “But I really, really love you.”
We’ve been avoiding this conversation all night. “Is that the reason you want to move?”
“It’s a lot of reasons.”
“Like what?”
LikeI’m miserable when I’m away from you.LikeI’m only surviving between phone calls.LikeIf every job is going to be this way, why not take one where I can at least come home to you?“I might lose my job soon anyway, my mom is gone most of the time, my dad still won’t talk to me but wants my money, and you’re . . .”
She cocks her head to the side. “I’m not there?”
“Yeah.”
“And all of that makes you want to move to a new state?”
