Page 63 of Blindside Love

“Trevor, I don’t think we’ve ever been just friends, but we’re about to be if you don’t stop talking and kiss me soon.”

His lips press against mine as one hand slides between my legs, sliding up the inside, his fingertips rubbing light circles against my inner thigh as his tongue traces down my neck.

Right as his fingers start to slide up, exactly where I want them, a delivery truck pulls down the alley, their headlights illuminating the entire place as they are pointed directly at us.

My gut reaction is to be mortified, but as we stand up and start to walk back to the street, I can’t help but start laughing.

Almost getting caught fooling around is exhilarating, and honestly, I loved the rush.

Tom would’ve never done something like that with me. He was way too much of a prude.

I like that Trevor seems to like the rush just as much as me. I just hope it’s only with me.

“Did you mean it?” Trevor asks as he turns me to him right outside the restaurant. “What you said about us?”

“As much as I wish I could lie to you and tell you I didn’t mean it, I can’t. We’ve always skirted the boundaries. I mean, there are such blurred lines between us already that it shouldn’t come as a surprise that we’ve turned into something even if we haven’t wanted to admit it yet.”

“So… are we finally going to start admitting it?”

“To each other? Yes. To the world? I think that’ll take a little time. I’ve still got Addy to think about, and with nothing figured out with Tom yet, I don’t need anything impacting her.”

Trevor smiles, a big, cheesy grin that lights up his entire face. Wrapping his arms around my back, he pulls me into him, kissing me. It’s quick, but definitely not chaste, and when he sets me down, I realize just how turned on he is right now.

But first… we need to eat.

“Have you two decided on dinner?” our server asks, her smile kind as she tops off our wine. I can’t help my annoyance as I watch her check out Trevor; it’s only little glances, but enough that I can tell she likes what she sees.

Oh, girl, you should see what that body can do, especially naked. He’s an actual fucking work of art.

I want to be jealous. My initial gut reaction is to feel self-conscious that another woman is looking at him, but I don’t. When Tom and I first got together, I always questioned the other women around him, but towards the end, I questioned him. He would make me believe it was all in my head, and I was just insecure, but obviously, my gut was right.

But Trevor’s given me no reason to be jealous. In fact, he’s actually shown me the opposite. Up until tonight, we haven’t been anything but friends. He could have looked at whoever he wanted, but he never did. And right now, he hasn’t stopped eye-fucking me since we got to the restaurant. I don’t think he’s even noticed that the waitress is checking him out. His thoughts about me are so loud, so intense that I can practically hear them.

His eyes scream trouble.

The deep emerald of his eyes is dark, no longer their usual bright orbs. They’re swirling with the remnants of his fantasies and desires. I should run. Get up from this table and leave, knowing I’m the victim of these fantasies. Instead, I find myself wanting to jump in and dive headfirst, unafraid of drowning or what may be waiting for me. I welcome his destruction with open arms as long as he’s the one catching me.

It’s hard sitting in this restaurant when we’ve been fighting this attraction for weeks. It’s becoming too much, too hard to stay away, and I either have to accept it and give in or move.

But I know deep down that moving has never been an option. I mean, look at what he did for me, just for my birthday. How can I not feel special when he does that? How can I not recognize how special he is after what he’s done for me? He’s nothing like anyone I’ve ever been with, especially not Tom, so how can I judge him the same way?

The least I can do is to give him a fair chance. Plus, how can I turn a man down when there’s so much promise of naughtiness in his eyes?

I mean, it is my birthday after all.

I break eye contact with him, turning to smile at our server as she patiently waits for our order. Her gaze is still on Trevor as she waits for him to acknowledge her, but he’s still looking at me, his hand gripping my thigh. His thumb continues to rub slow circles on my inner thigh.

“We have,” I interject, her attention snapping to me, her smile in place, but I don’t miss the disappointment that she can’t ogle him as much. “Can we get two daily specials? Both medium rare, a side of the veggie medley and baked potatoes—loaded, please,” I say, forcing a smile as Trevor’s fingers slowly drift further and further up my skirt, getting closer and closer to where I want him. Where I’m craving him. Where I’ve been thinking about him nonstop since we made out in the alley. His fingers continue their path, grazing my flesh, and I can feel the exact moment he notices that I’m not wearing any panties.

I feel like I can’t breathe. His touch is so hot, so overwhelming, that I feel like I’m on fire, like I’m going to explode if he keeps touching me, yet I would die if he stopped.

As she types in our orders onto her tablet, Trevor grins at the waitress as he slides two fingers through my center, coating himself in my wetness. His eyes darken but he doesn’t stop, his fingers now rubbing circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves he always finds so easily.

I can’t breathe, can’t move, can’t speak. I literally can’t do anything because of any extra stimulation and I’m sure I’m going to give myself away and embarrass myself by screaming for the entire restaurant to hear.

Not exactly my idea of an ideal date.

My nails dig into his thighs as he continues rubbing circles against my clit, two fingers slowly working inside of me as he smiles up at the waitress.

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