Page 60 of Mistaken Impression

“If it ever gets published, I’ll let you.”

“If it ever gets published, I’ll buy a copy, and you won’t be able to stop me.”

She has a point, although the thought of Ella reading my novel fills me with fear. I’ve written it to be read… just not necessarily by her. I dread to think what she’d make of my storyline. Would she agree with Delilah that it’s lacking in originality?

“Can I get you something to drink?” I feel the need to change the subject.

“I’m driving, so I’d better stick to soda.”

“If by that you mean Coke, then would you prefer it with or without caffeine?”

“Without, thanks.”

I head for the kitchen, pouring two glasses of Coke, and return to the living area, where we both sit on the couch. I hand her a glass and she takes a sip, while I watch her, unable to stop myself from thinking about how much I want to kiss her. It’s a constant thought now, but the problem is, I don’t know for sure whether she’s available.

I put my glass on the table in front of us, wondering how to go about this, and coming up empty. We can’t sit in silence, though. I need to say something…

“Tell me about Paris.” It feels like a reasonable starting point.

She tips her head slightly. “You’ve been there yourself. What do you want to know?”

Okay… that went well. “I don’t know. I’m just making conversation.”

“Why?”

“Because we can’t sit here and say nothing all evening.”

She turns in her seat, so she’s facing me. “I know that. What I mean is, why don’t you say what you’re really thinking… because I don’t think it’s got anything to do with Paris.”

“No, it hasn’t.”

“Okay…” She stares at me, waiting, and I decide I might as well tell her the truth… and be damned.

“I was thinking how much I want to kiss you.” Her eyes widen. “But I’m not sure how you feel about that.”

“Why don’t you try it and see?”

My heart stills and I move closer, taking her glass and putting it beside my own. Then I lean in until my lips are almost touching hers.

“I’m not treading on anyone’s toes, am I?” I have to know…

“What do you mean?”

“Are you seeing anyone? Is there a secret husband or boyfriend I don’t know about?”

She shakes her head. “Do you think I’d have said you could kiss me if there was?”

I smile and, without another word, I close the gap between us, covering her lips with mine.

Having essentially been invited, I’m not expecting her to slap me, but neither am I expecting what happens next. No sooner have my lips touched hers than she sparks to life, her arms coming up around my neck, her breasts crushed against my chest. Our tongues clash and she moans into my mouth. There’s nothing tentative about this, and I like it. I reach over, grabbing a hold of her, and pull her up onto my lap. She straddles me and shimmies closer still, my cock pressing hard against her core. God… this is hot. I flex my hips, cradling her backside, and she sighs, rocking against me. I know I should probably stop before we both get carried away and take our first kiss into something so much more. Except I don’t want to stop, and I put my hand up inside the back of her blouse, skin against skin. She gasps, breaking the kiss just long enough to whisper, “Blake,” and I pull back, gazing into her fiery eyes, both of us breathing hard.

“Will you do something for me?” I ask.

She blinks a couple of times and nibbles on her bottom lip, which is slightly swollen from our kiss. “What?”

“Will you call me ‘Mac’? You’ve avoided calling me ‘Blain’ over the last few weeks, and I’m grateful for that, but like I said to you when we first met, my friends all call me ‘Mac’.”

“Am I a friend?” she says, with a hint of a tease in her voice.

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