Page 14 of Dirty Daria
I’m captivated.
“You’re gorgeous.”
“My sister is gorgeous,” she says. “I am interesting.”
“Agree to disagree.”
“I hate that saying. Americans love to contradict. Same difference. Agree to disagree. Jumbo shrimp.” She laughs at her own joke.
“You’re confusing oxymoron with concession.”
“Meaning?”
“‘Same difference’ and ‘jumbo shrimp’ are oxymorons. The two words are used together but mean the opposite. Whereas ‘agree to disagree’ is more like a compromise or a concession. We acknowledge the difference in opinion but choose to move on with the conversation anyway.”
“Hmmm.”
I can’t tell if that means she agrees or not.
“Still gorgeous,” I say to the top of her head, her hair tickling my lips. Pretty sure I could stay like this for a while, holding her in my arms, swaying to the music. I haven’t had this kind of reaction to a woman in a long time.
I like it.
We stay this way for two more songs, not talking just feeling. At least for me that’s what it was: feeling content. Which is why, when the next song is faster and she tilts her head up and says thank you, I lean in and kiss her softy on the lips. Letting my own linger a moment on hers before pulling back.
Her mouth stays in a small “o” while she looks up at me with surprise.
Don’t worry, babe, I shocked myself when I did it too.
Which is why I’m even more surprised when she pulls my head back down to hers and captures my lips in a deeper kiss. One that I quickly take control of. My right hand letting go of hers to move up and cup her cheek, holding her in place while my tongue seeks entrance. She snakes her other hand around my neck, my sport jacket falling from her shoulders to the floor.
I propel us off the dance floor and back to the side of the bar. She pulls away before I have a chance to back her up against the wall.
“Wait.” She rushes to pick up my jacket, slipping her arms into it before returning. Then, as though she’d never left, backs herself against the wall and pulls me to her, resuming the position. I slip my hands down to cup her ass and squeeze.
She moans in my mouth.
My tongue duels with hers. And when I go in for more, she meets me swipe for swipe, bite for bite, and lick for lick in equal measure, making my head spin. My hand slides from her ass to her thigh, I pull her leg up to wrap around my hip. She takes it one step further and wraps both legs around me, her dress riding up around her waist. The tails of my sport jacket covering anything on the sides that might be visible to onlookers. I grind my pelvis against her, the closest I’ve come to dry humping in years, as we continue to make out. Her heat penetrating through my slacks, making me wish I was sinking into it instead of just rubbing against it.
She kisses her way along my jawline to my ear and moans, “God, don’t stop.”
“No chance.”
Her legs tighten in a vice grip around my waist as her teeth sink into my neck and she shudders through her release. The sound that emanates from her chest is animalistic in nature. A man could get addicted to a sound like that. I might be already. Thawing the ice is one thing, melting her entirely until she loses control is mesmerizing.
I hope she doesn’t plan to leave because I have no intention of letting her go.
8
Mack - Ten Months Ago
“I don’t know, howdoI tell the woman I love I know she’s lying about who she is without admitting I’m doing the same?” I squeeze the back of my neck with my hand, frustrated. “Shit, dumbass, these are the messes you get into when you aren’t honest with the person you’re seeing.”
I grumble into the night, not waiting for a response since I’m talking to myself. Instead, I continue to pace in the alley behind the bar, my shoes wearing a path in the concrete with my incessant back and forth. I’ve been here for twenty minutes, playing out different scenarios in my mind and trying to produce one I’m happy with.
I’ve yet to be successful.
At a time when I should be telling her I love her, suggesting we move in together, I’ll instead be confessing I’ve been following her when she heads out late at night. My problem isn’t that she goes out when she should be sleeping, it’s what she’s doingwhileshe’s out. Which is why I’ll have to tell her who I really am. And cause a clusterfuck of epic proportions.
