Page 42 of Wasted Memories
I dropped the shower head and reached up, bringing my hand to the back of her head, entangling my fingers in her hair. I looked into her eyes, searching for some sort of confirmation that this was okay.
She gave the slightest nod in a silent response. I guided her head down just enough for me to meet my lips with hers. I went in wanting to kiss her softly, to cherish the moment, but once I got a taste of her, a hunger took over me.
Her tongue brushed against my lips as I deepened the kiss. I welcomed her, opening my mouth wide enough to let her in as our mouths clashed together. Standing up, my hands slid under her thighs to lift her up. Her legs wrapped around my waist, her feet crossing behind me.
Our mouths stayed connected as I turned around and pressed her back against the wall, my hands cupping her ass. Her hands were in my hair, tugging just enough to make my dick twitch against the zipper of my jeans. I fucking hated that I wanted more than this. If we did this, we should take it slow, but my mind wanted anything but slow right now.
Setting her down on her feet, she stayed pressed against the wall, forcing me to bend down a few inches to keep my mouth on hers. I cupped her face, tilting it up so I had better access as our tongues danced together.
Kissing her felt like a big drop on a roller coaster that made your stomach do somersaults and stole the breath from your lungs. Her full lips fit like a puzzle piece with mine, our mouths meshing together flawlessly.
“Wait,” she breathed. I stopped, pulling back an inch but keeping my hands on her cheeks.
I knew I’d fuck it up. I should’ve kept my hands to my damn self.
“Is this too soon?” she breathed the question, her chest rising and falling against mine.
I brushed my thumb across her chin, sliding it up to her swollen bottom lip and tugging it down. “Do you think it’s too soon?”
She took a second to think about it, then answered, “I’m tired of putting my life on hold for someone who didn’t want me badly enough in theirs.”
That was a good enough answer for me.
My lips found hers again, the kiss softer this time. “We can just kiss.” I slid one hand into her hair, my other traveling down her body to stop at her hip. My forehead rested against hers, giving her the chance to pull back if she wanted to. “It doesn’t have to be more. Not right now.”
She nodded and my hand squeezed her hip as my erection throbbed in my pants. I wouldn’t be surprised if my damn zipper broke open.
A bubbling noise sounded from down the hall, coming from the kitchen. Reluctantly, I pulled back. “Did you leave something on the stove?”
Her eyes widened. “Oh shit. The sauce!” She rushed out from between my body and the wall, heading for the kitchen. I followed behind her to see the sauce spraying out of the pot as each bubble popped.
She turned the heat off and grabbed the pot, setting it on a different burner. She grabbed paper towels and began mopping up the sauce that was sprayed over the counter. “I guess this is what I get for trying to do something nice.”
I grabbed the cleaner from under the sink and came up next to her, spraying where she had wiped up some of the sauce. Tearing off a few sheets of paper towel, I began wiping up the cleaning solution. “It’s mostly my fault. Don’t feel bad.”
When we finished cleaning the remaining splotches of red sauce, she leaned against the counter and sighed. “Happen to have any spaghetti sauce in your pantry?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.” I opened the pantry door and pulled out a jar, twisting the lid off. “What’s with the cooking?”
“Can a lady not cook?” She eyed me as I waited for the real reason. “Okay, fine. I wanted to say thank you for letting me stay here.”
I poured the marinara sauce into a clean pot and set it on the burner. “With spaghetti?”
She frowned. “I wanted to do a nice gesture, and you’ve been making me dinner every night, and-”
“I know, Em,” I cut her off. “I appreciate it. You don’t have to say thank you or cook to make up for it.” It dawned on me then. I didn’t typically have angel hair noodles, and there sat an empty box on the counter beside the stove. “You went to the store?”
“I had to get some things. I was careful, okay? Jett wasn’t there. The guy never goes to the grocery store.” She grabbed the box off the counter and threw it in the trash.
“You know I trust you, right? It’s him I don’t trust.”
“I have you on speed dial just in case.”
I couldn’t try to keep her locked up in here forever. At some point, something had to give. This wouldn’t work if she felt like a prisoner in this house.
I saw what Jett did to her at the bar. He showed no hesitation when he slapped her and I’m sure he had no second thoughts afterward, either. Then seeing the bruises on her arm.. If he was capable of doing it once, twice, then he was capable of doing it again.
Emerson came up behind me and wrapped her arms around my abdomen. Her cheek was against my back as she spoke. “Get out of your head, Wes. I’m okay.”
