Page 11 of Trussed In Hope
An exchange…
EMBERLYNN
The ride to dinner was silent and filled with tension. I should have left when I first got there. Instead, I let Hardison persuade me into things like coffee, massages, fun, and food. Inwardly, I cringed at how likable he was. And that hug earlier gave me too much physical contact. Too much comfort.
When I gave him massages, I was focused on making him feel less pain than when we started. Sure, I noticed how toned he was, the strength in his hips and thighs, and how freaking solid Hardison was. But something clicked in my mind–that our interactions were medical, so I didn’t allow myself to get lost in the physical. Back in that confined space where we hid playing laser tag, there was a mixture of the two–physical and mental comfort.
I could feel the anxiety rolling off him in streams, so I tried to calm him. The game was irrelevant. All I cared about was that he was okay. But then I’d realized that I’d touched him, offered hima path back to reality by connecting with him. Even in the dark, I could tell he wanted to kiss me. Hell, I’d also wanted to. His lips were perfect, not too thin and not too full. They appeared soft and exuded a magnetism that tried–convincingly–to pull me in to them.
Earlier, when he’d pulled me into his arms at the car, he’d lent me comfort, and it worked. He’d fizzled out the pain and replaced it with warmth. I’d relaxed so easily in his arms as if we’d done it a million times. We’d only just met, yet the discomfort one usually felt when meeting someone hadn’t appeared. He hadn’t overstepped once, and I felt like he had been honest with me—something that I couldn’t find from anybody but my patients and best friend. His sincerity and bold expression were something I hadn’t expected. A turn-on that I didn’t want to power off. Not if it was his natural demeanor.
I watched as we passed trees, houses, and businesses, and when we pulled into a steakhouse parking lot, my stomach kindly let me know it was time to fill it.
Hardison opened my door, but he didn’t offer his arm. He kept his distance, and that felt shitty. Unable to stand the tension, I stopped walking.
He paused, then turned in my direction. “Is everything okay?”
“Not really. Hardison, what are we doing here?” I sighed because I was irritated by it all. I came here to end this before it even began, and yet I was asking this insane question. I wasn’t the girl who pined after a man on the first date–or whatever this was.
“I thought we were getting food.” He shrugged.
“Yes, but after… after…”
“After you pulled away from me, you mean?” His squinted eyes and pursed lips told me he wasn’t happy.
“Yes, I… Look, I can’t handle being affectionate when things are casual between us. You escort me to my room, offer me your arm to go to the car, hold me when I’m sad, call me Queen, and you cooked for me!” I felt like a fool shouting in the parking lot, but I couldn’t help how heavy this felt.
Hardison limped over to me and got so close that I thought he was going to kiss me.
“Emberlynn, we were matched together because of our compatibility. Obviously, denying it is going to be difficult. I’m not. I trust the process. I know that I’m attracted to you. Know that I want to give this a real shot. For the entire time that you’re with me, I’m treating you exactly how I would if we’d met any other way. Like you’re mine to treat as I wish. That means spoiling, touching, communicating, and damn it, anything else I decide that I’d want to share or do with any woman I’m interested in.”
“You’re interested?” My voice softened.
“I’m not just entertaining you because you’re staying with me. I could get that kind of companionship anywhere. Don’t you want to get to know more about the man who is supposed to be perfect for you? I know I can’t get enough of you, and this is only the second day. I can already tell that there are so many layers to you. I just hope that I have time to explore them.”
“But I?—”
“Am supposed to be feeling. Not thinking. Save all that for tomorrow. I just want tonight to be about getting to know who we are.”
No. NO. NO! Getting to know one another would make this more real for me than anything else. I didn’t want to unload who I am or who he was when I now understood that touching him made me crazy. Letting him in would only amplify that, making it harder to walk away. And that was the plan, right?
Hardison lifted my chin, and we were a breath away from kissing. Too afraid to close the distance, I swallowed.
“I will chase you, Queen. Understand that if I do, I won’t make it easy on you. I’ll break you down to your core and ruin you. Make it impossible for any other man. When I play, I do it for keeps, and there’s nowhere to hide to get away from me. We can take it slow, but you’ve got to lean into it. Give me enough to satisfy my curiosity. If you don’t, I’ll have to devour you with the appetite of a starved man. And I never play with food. It’s to be savored, not toyed with.”
Oh. My. God. The pulse between my thighs ticked, beating along with my heart as I looked into very serious eyes. I knew he meant every word that he said.
“Yes, sir,” I mumbled like a child being chastised.
“Don’t tease me, Emberlynn.Sirisn’t something I take lightly.” His voice was low and gravelly, almost raw as he spoke. He held his arm out, and I took it gingerly. “Let’s get you fed.”
I nodded because I was so turned on that I was afraid I’d give that away if I spoke.
Inside, we ordered food, sitting next to one another in a booth where the only seat options were side by side. The food was served from the vacant side opposite us. For the appetizer, we had stuffed mushrooms that Hardison insisted on feeding me. Then we had hibachi. I chose salmon, shrimp, and chicken. Hardison had steak, lamb, and shrimp. He fed me bites of his, and I did the same when he kept eyeing my colossal-sized shrimp. I ordered tuna egg rolls, and we shared those.
Completely content, we talked about so many things while we ate. He asked a few questions that sparked conversations that unfolded in many directions.
“So you don’t have any siblings?” he asked while swirling his last piece of steak in sesame seed sauce.
