Page 12 of Marginally Yours
She looks up at me, pulling away just enough to put a few inches between us, and her eyes are watery. Fuck, did I say something wrong again? But then the corners of her mouth curl up, and before I even realize what's happening, her hands are locked together behind my neck and she's closing the distance.
Oh, thank fuck.
Chapter Eight
Obviously, I had high hopes that this is how this evening would end up going, but I definitely didn't expect her to start it. I figured I'd make a snap decision and go for it, and maybe she'd kiss me back to be polite, or maybe she'd punch me in the face and call an Uber. But here she is, arms wrapped around my neck, soft lips on mine, and I'm completely frozen.
I realize with horror that I'm still buffering and not actually reciprocating, and I need to change that immediately. Retroactively, if possible. I glide a hand up the line of her jaw, tilting her face and deepening the kiss as much as I can while we're both still seated in the booth. Her tongue presses at the seam of my lips and I can feel my blood rushing in my ears. I open, and we become a tangle of tongues and teeth for less than 15 seconds before the trance is broken by someone whistling from across the restaurant.
"Get a room," a teenage boy calls out, presumably the source of the whistle as well, and his gaggle of friends start cackling. I'm categorizing murder charges by the years again when Callie pulls away, lips swollen and face flushed. She looksaround to see what caught my attention and her cheeks heat when she sees the table full of boys staring at us and laughing.
I expect her to be embarrassed, but she just laughs back. She lays that hand back on my knee again, a little higher this time, and actuallywinksat me as my leg stiffens under her grip. Among other things. Potentially visible things.Fuck.I try to discreetly adjust, but of course she notices.
She lets out a soft chuckle and leans back in the booth, hand still firmly - maybe firmer - in place, and shoves a nacho into her mouth. My eyes are cemented to her lips already, and it takes all of my willpower to drag them back up to her eyes. She is absolutely enjoying herself right now.
"Hmm," she starts, and I can tell by the glint in her eye that she's about to torture the absolute shit out of me. She sticks another nacho in her mouth and examines her fingers while she chews. Then, in what could be deemed as an act of war, she looks down at the wet wipe packs and then stares me right in the eye and sucks her thumb into her mouth. She hollows out her cheeks and sucks off whatever probably imaginary residue was on it. Yep, incoming cardiac arrest. She's an actual serial killer.
I try to groan quietly, but it comes out as a growl. The look on her face shifts from mischievous to downright feral and I'm immediately trying to memorize the noise I made so I can do it again later. She releases her thumb with a tiny pop and pushes down on my thigh to lift herself up in her seat, brushing the top of her nose along my jawline.
"I think I've had enough of the arcade," she mumbles, her breath heating the shell of my ear. Her lips graze my cheek as she sinks back down beside me, and I fight to suppress the next groan because I know it willnotbe quiet. I quickly rip open a wet wipe and clean up, tossing it on top of the half-eaten nachos.
I manage a grunt of agreement, and she scoots out of thebooth. I stand up and immediately regret that decision, along with the decision to wear a particularly tight pair of jeans today. Luckily, Callie is standing directly in front of me, so my bulge is concealed from the general public. I slip some cash from my wallet and leave it on the table with the bill.
When I turn back to her, she's looking back at me over her shoulder with a wicked grin, and my brain ceases all rational thought. I slither one hand around her waist, settling low on her hip, and bury my face in her hair. With a memorizing inhale, I tilt my body around her so she can see my lips.
"Definitely time to go," I whisper, my right hand squeezing her hip and pulling her back into me. She arches her back just enough to rub her ass against the hard ridge already threatening to tear a seam in my jeans and I wince at the involuntary groan I let out. People are starting to look at us again.
"You're fucking trouble, you know that?" I mumble to myself, but I already know that she's well and truly fucking aware. It takes every ounce of willpower I have but I give her hip a gentle push towards the door.
She stays close, aware that she's the only thing blocking the view. As soon as we're outside, I shift so I'm walking next to her, but my hand doesn't leave her hip until we're coming up on the passenger side of my car. I use my grip to spin her around and clamp my hand down on the roof of the car next to her head, my other hand sliding up to the side of her throat. My fingers splay across her cheek, and I use my thumb to tilt her head back. She meets my eyes and her gaze is molten.
I'm still waiting to snap out of it and wake up in bed with a hard on.
She surges up on her toes and her mouth is on mine again. My thumb slides down, my hand wrapping around the column of her throat, and I squeeze softly without thinking.Fuck. I'm not sure what's possessing me, but I've never acted like this before. Neverneededlike this before.
I release my hand and pull away, an apology ready, but the moan she lets out and the look of desperate need on her face has my hand right back where it was. Her gaze flicks back and forth between my eyes for a moment before it drifts behind me, scanning the parking lot full of cars.
Her eyebrows knit together, and I can see her wheels turning. The lampposts are far enough apart that there’s not much light on us, but there’s enough. Anyone walking past could see us. Her expression is torn between want and fear. I run my thumb over her pulse point gently, comfortingly. A promise without words.It’s your choice.Her decision flashes across her face, heated and heady, as if there was never another choice to begin with.
"So..." she rasps, placing her hand gently over the one I've got wrapped around her throat and holding it in place. "Where to next?" She digs two fingers into the waistband of my jeans and yanks me forward. I brace the arm on the car just in time to avoid crushing her.Okay, that's it.
I grab her chin in the palm of my hand, a little rougher than I intended to, and lean in close. "Fucking troublemaker," I grit out. She should definitely be pulling away at this point, but her impish smile and heated eyes tell me that she's exactly where she wants to be. The point is further proven when she snakes one hand up to the back of my neck, nails digging into skin, and uses the other to palm my cock through my jeans.
"Thenfuckthetroublemaker, Devon."
I take a deep breath as the last thread of my self-control snaps. I spin her by her hips and pin her against the side of the car, burying my face in the crook of her shoulder again. She smells like lavender and something woody, like cedar or sandalwood. I take another deep breath, embedding it into my brain. I roll my hips against her, digging into her ass, and she lets out a breathy moan. My right hand comes up to wrap lightlyaround her throat again while the other holds her in place, still wrapped around her hip.
She tilts her head back a bit, and it feels like an invitation, so I squeeze just a little tighter. The strangled moan she lets out tells me that was exactly what she was asking for, so I press in on the sides a bit more, not enough to cut off her breath yet, and slide my other hand up her side. Her skin feels like it's on fire through the fabric of her sweater, and I need to feel it on my own skin immediately. I skate my hand back down to her waist and up under her sweater, trailing my fingertips up her ribs in gentle strokes. Callie gasps, arching her back at my touch, so I flatten my palm against her and pull her back against my chest.
"Fuckingperfect," I rumble against her ear. I’m close enough that she can probably hear me, but she definitely felt it with her back pressed tightly against my chest. My hand grazes up farther, slipping under the wire of her bra to palm her breast as she moans again. They're the perfect size for a handful, like I was meant to be holding them at all times. Maybe I can convince her. Probably not. We'll see.
My fingers brush over her hardened nipple and her hand flies up to my forearm, nails digging into my skin. The sting from the punctures makes me flex my hand on her throat, eliciting the sweetest whimper I've ever heard. I roll her nipple between my fingers and it's a good thing I've got her pinned to the car because her knees buckle. She digs her nails deeper into my arm. "Please," she begs, pushing back against me as hard as she can.
Well, how could I deny her when she asks so nicely?
I gently trail my fingers back down her side, slow enough to be torture, and take half a step back. Before she can protest my absence, I slide my hand inside her leggings and run my middle finger up her dripping center.Fuck, literally dripping.I repeat the motion, pressing a little further in every time. Shetries to grind down, but I'm not done tormenting just yet, so I hold her in place with the hand under her chin.
My chest rumbles with a warning growl and she tilts her head back, leaning it against my shoulder. Her lips are parted, breath coming out in quick, faint pants, and I realize that the hand around her throat is almost fully constricting her air. I release most of the pressure, but she uses the newfound freedom to whip her head as far in my direction as she can and glare daggers at me. Okay, then. Good to know.
