Page 52 of Confessions of a Carpool Captive
“No!”
He picks me up and tosses me on the bed, only I’m holding onto his arm and the blanket is tangled between us, so he loses his balance and ends up falling on top of me.
“Ow. Now that hurt,” I laugh.
He pushes himself up a bit and his face is next to mine.
He brushes my hair out of my eyes. He’s lying on top of me, with just a flimsy blanket separating our bodies from each other. He bends and presses his forehead to mine.
“Your parents can’t see. No need to put on a show,” I tell him in a whisper.
“Who said any of that was for my parents’ benefit?”
“What does that mean?” I ask.
“Come on, Liz. You’re a smart girl. You have to know by now.”
“Know what?” I question as he lifts his forehead from mine.
“Did you feel anything when I kissed you?”
I swallow hard. “I felt your lips.”
He chuckles. “And?”
“And what? What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to say: ‘I felt the way you kissed me and I could tell it was more than just a show.’”
“Was it?” I ask.
He smirks. “Are my parents here now?”
I gulp down some air.
Bending his neck, he lightly touches his lips to mine before I can respond. He stares into my eyes as if to gauge my reaction. If he expects me to fight him, he’s going to be disappointed. I’ve wanted to kiss him for what seems like forever.
Reaching up, I place my fingers in his hair and he deepens the kiss, his eyes closing. I love his hair and the way it feels in my hands. He parts my lips with his tongue and kisses me passionately, pressing his body against mine and into the bed. I roll slightly and he moves his torso so that I can feel him against my legs. Instinctively, I try to open my legs to give him access, but the blanket between us won’t allow it. His tongue caresses mine and it stirs feelings in me I don’t recognize.
He pulls at the blanket between us as I attempt to roll to the side to move it. Together we tumble onto the floor, with me on top.
“That was loud,” he whispers.
He kisses the tip of my nose, then my cheek as I attempt to stand. I hold out my hand to him and help him get up. He picks up the blanket, rolls it into a wad and throws it in the back corner of the room.
My eyes travel over his body and my nerves get the best of me. I don’t know what to make of our make-out session. I’m not sure how I feel all of a sudden.
He seems to sense my anxiety. “It’s late. Let’s just get some sleep.”
I nod my head. He starts back to the couch.
“Finn, please sleep on the bed,” I beg.
His shoulders visibly slump in frustration.
“I’ll tell you what. Let’s both sleep on the bed. You stay on your side and I’ll stay on mine. Deal?” I ask.
He smiles. “Deal.”
