Page 14 of The Secret Experimentation
Fuck, he can really read me this easily? Among my few friends, only Cole can do that, and he’s known me for years.
“Are you this perceptive with everybody?”
“Hiding under this gorgeous appearance there’s a very smart cookie.” He winks at me. Or tries, too since his heavy-looking eyelids are falling down with exhaustion.
“I need to tell you something,” he says sleepily, crooking his fingers, silently asking me to come closer to him.
I do, worrying it has something to do with his wounds.
But in the next second, he lifts his torso from the bed and his lips are on mine. I freeze, my eyes wide with disbelief. My brain for a second incapable of deciphering what the hell is happening.
Mel’s mouth is on mine.The kiss is soft and dry. I don’t respond. I don’t push him away either. When my lips twitch—to move away or deepen the kiss?—he pulls back. There’s a very contented smile on his lips while his eyes are still closed.
He snuggles his face against my neck and moves his small body into mine. I turn rigid, confused and surprised by the sudden closeness. He’s naked but under the sheets, while I’m on top of them and entirely clothed. Still, it feels awkward. I’m not the cuddling type, never have been, even with my exes.
“Thank you,” he puffs warmly on my bare collarbone left on display by the first three open buttons. Then he inhales deeply, brushing his nose on my skin. Goosebumps erupt on my back and arms.
“So good,” I hear him mumble. Did he just sniff me?
“Pixie?” the nickname once again slips from my lips.
“Pixie,” he dreamily whispers. “Like it so much.”
I close my eyes, not quite sure of what to do. Why am I letting him use me as a giant teddy bear? I try to move away, but Mel’s small hands slide out of the sheets and one fists my shirt tightly—making it all wrinkly on top of wet—while the other wraps around my neck. His impressively long leg also peeks out and curls around my waist, anchoring me to him. It’s like having to share a bed with a hairless koala. I sigh heavily trying to remember how the hell I ended up in this position.
I run my hand down my face and then let it fall to Mel’s head. My fingers lazily skim through the soft strands of hair. He lets out a low, cute sound. Like a purr. I try to tuck a lock behind his ear, but it’s too thick. Impossible to tame, just like Mel. When he pushes his lower body closer to me, I feel something hard poking my thigh. My hand stops moving. Yes, I was forced to sleep with Cole on several occasions in college—one in particular involving a jealous hook-up who turned his bed into a dirty backyard. But I never felt his cock trying to drill a hole in my skin.
What shocks me the most is that instead of feeling disturbed by it and jumping back in response, I have my own dick jerking inside my pants. It doesn’t get hard, but my body once again is letting me know it’s…interesting.
What the actual hell is happening to me?My heart is running wild inside my throat, almost choking me and cold sweat is running down my spine. The wetness on my shirt suddenly turns unbearable, and I can almost feel every single long, jarring wrinkle marring the fabric. It’s like having sharp glass brushed on my bare skin.
I need to get out of here. His steady breathing tells me he’s asleep.Thank fuck!
As slowly as I possibly can in my frantic state, I slip away from Mel’s body. I’m on the edge of the bed when I hear a whimper. I freeze. My eyes focus on Mel again. On his shivering body. His head starts jerking, a white-knuckled hand is curled around the sheets, legs kicking and jerking. I can see his eyes moving left and right behind the closed lids. He’s having a nightmare. Probably related to the shelter incident.
Inner panic and the shirt issue are replaced by a strong sense of protectiveness. I once again reach his body making a longshhhsound,hopefully soothing him. My large hand covers his head completely, thumb brushing his forehead. I don’t know what I’m fucking doing. The only thing I do know is that I want to comfort him. And that I’m the worst person to do it.
Still, I murmur reassuring nonsense that slowly makes him relax. My arm wraps around his waist and I pull him against my body again. His head on my bicep.
I kiss the top of Mel’s head. He makes a small noise of sleepy protest but immediately settles back into a deep slumber.
Something is up with me. Can people really discover huge new aspects about themselves past the age of forty? Or is it just boredom and stress causing this temporary insanity?
The only sure thing is that Mel is at the center of it.
Chapter 4
Theclearingunclearness
A week later I’m at Scott’s AM&PM cafe and bar. The place looks phenomenal.
I like the vintage touches, the black and white pictures on the walls, the designer pink and blue lamps hanging from the dark wooden beams, the white muntins on the sash windows on the front side of the place, the golden brassLadies and Genssign on the bathroom doors.
The old teal bar on the left is long and massive. A young-looking bartender is serving beer and old-timey cocktails with a big smile on his face and some glittery shit on his cheeks. The two waiters are strolling around, serving the customers sitting on the mismatched colorful chairs and comfy sofas near the tables. The music coming from the sound system is smooth and relaxing. Only a few couples are slow dancing on the small dance floor.
The bar is not overly crowded, but it’s still early evening. Scott told me it gets very busy later on.
And I can see how the vibrant atmosphere and the few eccentric characters can suck the patrons in, ready to drink up and have a fabulous evening. The place has been open for three weeks now and my brother did a sensational job—not that I need to tell him. A pat on his big shoulder has to suffice. And a small squeeze, to let him know how proud I am. His brown eyes lift to mine. He’s slightly shorter than me and less bulked, but even though I’d never admit it, he’s stronger and fitter than me.
