Page 8 of Crossing the Line
“You live in the neighborhood too?” I ask in a high-pitched voice.
His flirtatious smirk doesn’t waver. “I’m surprised we’ve never run into each other. I seem to find you wherever I land.”
As I think back to our encounter in Boston, my heart starts beating like a drum.Is this really going to happen? Are we going to talk about it?
“Yeah,” I breathe, casting my attention to the black-and-white medallion-marbled floors. I trace the circular pattern with my eyes.
“Listen, PG,” he says, regaining my full attention. He closes just about all the distance between us. “I’ve been wanting to say something about that night in Boston.”
My lips part as I fight the urge to be flippant. The night was a big deal for me. I know discussing it with Hercules will bring me some peace about what happened between us.
“Okay,” I wince, feeling my face warm.
Hercules’s eyes narrow just a touch as he studies me. When he puts a hand on my back, my heart flutters like it has wings. “Are you walking home?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say in a strained voice. I clear my throat. “I mean, yes.”That was better.
Leaning in, he asks, “May I escort you, then?”
I glance over my shoulder and catch our images in the mirrored walls of the elevators. “But what about Lauren?”
“She’s not my girlfriend, PG. Relax.”
I grimace. “But she’s your date, isn’t she?”
“No. Not really.”
“Not really?”
Hercules sighs as if he’s being emotionally drained by our back-and-forth. But I cross my arms, refusing to leave with him if he doesn’t stop being dodgy about Lauren.
“She’s my cousin,” he says.
I jerk my head back in shock. “Oh,” I say, relieved.Why was that so hard to admit?Then I think about the way she stuck to him as if she were metal and he, a magnet. “Kissing cousins?”
Hercules snickers at my probing joke, and with his hand still on my back, he guides me to the drum of the revolving doors. “There’s never been kissing or anything sexual between us. Now, let’s walk. Get some fresh air.”
* * *
Our pace is setat a casual stroll. Our walk has just started, and I’m wondering whether I should say something first. In my mind, I can hear Max saying that she who speaks first controls the conversation. That’s my brother, though—he’s all about control. I’m not surprised Hercules noticed how direct I can be. With Max as a brother and Xander as my father, I don’t have the luxury of being frivolous with my words. Nor do I have the patience for it.
“What are you thinking?” Hercules says.
I stop staring at the stained cement and conclude that it’s best that he start the conversation. I want to hear what he has to say about Boston first. “I’m thinking about a lot of things. But you mentioned the last time we saw each other,” I say in an effort to pass the baton back to him.
Hercules grunts thoughtfully. “Yeah. About that night… why did you leave?”
I’m surprised he started there. “I don’t know,” I finally say with a sigh. “I was young, embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed about what?”
I look up at him.Is he really going to make me say it?He seems to be observing every minuscule change in my expression.
Hugging myself tightly, I stare at his sexy lips. A strange sensation comes over me. I almost feel as though I’m falling into his mouth. My lips so badly want to mug his. That night we made love, we left the party together. Eden almost didn’t let me go with him, but I assured her that I knew Hercules Lord from high school, so she stopped being a worried friend and let me go. His hired car drove us to his penthouse. We made out in the back seat on the way. I shudder, recalling how Hercules’s cock rubbed me to orgasm several times before we arrived. He was getting off, too, taking himself close to the point of no return and then stopping himself from coming.
Endorphins pumped through our bodies, and our legs were wobbly as we walked into the building. We stared at each other with hungry eyes as we rode up to his penthouse in his private elevator. We were making out feverishly before the doors opened. Then we kissed all the way to Hercules’s bedroom, where we rolled around on his mattress, touching, petting, squeezing, rubbing, and coiling our tongues deeper into each other’s mouths. It was as though we were making up for all those days during our senior year of high school when we purposely kept our distance from each other.
There weren’t many opportunities to fill him in about my virgin status before we did it. My panties were soaked, and I was so scared when he pressed the tip of his enormous cock against the entrance of my sex.Tell him, my brain kept shouting.
