Things are over with Nate. It was a fling, and Josh is the rebound. The truth of the situation is like a slap in the face. It’s startling, and no matter how much I want the memories with Nate not to matter, they're bittersweet.
Josh pulls me into a little elevator at the back corner of the lobby, up behind the reservation desk. I didn’t see it initially. When the door closes, he clears his throat and offers a nervous grin. “Private elevator.”
“Why is it private?” Before he can answer, the doors open into an opulent room stretching across the entire floor. A bank of windows overlooks the capital building and its domed roof. An enormous amount of pride went into the creation of that building, and any room with such a great view of it—and Ladybird Lake—has to cost a fortune. The other row of windows stretches floor-to-ceiling and faces the other way, showcasing the lazy flow of the river. My jaw is scraping on the floor when Josh presses a finger to my chin and shuts it.
“Gaping isn’t a becoming trait. I mean, I’d be okay with it when I first strip naked, but not now. It’s a room with a view.”
“It’s a football field of a room," I say, ignoring his swagger and verbal bait. "Josh, it’s gorgeous. Can’t you tell?”
He glances around and shrugs. “I like the privacy and the amenities. I don’t really notice the view anymore. My parents have taken us to places like this since we were kids. This location is tame compared to some.” There’s a hollowness to his voice telling me there’s more story there, but I decide not to press. Not right now.
“It’s a beautiful room.”
He glances over at me with those green eyes. “You’re a beautiful woman.” He watches me for a moment, his gaze locked on my face as he asks, “Are you sure about this Kerry? We can hang out, watch TV, and order room service.” There’s more he wants to say, but he shuts his mouth and swallows hard, cutting it off.
I almost take him up on his offer, but I need to know who I’m becoming. I have to know if I’ve fallen for Nate or if I can be like that with anyone. There was a time when I knew myself inside out. Now I’m not even sure what I like anymore or who my real friends are—I suspect one of the best friends I have is standing in front of me.
I walk over to him and throw my arms around his neck. Looking into his eyes, I lean in and press my lips to his. That spark is there, the magnetic pull of physical attraction. It swirls in my belly and shoots into my limbs making me feel excited and light. His kiss is soft and careful, like he’s drained it of passion in his effort to maintain control. He doesn’t trust himself at all, not even with a kiss. My heart sinks when I think about how lonely he must feel. I hold him close, wrapping my arms around his neck, and playing with a spot on the back of his neck with my fingers as the kiss deepens.
The butterflies in my stomach fly away, and I take control of the kiss, pushing it toward passion and away from the slow, careful pace he set when his lips met mine. I sweep my tongue inside his mouth and then pull away, breathless, to nip his bottom lip, before crushing my mouth back to his. Josh’s body tenses against mine, and his spine goes straight as every muscle in his body cords up tight. His hands move lightly, cautiously down my sides and remain in friendly zones until I move them. I shove one hand down to my butt and place the other on my breast.
Josh breaks the kiss and pants hard, his hands barely touching me. “Kerry, I don’t think I can do this.”
I ask because I need to know, “When were you last with someone?” Something tells me it’s been a long time. I sense it in the way he’s conflicted, torn between losing himself in a kiss and trying to retain control.
“Kerry, I—”
I cut him off, softly. Carefully, I touch his face and trail my fingers along his jaw feeling his warm, smooth skin beneath my fingertips. “Josh, I know you’re more experienced than I am, but it feels like it’s been a while. Not because it’s bad, but because you’re hesitating. You have your hands pinned in place, and you're kissing me like I might break. I won’t. Trust yourself. I can make you stop if I have to.”
He’s watching me closely, assessing what I’m saying. Josh swallows hard, like his mouth is dry, and unlocks his rigid jaw. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was terrified right now. When he speaks, his voice is steady, even. “How? I can overpower you.”
“A throat punch, a kick to your groin, and pepper spray in your face. I grew up in a rough neighborhood, so you don’t have to worry about me. I can handle this.”
“Where’s the pepper spray?”
“In my purse.”
“Grab it. Put it where you can reach it and if I can’t stop, promise me you won’t hold back—you have to stop me.” Desperation fills his voice as a tremor works its way into his muscles.
I do as he asks, pulling the little bottle from my purse and setting it on a table by the couch. When I turn back to him, I bluntly ask, “Do you want to be with me?”
He nods and says nothing else. It’s like he has no words, which is really strange for Josh.
Sucking in air, I realize I’m the one who’ll be calling the shots. Josh seems to be fighting the fear that keeps freezing him in place. I want to melt him, to make him se
e he’s not the guy that raped that girl. I don’t know exactly what happened that night, but it’s clear he’s not that man now. I lose my shoes first, stepping out of them as I walk toward Josh. Next, I pull my shirt over my head and toss it to the floor. Then I unbutton my jeans and kick them to the side. I’m wearing one of my new lacy bra and panty sets. It’s light pink with a floral design in the lace. I feel pretty, confident, and completely sexy. My body warms as I approach him. I consider stripping, but that would be too fast for him.
When I stop in front of Josh, I tug at his shirt and pull it from his body before I splay my hands on his toned chest. He remains perfectly still until I lean in and press my lips to his. I kiss him hard and push him back toward the couch until we fall on the cushions with me on top. His body feels good beneath mine, warm and hard. His hands touch my skin hesitantly at first, but then more firmly. His fingers drift from my waist and then up to my breasts. He cups me, holding me gently. Not too long ago, that would have satisfied me, but not now. I want rough passion. I want to forget myself completely when I’m with him. I begin to wriggle my bottom against his hips and feel the pressure of his hard package beneath his jeans.
Josh’s hands tighten on my body as he moans into my mouth. As he relaxes, the kiss changes. One of his hands lifts and finds my face. He sweeps his fingers along my cheek, tangles them in my hair, and pulls my neck down hard, holding me in place.
My mind drifts toward thoughts of Nate’s lips to the way his hands feel against my skin. Everything Josh does is compared to Nate. I can’t help it. This isn’t the same, and I desperately need it to be more. I slip my thighs apart, straddle his hips, and sit up. I reach behind my back and unclasp my bra, freeing my aching breasts. They want to be touched. They long to be held and kissed. Josh’s green gaze lingers on my naked chest as his hands slowly rise from my hips and up to my chest. When his hands cover me, he squeezes me possessively. I tip my head back and breathe in slowly, enjoying the sensation and trying to banish thoughts of Nate, of the way he touched me there, of how it was different, better.
I need to lose myself in Josh. I wonder if I can. Looking down at him, I reach for his button and then lower his zipper. I move off of him and pull his jeans off, tossing them aside before climbing back onto his lap. He’s still wearing boxers, but there’s nothing to keep us apart now. If he wants me, he can have me.
The afternoon light feels warm and wonderful on my skin. Josh watches the way the sunlight falls on me, and when I lean down to kiss him, things shift. The control he possessed before fizzles as the kiss becomes hotter. His hands rove my body, one slipping under my panties to cup my ass as I grind against him.
We stay like that until Josh is lost in the kisses, in the heat of the moment. I keep waiting for that to come, but it doesn’t. My mind is sabotaging me. Josh’s lips are nice, but they’re not Nate's. They’re not as full as Nate’s, and they don’t move the same way. Josh’s body is firm, and his muscles feel powerful beneath mine. I like the way he moves against me, and I’m turned on, I feel it—but there’s something wistful lingering at the back of my mind. There’s something else I really want that isn’t here.