Damaged - Forbidden Lovers - Page 25

Tyler Leeds was not my friend. By the way his tongue felt in my mouth, friends was the last thing we’d ever be. Something started in my chest and my throat and just moved out, a sound that wasn’t soft or yielding, but triumphant. When I moaned, I couldn’t be bothered to feel embarrassed about it because he was still kissing me, now gripping my arms to pull me closer.

Then he released me so suddenly I rocked back and had to brace myself with a hand on the grass.

“If I put you in my lap like I was about to, we’re going to get arrested,” he said thickly, getting to his feet and giving me a hand. “Now you have a choice to make. I can walk you back to your car, and we never say a damn word about this. Or you call in sick and come home with me. Just know that I want you, that I’m not the kind of man who is going to be one and done with you and never call back. But I’m not here for games, for teasing like you want me and then backing away and saying you can’t. I’m asking you to say what you want, Layla.”

I was on my feet, his hand still holding mine from where he helped me up. There was so much joy in me right then it felt like I would overflow with light. This man, this good, scarred man who was not wearing a shirt, which was, under normal circumstances, a major distraction, wanted me and said so. He didn’t hint at it and ask if I wanted to come in for a drink. He said it outright and as much as said it would take all day. My stomach dropped at the very idea. I wanted it all. I wanted to see where he lived, wanted to crawl between his sheets and into his arms and make myself a place there, carve out a spot that was secret paradise. That’s what it felt like he was inviting me to.

My concerns, the ones I needed to consider in making such a decision, seemed to have flown away at an inopportune moment. I couldn’t remember a damn thing that could keep me away from Tyler Leeds. I pulled my phone out of the pocket on my leggings and dialed.

“This is Layla. I hate to do this, but I don’t feel well. I won’t be in today. I’ll call in around four to see if there are any messages I need to return.”

I pocketed my phone and held out my hands to him. He took them, held both my hands like it was easy, like this strange, old-fashioned gesture was natural to us. He stepped in closer and embraced me. It wasn’t a hug. It was bigger than that, engulfing me and pressing me against his chest. He dipped his head, leaned his chin on top of my hair and said, “Thank you.”

It had meant something to him for me to choose him. It meant something to me to take that risk. I wanted to say so, but I couldn’t. It was only seven in the morning, the chill burning off the summer morning air as we walked back. The chemistry between us, the tension seemed to pause, to hover just around us and give me some silence now the choice was made.

Tyler didn’t hold my hand. He looped an arm around me, tucked me against his side. It felt so good I wanted to cry, but I managed to keep it quiet. The easy affection, the way he kept me close to him was something I’d never had. I didn’t want to bawl and frighten him off. I had my own issues, but they weren’t something I wanted to share.

“You know,” he said, breaking the tension, “maybe I’m wrong. Maybe they don’t call back because you’re bad in bed.” The light teasing tone made me elbow him.

“Well, if you mean to find out, you’d better mind your manners. I will have you know, Mr. Leeds, that I’ve always believed practice makes perfect. And I like to be the best at everything.”

“But how could you get any practice without a partner?” he said archly, “don’t tell me a vibrator because that isn’t the same as flesh and blood, and you know it.”

I shivered at the words. I wanted his flesh and blood right that damn second. He felt me shiver and stopped to hug me closer with both arms, the caring gesture at odds with his teasing, his suggestion that I was bad in bed. He was trying to defuse the tension the same as I would. Because this felt heavy, intense. Necessary. I wanted this so much I was shaking.

“Are you volunteering to be my coach?” I teased back playfully.

Tags: Natasha L. Black Romance
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