Page 50 of Walk With Me
Both of us are breathing pretty heavily. The second we lock eyes, I forget all about my nerves. Pulling her forward, I take her lips in mine.
We’ve gotten really good at kissing. With her body so close, I start to get excited. My hands travel north of their own volition, and before I know it I’m cupping her tits. And what magnificent tits they are. Holy shit.
“Are you okay?” she whispers.
“This is good. I’m good.”
My answer earns a soft moan as Sloane pushes her tongue into my mouth. The longer we kiss, the more confident I become. I feel her nipples get hard and I want to fist pump the air, because I made that happen.
Sloane pulls back and licks her lips. “I-I think we should maybe stop there for today.”
“Okay.”
The door down the hall opens and slams shut. Jenna. It reminds me that we’re not alone in the house.
Shuffling back a little, Sloane cups my face. “Are you okay with what we did?”
This whole talking about things is nice. “Yeah. That…that was good. Um, was it okay for you?”
Obviously I want to find out if my boob squeezing skills are decent.
“Trust me. I liked it a lot. Would you be okay if I touched you?”
My hands have dropped back to her thighs. “I would, but maybe not right now.”
Can she see how worked up I am?
She smiles at me. “How about we finally have my art lesson then?”
“Okay. We can talk about our second date while you paint.”
And I can take some much-needed time to calm the hell down.
14
Sloane
I’m quickly becoming the queen of putting my foot in my mouth with Eden. Twice I’ve done something to make her uncomfortable. Well, the first time was voicing the reality of our time together. On our first date, no less. Second was coming on way too strong in the locker room this afternoon.
I don’t want to be one of those people who seems to be sex obsessed or pushy. Eden told me she wasn’t ready to jump into bed with me, and I totally support that. The problem is my body’s reaction to her. Take this afternoon, for example. I walked into the locker room with everyintention of getting showered and changed. Then I saw Eden and suddenly turned into a creep.
She was visibly uncomfortable with my behavior, and I felt gross. Still do. Even though we’ve just had a very nice make-out session with some over-the-bra action, I’m worried Eden will think I’m just in this to get laid.
It’s clear I have to take a massive step back, even with flirting. Eden needs to be the one setting the pace. As for me, I intend to step up my dating game. Our first date was nice. The view from the lookout point was spectacular, but it wasn’t the best date ever. Doing a half date, half exercise session kinda took away the shine. Then, as I mentioned before, I opened my mouth and ruined the mood.
We haven’t even had a second date yet, and I’ve already acted like a dog in heat around her. This is not how I hoped our relationship would start. We should be wining and dining each other. Doing all the romantic crap I’ve dreamt about over the past three years.
Time to get my shit in order and show Eden just how serious I am about building something with her.
First, though, I have to get through an art lesson. Not easy when my pulse is hammering through my skin. Eden certainly knows how to get a girl going, even if she didn’t mean to.
I follow her to the garage, which turns out is less suited for vehicles and more for stacks of canvases. White drop cloths cover the entire floor. There are three easels positioned in the space, with a painting on them. Each is very different from the other.
The walls have paint splattered across them as if Eden walked around flicking her soiled brushes. There’s a stool with an apron in front of one of the easels.
“Welcome to my art studio.” Eden beams. She looks so relaxed. “This is where the magic happens.”
Magic is the right word. I love her art. Even though I don’t know a thing about it, I love her creations because they somehow mimic her. It sounds stupid when I say that, but I can see a part of her in each canvas.
