Page 13 of Love and Leashes
“No, it’s not. But come on, your opinion is gonna be less of a suggestion, and more of a command.”
She turns an impish smile my way. “Someone’s gotta keep you and Oliver in line.”
“Yeah, yeah, my dog already likes you more than he does me,” I grumble under my breath, but her peal of laughter is exactly what I was hoping for. God, I missed her all these years.
Dinner was, as predicted, delicious. And fun. I forgot about Kelly’s habit of making up background stories for strangers around her, but over dinner, she had me laughing nonstop as she adopted various voices and created imaginary histories for the other diners. We shared a dessert of chocolate crème brulee that had Kelly making noises that made me wonder if I could get her to make those sounds in the bedroom, too. Because somewhere over our second glass of wine, I realized that’s how I wanted this night to end. With Kelly in my bed. Ideally, naked and underneath me.
But only if she wants that, too. And I’m still not certain she does.
Which is why I keep things light and friendly the entire drive home, only stealing the odd touch when I not so accidentally brush my hand against her leg, or let my fingers linger on her shoulder when I stretch my arm across the back of her seat as I reverse out of the parking spot. I’m pretty damn sure I didn’t imagine the way she leaned into my touch, or the twitch of her lips, but I’m moving slow. Glacial, in fact.
When we get back to her house, I quickly jog around to Kelly’s car door and hold it open for her.
“Such a gentleman,” she murmurs, giving me a soft smile as I close the door behind her. My hand finds the small of her back as we walk up to the front door. Once inside, our coats hung up and shoes kicked off, I deal with Oliver while she puts the kettle on for her usual evening routine of a cup of herbal tea.
“Chamomile tea?” She holds up two packets. “Or peppermint?”
“Chamomile, please.” I walk over to her and place my hands on the counter, framing her in. “You know, there’s one more part of a date we haven’t practiced yet.” My breath catches in my throat. This is it.
Kelly slowly turns in my arms. “Oh yeah? What’s that?” she asks, but the coy look in her eyes belies the innocence of her words.
“The kiss goodnight.” Those three words come out gravelly with desire, and I know she hears it. Thank fuck, I see an answering desire written all over her face.
“You’re right, we should make sure you know how to do that right.”
“Trust me, I know how.”
Our lips crash together, fitting like they were meant for this. Kelly melts into my arms, her hands sliding into the back pocket of my jeans and cupping my ass.Damn. My restraint is slipping as I push one leg between both of hers, hearing her moan as my thigh comes into contact with the apex of her thighs. She starts to grind against me, and I growl her name against her lips.
I don’t want to stop. I want her to lose herself in this kiss, forget any reason or hesitation she might have about us, but I know Kelly. And I know she’s going to need to retreat and think about things for a while, so I force myself to step back.
And when I see the confusion warring with lust in her eyes, I know the right thing to do is to say goodnight and walk away.
But later, lying in bed with Oliver snoring at my feet, I let myself imagine the night ending a little differently.
And fucking hell, do I ever want to makethathappen. Soon.
Chapter nine
Kelly
That kiss was a mistake. Because for the last half hour I’ve been lying in bed, unable to sleep, desperately wondering if Jensen is as good at…other things…as he is at kissing.
I’m willing to bet the answer is yes.
“This is stupid,” I grumble under my breath as I punch my pillow for the tenth time. It’s not like there’s any doubt in my mind that Jensen wanted to take things further tonight. I felt the evidence of that myself.
But he’s still mybest friendand I know that if we do this, if we cross this line, things between us will never be the same. Maybe, just maybe, they’ll be better.
Which is what has me throwing off the covers, cupping my hands over my mouth to do a quick breath check, and then making my way down the hall.
Oliver lifts his head with a huff from the foot of the bed. I snap my fingers, and he slowly uncurls himself, hops off the bed, and ambles over to me. I gently nudge him out of the room and close the door as a gravelly, sleep-filled voice comes from the bed.
“Kelly? What are you doing?”
I take one last deep breath of courage before pivoting on my feet and lifting my tank top up and over my head, revealing all of me except the little boy short style panties I sleep in.
“Come here.” Any trace of sleep is gone from his voice and my body immediately responds to the command. But the room is dark, and I don’t see the shoe on the floor until I stumble and flail toward the bed. Strong arms catch me, and the next second I’m on my back, on pillows that smell like Jensen, and his bare torso is hovering over me, his corded biceps framing my head.
