Find Me (The Found Duet #2)(35)
Author: Laurelin Paige

It was his turn to let out a sigh. “When you said differently, you really meant it.”

“I did.” I was crazy for meaning it. He’d asked me to take off my clothes in jest, but if he asked in seriousness, I’d be a goner. We had such intense chemistry. Such a compelling draw, and I was asking him to deny that…why? To find out if we connected elsewhere? What if he wasn’t into finding out?

My legs were trembling as I asked, “Is that still something you might be interested in doing? With me?”

“Yes.” His expression complimented the sincerity in the word. “God, yes. I’m very interested in doing it with you.” A naughty gleam appeared in his eye. “And not doing it. Both. I’m interested in both.”

I blushed. “Just a date first. We know we’re good together when we’re doing it. I need to know what we are when we’re not.”

He scowled, but it was playful. And then he was serious. “Just a date then. Tonight? It is Wednesday.” Our date night.

“But it’s The Fourth.”

His face fell slightly. “You aren’t working, are you? No, you probably already have plans.”

“I do, but—”

He cut me off. “Break them.”

I shivered. JC could be my plus one on Hudson’s fireworks boat trip. Laynie had even said as much. But, even if I didn’t mind sharing him for the night, I really was submissive to him. And when he talked to me like that—commanded me—I couldn’t do anything but comply. “Okay.”

“Excellent.” His smile was a full one this time, and it reached his eyes. “Is seven too early? Six?”

“Six-thirty is perfect.”

He put his hands on my shoulders, and my heart tripped. He ran them down my arms, sending goose bumps across the surface of my skin and tingles shooting beneath. “Then that’s when I’ll be here,” he said.

He leaned in and as much as I hoped that he’d kiss me, I prayed that he wouldn’t, because I knew that if he did, I wouldn’t be able to keep it from turning into something that had to be finished on the other side of my door. And that would make the whole date idea null and void.

So it was a good thing when he only pressed his lips to my forehead and stepped away. A perfectly, awfully miserable compromise.

He walked backward down the hall, his eyes never leaving me. “This is incredibly difficult, you know.”

I leaned my head against the doorframe. “Walking backward?”

“Walking away.”

Damn, could he make me swoon. “It’s hard for me too.”

“I could come back…”

“No. This is good.”

“Matter of opinion.” At the elevator, he hit the call button and said, “Dress casual. And don’t look so good that I’m forced to rip your clothes off.”

I giggled.

“Never mind. It’s impossible. You always look that good.”

He gave an adorable half-wave, then the elevator doors opened and he disappeared inside.

I stood where I was for who knows how long, tracing my fingers across the place his lips had touched my forehead, feeling more giddy than I’d ever remembered feeling. Cherishing his kiss as though it had been on my lips. As if it had been my first. As if it was the only kiss that had ever mattered.

Chapter Nine

“You can’t wear that,” Ben said when I stepped out from behind the screen that sectioned off my bedroom. He was snacking on potato chips in my kitchen—which was strange because I didn’t remember having any junk food—while I got ready for my date.

I’d changed my outfit four times already and had finally settled on skinny jeans paired with a dressy tank. “Why not?” I asked as I crossed the loft to him. I lifted my hair and turned my backside to him. “Can you zip me?”

He set down the bag and wiped his hands on his shorts before finishing what I couldn’t reach on the tank’s rear zipper. “Because it’s July. In New York. You’re going to roast in jeans.”

My entire body sighed. He was right. “Dammit! What the hell am I going to wear then?”

“Shorts. A skirt. The top is nice, though. Or you could do a summer dress thing. What are you going for?”

“I’m going for something that’s not easy to take off.”

He laughed, probably deservedly so. “Is that how you plan to keep him from getting in your panties?”

I shrugged. “Probably not foolproof, but, you know.” I’d already explained to him my reasoning about wanting to hold off on sex, how JC and I needed to get to know each other on a more basic level before deciding whether or not our relationship was worth pursuing. In true brotherly fashion, he’d mocked my plan but was otherwise humoring me.