Page 31 of Keeping It
She shakes her head. “I’ll go first. I live inside my head too much. It keeps me from truly living. I mask it by piloting planes and throwing myself into projects full speed ahead. Because really, how can a woman who flies planes, be scared of everything else?” Caroline says, standing from the sofa. I watch her through narrowed eyes. Her chest rises and falls as she confesses her truths, eyes brimming with tears. “A man like you isn’t scared of anything so it’s hard for me to rationalize what you see in me. My fear is that I’m your project. You’ll fix me and then leave me.” Taking a few steps away from me, she lets her gaze flit to every part of my body.
I stand, towering over her. “My greatest flaw? That’s what you want?”
She shakes her head. “It’s what I need,” she amends.
I look out the large window, setting my hands on my hips. “In a job interview you’d have to say something like, I’m too ambitious, or I am a workaholic. In this instance, I think my flaw is simple,” I say, my voice cracking on the last word. Shrugging, I slip my hands into my pockets, my arm stinging from whatever ointment Caroline smeared on me. She’s rapt, waiting for me to confide in her. “I’m mediocrity’s greatest opponent.”
“Explain,” she whispers, folding her arms across her chest.
I cross to her, until I’m close enough to see the freckles sprinkled across her small, perfect nose. “I have to be perfect. Or whatever my mind deems as perfection. I don’t do halfway. My moral compass is set to one standard. Perfection,” I growl, shaking my head. “If I can’t do something flawlessly, I won’t do it.”
Under her thick lashes, her eyes search my face for reason. She won’t find it, though. I know this flaw is something no one will understand unless they are like me. “That’s a little…intimidating,” Caroline croaks.
I brush her hair back so I can study the planes of her face, the high cheekbones, the bow of her top lip, an errant scar that marks the spot on top of her eyebrow. I lose my breath. “No, you’re intimidating,” I growl, bringing my lips to the tip of her nose. She slides her hands up to rest on my stomach and my body jolts from her touch—everything springing alive with ferocious desire.
“I’m not flawless,” she says.
“You’re my definition of flawless.” I let my hands skirt the small part of her waist. “I’m going to take you into the bedroom now,” I say, my heart hammering out a goddamn symphony.
Biting her bottom lip, she grins. “Can you do that perfectly?”
The feral look in her eyes calls to me, tells to me eat her alive. “Fuck yes, I can.” I scoop her up—her light weight in my arms a reminder how delicate and precious this human is to me.
I lay her down on the light pink bed and take in the sight.
“Come kiss me,” she says.
With one hand on either side of her body, I hold all of my weight up for fear of destroying this crystalized moment. Lowering my head, I rub my lips across hers back and forth a few times before taking her mouth in a kiss. I close my eyes and bask in the feelings. When I open them as I pull away from the kiss, she opens her eyes—a hazy, longing urging to give her more.
The words come before I can stop them. “I’m falling for you, Caroline May.”
Her smile is beatific, something that simultaneously takes my breath away and gives me life. “I’m flying for you, Tahoe Holiday.”
Chapter Twelve
Caroline
The heat seeping from his body warms me to my soul. The way he’s looking at me like I’m some long-lost treasure solidifies everything I’ve been trying to prove to myself. Inside this huge beast of a man is a fragile, hesitant heart. I’m in love with Tahoe so endlessly and deeply, I already know no one else in my entire life will compare. The tenderness in moments he has no control over is intoxicating, his subtlety lacks therefore, it’s all on display. He sets my every nerve ending ablaze. From the roots of my hair to my baby toe on each foot, everything is vibrating with uncontrollable excitement. My stomach tilts and turns merely looking at his chest, his coiled, tight stomach, the mouthwatering square jaw line. This is the first time I’ve felt anything even remotely similar to what everyone tells me love is. Confusing it with lust was a concern, until I realized I was holding myself back—standing in my own way. I perceived him as a jerk in the beginning because that’s what I labeled him. My self-doubt wouldn’t let me believe a man like Tahoe would choose a woman like me. Here we are, though. His body inches away from mine, my pulse echoing inside my ears, and my hands reaching up to his shoulders to pull his body against mine.
I want him. I choose him. “I need to see you naked,” he says, breaking the kiss to push up on his arms, his eyes telling me it truly is aneed. Naked. Naked. Naked. The word ricochets around my mind as the realness of this hits. He senses the panic, shaking his head. “I can hold myself back. I’m not a complete caveman, Caroline. We’re not having sex tonight. Not yet.”
Biting my lip, the fear slips out. “Why not tonight?” I ask, admiring the veins pulsing on his biceps, and then focus my gaze on his.
“We defined this,” he says, sitting back on his knees, pulling me to sit in front of him, “As something we wanted to take slow. Raise your arms,” he says. Lifting them above my head feels strange, but the feral smile on his face tells me this is going to be fun. He slides my dress over my head in one fluid movement. He tosses it on the chair in the corner of the room without taking his eyes off my body. I planned for this, knowing something like this was going to take place tonight. The bra and panties are matching—a cotton candy pink set.
“You’re perfect,” Tahoe rasps, trailing his fingers over my shoulders and down my arms, his gaze following in their wake.
“But not perfect enough to have sex with?”
He sucks in a noisy breath. “That’s what you think? That I don’t want to rip off those tiny panties and fuck you until you can’t walk straight for a week?” He shakes his head, a wide smile on his face. “That’s why I can’t have sex with you tonight, Caroline. I need to ease myself into you. Us. Literally. I want you terribly.”
“Oh,” I say, swallowing hard. “I just assumed you were used to having sex whenever you wanted.”
He slides the bra straps down my arms until my breasts spring free. “I’m not used to having sex with you,” he replies. “Can I kiss you?” His gaze darts up to meet mine. It’s a plea.
I grin, but then his blue eyes dip down to my panties and I understand his meaning. “Yes,” I squeak out. Talk about rounding the bases at warp speed. Tahoe leans over and kisses one nipple and then another. My whole body shudders in pleasure, even my lips tingle. The way he reaches behind my body and unclasps my bra with one hand sends a flood of wetness between my legs. He knows exactly what he’s doing. This is a trait I want in a man. Need in a man. His confidence will rub off on me and I’ll feed off it.
The bulge in the front of his jeans is protruding large and in charge. He’s adjusted it at least half a dozen times since we’ve been in my bedroom. The curiosity is almost too much to bear. “Lay back,” he orders, putting a huge palm on my chest to ease me down.
