Page 48 of There's No Us Without You
Everything about his rigid posture is telling me to piss off, but I can’t forget the way my body felt pressed up against his. Or the calmness that washed over me the instant our fingers touched when he grabbed the bag from my hand.
“Will?” I say again, this time placing a tentative hand on his forearm.
This seems to jolt him back into the present, his hard muscles flexing under my touch. The air in the car grows thick, weighing heavy on my chest, when he drops his eyes to our connection, then ever so slowly drags them up to meet mine.
My breathing accelerates, the grip I have on his arm tightening with each second we prolong eye contact.
I can’t focus on anything but his lips. The curve of the top one. The colour. What they would taste like. How they’d feel against mine.
Warmth spreads from my groin into my entire body, my pussy now throbbing with the need to be touched by this volatile man. My desire for him is seeping through my pores, those dark-blue eyes of his threatening to turn me into a puddle on his passenger seat.
Time slows down when Will leans closer, the leather of his seat squeaking in protest at the movement.
I brace myself for what’s about to happen.
Our lips are so close.
Our shared breaths making me lightheaded.
Every hair on my body is standing up to bear witness to this moment.
I close my eyes and count down the seconds.
Three.
Two.
One.
Nothing.
No warm breath against my lips. No brush of fingertips against my cheek.
Just cold, stale air.
I open my eyes again, just as Will is slamming the car into drive and pressing his foot to the accelerator. “We better get these groceries home,” he says while pulling out onto the road.
Great. He’s back to his usual emotionless self. The one I have no idea how to deal with, and the one now overwhelming me with the reminder of my stupidity and Kent’s words from earlier.
Men like Emerson—and Will—wouldn’t even look at me, let alone fuck me.
Or . . . kiss me.
Emerson isthe first of the boys to stroll in tonight. “Honey, I’m home,” he says, a huge grin plastered on his face as he drops his sports bag on the floor next to the door and throws his car keys on the hall table. He sniffs the air. “Goddamn, woman. If I knew the house would smell this good, I’d have run a few more red lights.”
“You ran red lights?” I say, taking my focus off the vegetables I’m sautéing to glance over my shoulder as Emerson comes towards me.
He winks. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for surprises.”
As he gets a little closer, it’s then I notice the slight limp in his step. “Are you okay?” I nod to his lower half. “Did you get hurt at training?”
“I’m fine.” With a wave of his hand, he slides up behind me to rest his chin on my shoulder and plucks a piece of broccolini from the pan. “What do we have here?” He shoves the little green tree into his mouth and groans. “Holy fuck. What sort of crack is this?”
“Hey,” I say, attempting to smack him with the spatula and totally failing. “You’ll ruin your appetite.”
I’ve spent the last three hours cleaning, setting the table, and food prepping for tonight. It was all I could do after Will stormed into the house, dropped the grocery bags on the island bench, then mumbled something about fixing a toilet as he stormed back out the front.
So there’s no way I’m letting this hungry hippo eat everything before I even have time to plate it all up.
