We spend the next several minutes just talking. Mesh doesn’t say much with his mouth, as usual, but his eyes do all the talking. He watches Zulakya’s every move; it’s quite unsettling and intriguing at the same time. Like he’s ready to come to her rescue once again.
Eventually, we settle down in front of the TV while Gage heads to a stack of DVDs and flips through, then glances in our direction. “Action or romance? I’m down for whatever.” He wiggles his eyebrows and I smile.
“Just choose before this becomes a big debate,” MJ says, her eyes moving from Mesh to Ivan and Levi, who’re talking in low voices in the kitchen.
“Action it is,” Gage says.
“I’m ordering pizza,” Levi announces. After taking our orders, he pulls out his phone from his sweats pocket and gives us his back as he orders pizza. Five minutes later, he ends the call and excuses himself to grab money from upstairs.
I follow him with my gaze, enjoying the way the sweats hug his hips.
“Go,” MJ whispers with a wink, gesturing toward the stairs. I bite my bottom lip, the thought of surprising him becoming more appealing by the second. He hasn’t made a move yet. Maybe we’re both holding back, afraid to take the next step. Am I ready for this? Only one way to find out.
Grabbing my purse, I face Zulakya. “You okay?”
She nods and smiles. “I’m good, I swear.”
From the recliner, Mesh’s gaze darts to Zulakya, an inscrutable look on his face, before dropping back to his phone. For some reason, she seems to have responded to Mesh well right off the bat, so I know she feels safe with him.
Levi’s back is to me as he rummages through a drawer at his desk in his room. Quietly setting down my purse, I tiptoe toward him and wrap my arms around his waist, my front to his back, and kiss his back. He drops his wallet on the table and turns in my arms to face me.
“You look beautiful.” His fingers thread through my hair before he leans down to inhale. “I love the scent of vanilla in your hair.”
“Thank you.” I lift a hand and drag it through my tresses self-consciously. “It’s the conditioner I use.”
He leans back, and asks, “Why the hair color change?”
I shrug. “I figured it was time to go back to being me.”
His brows crinkle. “You’ve always been you. Changing your hair color didn’t change that.”
“I agree with you, oh wise one,” I tease.
“Smartass,” he says with a laugh.
My mind goes back to Sol calling me the same thing last summer. My stupid heart thuds a little louder, my pulse faster. I sigh as I gather the all-consuming feeling back into the little box with his name on it, and snap the lid shut, then exhale through my mouth.
His fingers slide down my waist and under my shirt, lightly brushing either side of my body. Caught off guard, I jerk away from his touch with a laugh.
“You ticklish?” he asks, grabbing my belt loop and pulling me closer before commencing tickle-torture. Before I know it, I’m yell-laughing for him to stop and trying to get away from his hands. My knees buckle and I land on the floor, on my back. Levi’s straddling me, and we’re both laughing.
“I love it when you laugh like this,” he murmurs, eyes still playful, pulling his hands from under my shirt and planting them on either side of my head. “So goddamn sexy.”
The air around us shifts, crackling with awareness. The way he’s looking at me knocks air from my lungs and causes my toes to curl in response.
“Thank you.” I quickly hook my legs around his at the ankles, grab his shoulders and roll him flat on his back. He lands with an ‘omph’, then stares at me with wide eyes. “Okay, so that’s the sexiest move ever.”
“I have more where that came from,” I say, unhooking my legs from his and planting my hands on either side of his head. I wet my lips, suddenly nervous about where this is going.
“Are you sure you want this?” he asks, obviously sensing the change in me. “Once we do this, things will change.”
“I know,” I mutter.
“We can wait until you’re ready,” he says.
“Are you ready?” I ask, watching his face intently.
He sighs. “I think so. I mean, this is me not overanalyzing everything. I’m moving on with my life and not letting my past hold me back.”
I mull over his words. Is it really that easy? Am I letting my past hold me back?
Leaning down, I keep my gaze locked on his and take a deep breath and clear my thoughts. I kiss him softly at first. His chest rises and falls with fast breaths mimicking mine. His eyes darken as they watch me, as if trying to read if I’m really ready. Whatever he sees in my face has him blowing out air through his mouth.
“Hold on a sec,” he says, getting on his feet and taking me with him. He shuffles to the door and locks it, the sound echoing in the quiet room, then walks us back to his bed.
“Wait. I thought you were getting money to pay for the pizza?”
“Don’t worry. It’ll be taken care off. They know we are, um, busy. So no one will interrupt us.”
My cheeks heat up. “Oh.”
He sets me down, then with shaking fingers, he pulls my shirt up and urges my arms up. He tosses it on the floor before he does the same to my bra. Then he makes quick work of taking off my pants too.
“Oh, my God,” he rasps, brushing the tips of his fingers against my sensitive nipples as if he’s scared of touching me. “This. . .seeing you like this. . .I’ve imagined how you’d look and feel. You’re a vision, Grace.”
My back arches at his praise. I want to touch him too. I want to light him on fire like he’s done to me so we can burn, burn, burn. Pushing his hands away, I tug his shirt up, up, up over his head and toss it next to my clothes. I hook my fingers on the band of his sweats, and say, “Lift up.” The pants join the small mountain of clothes and I focus on him, my heart racing fast now.
“You okay?” he asks, concern in his eyes.
I clear my throat and smile, albeit anxiously as the confidence I was feeling before dissipates. “Um, this might sound stupid . . .”
He cups my face in his hands and looks me in the eye. “Just talk to me, Miller.”
“I hope I won’t disappoint you. I don’t have a lot of expe—”
I stop talking when his hands drop from my face and grasp mine, and slide them down to rest on his thighs. Slowly, he inches them closer and covers his erection. We both gasp at the contact. “That doesn’t feel like disappointment, does it?”
I shake my head, need flowing through my veins. Need to see fire light up in his eyes. Need to feel his hands on me as they roam my body. I miss it. Miss that feeling of being adored with firm touches, soft touches.
Before I can chicken out, I drag the tip of my fingers along his length. He sucks in a sharp breath and curses, then groans.
“Fuck, fuck. That feels amazing—” I wrap my fingers around him and move my hand up and down. His hips buck off the bed, and his body shaking. “You’re going to be the death of me.” Perspiration covers his forehead and his lips are parted.
At this point, I’m just winging it, watching him for clues of what he likes as my hand works him. He must realize I have no idea what I’m really doing because he reaches down and wraps his hand on top of mine to show me how he likes it, then he grips the bed sheets as I work him.