Gun Games - Faye Kellerman [33]
Gabe laughed as he inched closer to her. “Sorry to disappoint.”
She was talking to him, her speech going a mile a minute. “She’s a little nuts!”
And closer still.
“I keep telling her it’s not a date, that you’re just being nice . . .”
Until he could smell her sweat . . .
“. . . that we just have common interests . . .”
Sweat mixed with her perfume.
“. . . that it’s nothing romantic and it’s just a concert and . . .”
He turned and faced her.
“. . . no big deal . . .”
Eye to eye, he lifted her chin with his index finger and gently brushed his lips against hers. When she didn’t resist, he did it again. Did it a third time, making it last longer, nibbling her juicy lower lip, tasting the salt on her skin. She was sweet, sweaty, soft, and fragrant.
Man oh man!
He sat back in his seat, putting his hands behind his head, closing his eyes, his erection jammed between his leg and his jeans. “I’m sorry, Yasmine, I got distracted.” He turned to face her. “What were you saying?”
She didn’t answer him. Instead, she sat stock-still with sweat pouring off her forehead and hands in her lap, her eyes on her hands. She was still holding her apple. Her mouth was slightly open, and she was breathing rapidly.
He knew he had blindsided her. Not nice, but at least she knew where he stood. Gently, he nudged her arm. She looked up, and he raised his eyebrows. She looked down again.
Maybe he had misread her. Maybe he had wanted to misread her. Even if he had, surely she couldn’t be that freaked out by a couple of chaste pecks on the lips even if it was her “first” kiss.
Slowly she unfolded her hands. The fingers on her right hand spider-walking across her thigh onto his until her hand rested about four inches away from the danger zone.
His brain screamed: higher, baby. Instead he took her hand, brought it to his lips, and then placed their entwined fingers back on his thigh, a comfortable distance from his boner. His body relaxed and so did she.
They rode in silence for a while, every so often exchanging glances while holding hands. Finally, she dropped her apple in her purse and then let out an audible sigh. “I give up!” In a swift motion, she threw her arms around his neck, weaving her fingers in his hair, and mashed her lips against his.
Whoa!
Sweet!
Time passed muy rapido. Hot and sweaty and dizzy with arousal, he kept reminding himself that she was innocent and they were in public. But he couldn’t help himself. They kissed and kissed and kissed, and it took all his willpower to keep his hands from slipping under her sweater. Her mouth was soft and warm, her breath smelled like apples, her perfume was something floral, and her sweat was musty. He was practically swooning. He became so enrapt that he almost missed their stop, jumping up from her embrace at the last moment to pull the cord. The bus lurched and they pitched forward. He felt heat coursing through his face and knew he was beet red. This time, he was breathing hard. “We get off here.”
She nodded and picked up her purse, and they stepped off the bus, avoiding the disapproving looks of some of the older ladies. As soon as the bus pulled away, he threw his arms around her body, lifting her way off the ground until she wrapped her legs around his waist. He carried her for a block or so, the two of them kissing as he walked. Over and over and over until he felt like he was going to explode. He put her back onto her feet. “Oh God,” he told her. “I need to calm down.”
She giggled. He held her hand and they strolled in silence.
“Are you okay?” she asked a minute later.
“No,” he said. “I’m a little light-headed.”
“Want a cookie?”
He grabbed her by the waist and spun her around. “I want you.” He put her down, took her face in his hands, and planted a wet kiss on her mouth. He looked at his watch and his eyes went wide. “God, we’ve got about ten minutes to get across campus.” He took her hand and they started speed-walking.
“Did you buy a ticket for me?”
“Of course I bought