Starting Over

New Meets Old

"Are they not home?" Chris looked down at me questioningly as I led him into my best friend's house. I stopped in the entryway to kick off my sandals and he followed my lead, toeing off his sneakers before following me farther into the house.

I shook my head and led him to the guest room just off the front hall. "They went shopping. So," I opened the guest room door and swept my hand toward the room, "our accommodations, sir." I grinned up at him as he chuckled at me.

I followed him into the room, and the second his suitcase hit the floor at the foot of the bed, his hands were on my waist and my own were lifting to his stubbled cheeks. He dipped his face to meet mine and we both sighed when our lips met. We'd hugged at the airport, him pushing his face into my hair and inhaling deeply and me burying mine in his chest, but that was as far as we would go in a public place. And the 15-minute drive to Ashley and Johnathan's was spent with our fingers intertwined on top of the center console as I navigated the neighborhood streets. But that, that moment in that room with his lips pressed to mine and his thumbs gliding up and down over my ribs, was the first time since I'd picked him up that we'd really touched, in that close, tender, intimate way we both loved so much.

I rose onto my toes, making myself as tall as possible. He still had four inches or so on me, but it had to make things at least a little easier for him. Besides, it was almost an involuntary movement, an unconscious attempt to get as close to him as possible. I slid my left hand down his neck to hook my arm across his shoulders and my right hand worked into his hair. When he maneuvered his bottom lip between both of mine and slid his tongue into my mouth, I closed my hand around the hair at the back of his head and pulled. His hands moved to my hips and dug in, then he jerked me forward until our bodies crashed together. He pushed into the kiss and swept the tip of his tongue across the roof of my mouth before withdrawing it and pulling back less than an inch.

"Don't start something you don't plan to finish," he nearly growled.

I nudged my nose alongside his then closed my eyes. "Who said I don't plan to finish it?" I whispered against his lips before pressing mine against them again, briefly. When I opened my eyes, a small smirk on my lips, he was looking at me incredulously. He turned his head side-to-side to scan the room, his eyes lingering on the open door. "We've got some time." He looked down at me skeptically, one eyebrow quirked. "They're grocery shopping with a six-year-old and a four-year-old. We've got some time."

He didn't say anything, just leaned back down to slant his lips over mine again and trailed his fingers across the waistband of my jeans, working at the button when he got to the front. Once it was open and the zipper had been pushed down, he let his fingers dance across the newly bare skin and play under the hem of my shirt. I tilted my head down, breaking the kiss and bringing my forehead to his chest. I opened my eyes and looked up to watch his drift slowly open, enjoying the way they were slightly glazed over. I pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth but pulled away before he could turn his head for more, unwinding my arm from his shoulders and trailing the tips of my fingers over the back of his neck as I backed away.

I walked purposefully to the door, closing it then turning back to face him. I hooked my thumbs into the tops of my jeans and kept my eyes locked on his as I slid them down my legs. When I stood back up, I let the denim hang from my index finger by a belt loop and leaned back, my back arched so that only my shoulder blades and lace-covered ass made contact with the door. I gave him my best smirk (still not quite as good as his) and tossed the jeans past him onto the bed. He followed them with his eyes then looked back at me. One corner of his mouth tugged upward and his hands came to rest on his hips.

"Your turn." I slipped my hands behind the small of my back and brought my right leg up to rest my foot flat against the door.

His grin was wicked and his eyes never left mine as he slowly and deliberately unbuttoned and unzipped his own jeans then slid his hands across his lower abdomen, his thumbs hooking up under his shirt so that it lifted enough to show off the smooth, taut skin there and the thin trail of dark hair leading down into his boxer briefs. My eyes darted down to watch his palms slide over his hip bones and his long fingers dip inside his waistband until all that was left outside his jeans and underwear were his thumbs. I snapped my eyes back up to his and kept them there as he pushed down both articles of clothing and stepped out of them, leaving him wearing just less than I was. He winked. I may have started the game, but now he was playing along. I shivered, a small tingle running up my spine. I would think it was so small he didn't even notice, but I watched his eyes narrow before he closed the space between us in three steps.