Read Online Bound by Tradition by Roxy Harte - Free Book Online Page A

Make them feel like they’re the most important person in the world?”
    He met my gaze. “You are the most important person in the world—for me, in this moment—because you’re here with me.”
    I wanted to challenge what he was saying, ask him if he meant that in the next moment he’d feel that way about whichever girl he had in his rope, but I didn’t because I knew I wouldn’t like his answer. His focus was pure and moment driven. Wasn’t that the true heart of Zen?
    “I actually have the entire night free, if you end up with more than an hour.”
    I looked at him with longing, not because he was so damn hot, although he was, smolderingly so, but because he had an entire evening free. “What’s that like?”
    He looked at me, still smiling, but as our gazes connected his smile faded. “You really don’t know, do you?”
    I shook my head. “I’m only sitting here with you now because I ditched class. After this I have one more class, and then I work for four hours. After that I’ll be at the dojo from six to ten, or midnight, knowing my dad and because of my poor showing over the weekend.”
    “When do you study?”
    “Sometimes I have to choose. Sleep? Study?”
    His eyes filled with sadness as he stroked my cheek, but then he shuttered away the dark look and forced a smile, and strangely, even though I barely knew him, I was beginning to know the difference in his smiles, and the one he was giving me in that moment was forced, a little overexuberant. “What do you want to do with your free hour?”
    I took in a deep breath. I hadn’t really thought beyond the moment where I actually got to see him again. “Apologizing for being a jerk would be a good start.”
    He shook his head. “No apology required.”
    “In that case, I don’t care what we do as long as it involves being with you.”
    He nodded and looked through the windshield, maybe for inspiration. The only options close by were fast-food venues and a mall, and neither seemed appealing.
    I touched his arm, drawing his attention back to me. “And kissing. You are required to kiss me.”
    He waggled his eyebrows. “Can I do more than kissing?”
    I looked skeptical. “It’s broad daylight, but if you can manage more than kissing without an audience…go for it.”
    He laughed and revved his engine before pulling out onto the road. He said confidently, “No problem.”
    We drove around the block, and he parked behind one of the fast-food joints. He pivoted to look at me. “How brave are you?”
    I looked around the parking lot and realized we weren’t completely alone. Turning back to him, I was sure he wasn’t serious, at least until I got caught in his smoldering gaze. I whispered, “I’m not very brave. If we get caught—”
    He leaned forward, kissing me softly, whispering against my lips, “We won’t get caught,” as he slid his hand under my T-shirt to tweak my nipple through the fabric of my bra.
    His lips teased mine, and he pinched a little harder, making me squirm in my seat and moan.
    He pulled away only enough to meet my gaze. “The secret is to stay very quiet and pretend nothing is happening.”
    His hand was still under my shirt, his fingers still rolling my nipple. My hips rocked against the seat cushion. He might only be playing with my nipples, but I felt it all the way through my vagina. His other hand slid up my thigh. “You wore a skirt. That’s lucky.”
    I hadn’t really thought about it, other than knowing I’d never see him again and thinking, if I ever did, I’d want him to see me in a skirt. I wanted him to see my legs, and I’d worn the white cotton skirt because it made my tan legs look fabulous.
    His hand disappeared under the edge of flimsy cotton, and his fingers played with the lacy edge of my panties, teasing under, coming back out. In, out, in, out. He wasn’t even touching my genitals, but still I moaned and bit my lip.
    Embarrassed, I hid my face against his shoulder.
    “Keep your