Read Online Flying in Shadows (The Black Creek Series, Book 2) by R.T. Wolfe - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: R.T. Wolfe
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noticed a pattern and looked over at
him.
He looked so different and yet the same. A five o'clock shadow, sharp planes along
his jaw. And yet, he still had the same comfortable mannerisms. He rested a wrist
on top of his steering wheel, nodding his head slightly to the beat of the music on
the stereo. His neck was too thick for his tux shirt. He'd unbuttoned it at the top
and let his tie dangle. She looked back out at the streetlight-lit yards and convinced
herself to be content with her almost perfect day.
"That's your sad face," Andy commented.
"Not really." Discomfort filled her thoughts. Heat started at her neck and traveled
over her cheeks. She looked out the window, wishing he'd put the top down and trying
to conceal the blush erupting on her face.
At that Andy remembered what she had said about her mission for the night. Well, shit.
"How is Charcoal doing with heeling?" Distraction.
The red faded. Rose blew out a breath before answering. "Great. As long as there's
not a rabbit nearby. Or a blowing leaf. Or as long as his tail doesn't come into view."
They spoke of lost puppy teeth and chewed shoes.
Charcoal must have been sleeping. The porch light was off and the house was quiet
as they strolled up the walk. He loved the way her lips twitched when she was nervous
and thought about why they were at that moment. Reaching the door, he turned to face
her, watching her mouth as she spoke. Without thinking it through, he moved toward
her in one, small step and inhaled. He smelled peaches.
Lifting her sandwich-sized purse close to her face, Rose fumbled for her keys in the
dark. "Thanks for watching out for me tonight, although I didn't need it. And for
the ride, because I did need it." With keys in hand and shoes in the other, she looked up. Her blue eyes
opened wide and blinked.
He set his hands on her shoulders. Soft and smooth. The twitching from her lips seemed
to travel through her, making the firm muscles in her shoulders flex beneath his hands.
"When did cute turn into beautiful?" he asked.
With lips pressed firmly together, the twitching changed to trembling.
"What the hell are you doing?" Rose all but squeaked.
His eyes traveled back down to her full lips. Decisions. "You're eighteen." He stepped
forward again, close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her skin.
"You're not going in without being kissed on your damned prom night, on your damned
porch."
"Oh." She tightened her lips a bit more, then confessed, "I'm nervous."
"Yes," he answered in basic acknowledgement.
Grinding her teeth, her breath quaked before she threatened, "If you laugh, I swear—"
"You'll kick my ass; I know." When he was close enough to feel the cool breeze from
her breath, he whispered, "Chicken." She closed her eyes and tilted her head. Inviting.
Accepting the invitation, he brushed his lips to hers. Testing. An odd mixture of
curiosity and longing twined together as he waited for a discomfort that didn't come.
Andy sunk into those familiar lips that felt as soft and full as they looked. Waves
of heat flowed from where their mouths mingled and from where his hands rested gently
on her shoulders. It encompassed him. He wondered what the hell he was doing and why oddly he didn't care.
She was just the right amount of firm, the right amount of moist. The feeling of her
shoulders quaking beneath his hands reminded him not to take her in too quickly.
Moving together as if they'd done this always, he carefully parted her lips with his
and gently dove in. She tasted like Rose. Wild, sassy... fire. She tasted like home.
Easy... familiar. Dizzying. He breathed in her scent as their lips and tongues moved
together. Something warm, yet sharp woke in his heart.
Careful not to startle her, he kept his hands on her shoulders as their heads tilted
and their mouths melted into one another. The bare skin of her arms was as soft and
as firm as her lips.
him.
He looked so different and yet the same. A five o'clock shadow, sharp planes along
his jaw. And yet, he still had the same comfortable mannerisms. He rested a wrist
on top of his steering wheel, nodding his head slightly to the beat of the music on
the stereo. His neck was too thick for his tux shirt. He'd unbuttoned it at the top
and let his tie dangle. She looked back out at the streetlight-lit yards and convinced
herself to be content with her almost perfect day.
"That's your sad face," Andy commented.
"Not really." Discomfort filled her thoughts. Heat started at her neck and traveled
over her cheeks. She looked out the window, wishing he'd put the top down and trying
to conceal the blush erupting on her face.
At that Andy remembered what she had said about her mission for the night. Well, shit.
"How is Charcoal doing with heeling?" Distraction.
The red faded. Rose blew out a breath before answering. "Great. As long as there's
not a rabbit nearby. Or a blowing leaf. Or as long as his tail doesn't come into view."
They spoke of lost puppy teeth and chewed shoes.
Charcoal must have been sleeping. The porch light was off and the house was quiet
as they strolled up the walk. He loved the way her lips twitched when she was nervous
and thought about why they were at that moment. Reaching the door, he turned to face
her, watching her mouth as she spoke. Without thinking it through, he moved toward
her in one, small step and inhaled. He smelled peaches.
Lifting her sandwich-sized purse close to her face, Rose fumbled for her keys in the
dark. "Thanks for watching out for me tonight, although I didn't need it. And for
the ride, because I did need it." With keys in hand and shoes in the other, she looked up. Her blue eyes
opened wide and blinked.
He set his hands on her shoulders. Soft and smooth. The twitching from her lips seemed
to travel through her, making the firm muscles in her shoulders flex beneath his hands.
"When did cute turn into beautiful?" he asked.
With lips pressed firmly together, the twitching changed to trembling.
"What the hell are you doing?" Rose all but squeaked.
His eyes traveled back down to her full lips. Decisions. "You're eighteen." He stepped
forward again, close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her skin.
"You're not going in without being kissed on your damned prom night, on your damned
porch."
"Oh." She tightened her lips a bit more, then confessed, "I'm nervous."
"Yes," he answered in basic acknowledgement.
Grinding her teeth, her breath quaked before she threatened, "If you laugh, I swear—"
"You'll kick my ass; I know." When he was close enough to feel the cool breeze from
her breath, he whispered, "Chicken." She closed her eyes and tilted her head. Inviting.
Accepting the invitation, he brushed his lips to hers. Testing. An odd mixture of
curiosity and longing twined together as he waited for a discomfort that didn't come.
Andy sunk into those familiar lips that felt as soft and full as they looked. Waves
of heat flowed from where their mouths mingled and from where his hands rested gently
on her shoulders. It encompassed him. He wondered what the hell he was doing and why oddly he didn't care.
She was just the right amount of firm, the right amount of moist. The feeling of her
shoulders quaking beneath his hands reminded him not to take her in too quickly.
Moving together as if they'd done this always, he carefully parted her lips with his
and gently dove in. She tasted like Rose. Wild, sassy... fire. She tasted like home.
Easy... familiar. Dizzying. He breathed in her scent as their lips and tongues moved
together. Something warm, yet sharp woke in his heart.
Careful not to startle her, he kept his hands on her shoulders as their heads tilted
and their mouths melted into one another. The bare skin of her arms was as soft and
as firm as her lips.
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