Kiss a Stranger (15 page)

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Authors: R.J. Lewis

BOOK: Kiss a Stranger
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I giggled. “I like that. It’s nice that people still look, you know? A bit of a confidence boost for me.”

             
He pulled my body into his lap and took my face into the palm of his hand. He kissed me lightly and said, “Like I said, you’re gorgeous.”

             
“As long as
you
think so, that’s what matters right now.”

             
He smiled. “Good response.”

             
“Well, next time we’re out like this, I’ll wear some hobo clothes. I’ve got a ton of them.”

             
“Yeah? Well, I would rather you dressing any way that makes you happy. I was only joking. I had a lovely time with you. It’s been some years since I did this.”

             
“See the show?”

             
“That and this,” he pointed between us. “I haven’t felt a connection the way I do with you, Claire. I’m loving it.”

             
I blushed and nodded. “I haven’t either.”

             
He stroked my hair affectionately before I turned my face to his. I kissed him again, prolonging it this time because I loved the taste of his mouth. Kissing him made me feel alive and free. I pressed my body against his, seeking his touch as he gripped me tighter to him. The second our tongues clashed, my skin heated and my core pulsed. I urgently deepened our kiss, wrapping an arm around his neck and pulling him to me.

             
When he started to harden beneath me, he abruptly pulled away. Nothing but silence followed. I watched him with his eyes closed and his head tilted up. I wasn’t even sure he was breathing.

             
“Is everything okay?” I asked him uncertainly.

             
“I’m trying to compose myself,” he answered tightly. “You’re like a switch for me. I’m hard already and we’ve only kissed. We’ll have to get out of here soon so I can take you home and fuck the shit out of you.”

             
I smiled and, with wet lips, kissed up his throat, licking his bobbing Adam’s apple along the way.

             
“You know,” I whispered slyly, “I’ve never had a sexual experience in a park before.”

             
He instantly groaned at my words. “Shit, beauty, you can’t be saying things like that and expect me to just take it.”

             
“I’m not teasing you.”

             
He stared back down at me and studied me closely. I could see the thoughts flashing through his mind before his lips twisted up. “We’ll see,” he said. “Rest your back against me.”

             
Adrenaline instantly shot through my system as I did what I was told, resting my back against his chest. My head was level to his. I felt his growing erection against my tailbone and I swirled my hips just a little, giving him friction. He immediately grabbed at me and forced me to stop.

             
“Very naughty, Claire.”

             
I smiled and turned my head to kiss him on the cheek. Before I could come up with a response, both his hands moved under my cardigan and travelled down my neck, stopping to cup each breast. I arched my back and shut my eyes as he lightly stroked my nipples until they pebbled against the light fabric of my shirt. Tingles bolted to my core as he continued giving them attention, sending more and more down that way.

             
My breathing shifted and my body tensed. Already I felt drenched at the simple erotic touches he was giving me, and it was made all the more exciting knowing he was doing this out in the open.

             
His left hand abandoned my breast and travelled down my stomach as his right continued stroking my nipple. He was painfully slow, grazing his nails along the bottom of my belly right at the waistband of my tights. He breathed lightly into my ear and said, “Do you want me to finger-fuck you in the middle of the park, Claire?”

             
I nodded shamelessly.

             
“Ask me then.”

             
“Please,” I panted, my mouth turning to touch his cheek. “Please, can you fuck me with your hand?”

             
His hand slid under my waistband and traced around my sex. I tried moving my hips to angle him where I needed him, but he bit out, “Don’t move, or I’ll stop entirely.”

             
I stopped and waited for him to continue. The anticipation was killing me, and I was aching. I was drenched by the time he finally circled his fingers over my clit. My body jerked at the sudden touch. I let out a harsh breath as he continued to tease, roaming me lightly before stroking my nub of nerves.

             
“You’re very wet,” he remarked, running his nose along the bad side of my face. “What’s gotten you this turned on? The public place or me?”

             
He brushed against my clit again and I moaned lightly. “Both,” I let out inaudibly.

             
He worked me slowly, half his face pressed against mine before his lips drifted down my skin. He sucked on my neck as he picked up his pace, rubbing me over and over again before sliding between my folds and entering me. I moaned again, feeling like my nerve endings were on fire. I rocked against his fingers, seeking that friction as the pleasure climbed.

             
“If someone walked by right now, would you tell me to stop?” he asked me, licking me feverishly. “Or are you too far fucked to care?”

             
I shook my head. “Don’t stop.”

“Well then, we
have an audience right now. Do you want me to stop?”

             
I kept my eyes shut and shook my head again, uncaring. The idea of being watched thrilled me, but only because I was so turned on. I knew in any other situation I’d have never been so brazen.

             
“They’re watching me fuck you with my hand,” he whispered seductively, “and they’re watching you rock your hips against it. How about you show them the way you look when you come?”

             
His words tipped me over the edge. I moaned loudly, my body clenching, as my orgasm tore through me. The pleasure was toe curling, sparing no part of my body of its intensity.

             
“Fuck,” he whispered, kissing me on the cheek as I slowly came down from it. “You’re terribly sexy, Claire.”

             
Still in my daze, I opened my eyes. When awareness settled in, I startled and looked around. He said I was being watched, and now that I wasn’t in an orgasm-induced haze, I was panicking.

             
He chuckled, reading my mind. “No one’s there, but it was exciting thinking so, right?”

             
“Oh, thank God,” I said on a relieved sigh.

             
“As if I’d let anyone see that side of you.”

             
“You wouldn’t?”

             
“No way. I like that look reserved for my own eyes.”

             
I smiled and turned around to kiss him. “I think it’s your turn now.”

             
He shook his head. “No. That was just for you, beauty. Besides, I want to go home and destroy you in my bed.”

             
Oh, this guy.

             
“Yes, please,” I said, and I was sure that wasn’t going to be the last time I begged him that night.

Chapter Fourteen

I love him

I loved him.

             
I mean, I was pretty sure I loved him the first time I saw him, but insta-love wasn’t a good enough excuse to go around and tell people I loved him. Because imagine the conversation to be had with that one:

“Oh, you love him, do you? That’s wond
erful! How long have you guys been together?”

             
“Um, two weeks?”

             
“…Oh…” Insert awkward looks all around. “Well, that’s…that’s just
wonderful
.” Translation: You’re a fucking idiot.

Yeah, there was no way I’d l
ive that kind of judgment down. Mom would have had a heart attack, and Emily would have laughed her tits off. I couldn’t blame them for their scepticism. It wouldn’t have been the first time I’d made such a declaration of love. In high school I was convinced half a dozen times I was in love, only to be thrown aside when the next bit of fluff came along.

I ke
pt this little secret to myself, and it was the hardest thing I had to do when all I wanted was to blurt it out to anyone within a five kilometre radius.

Especially Ben.

Mostly Ben.

It was inseparability at its finest. The first few weeks consisted of dinners out and sleepovers at his place – the latter due to Mom’s return from her trip. She was a woman on a mission, had put her six weeks’ notice in, and was busy clearing out her
belongings and drilling into me how to look after the house when I was on my own.

Then she got all
perceptive on me.

“You’re glowing,” she remarked the second week she’d been back. “Who is he?”

Either I was walking around with a giddy smile on my face 24/7, or she had some wicked motherly instincts. My guess was both.

“He’s a good guy,” I told her first and foremost.

She hesitated, looking at me with a grim expression on her face. “Are you sure about that?”

“Very.”

“He treats you well?”

“Yes.”

“When can I meet him?”

Never, I hoped.
“Soon, I guess.”

“When do you see him next?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Then I want to meet him tomorrow.”

“Why can’t it wait?”


I want to thank the man that put a smile on my baby’s face tomorrow. He deserves a medal because you haven’t been this happy in… ever, I think.”


Right.”

I scurried away before the waterworks appeared – from both sides, I should add. Being with him made me em
otional. Show me a video of baby kittens and I was a puddle of goo on the floor. Put a romance movie on and I was weeping like a baby. Make me read a book with no happily ever after and I was tearing the pages to bits and pieces and cursing the author’s demise.

What the fuck had gotten into me?

The answer was simple.

L
-
O
-
V
-
E
.

It was sappy, but at the end of the day the sappiest shit was always true.

So knowing Mom would pester me until the end of time, I filled Ben in on the details when he called. “My mom is being weird and asked to see you. She’s being all over-protective. You definitely don’t have to –”


Of course I’ll meet her,” he interrupted. “I’ll swing around tomorrow.”

He showed up the next day, and he was to die for in casual jeans and a white button up.
The meeting was short and sweet. He was calm and happy, not at all effected by meeting a parent of the person he was dating.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Miss Landon,” he said, shaking her hand. “Your daughter’s said a lot about you, particularly of you leaving the state soon.”

“Is she that happy about it?” Mom joked, although I knew she was partially serious.

“I don’t think any child could be happy without their parent,” he replied with an easy smile.

Success!

Mom smiled back. “I couldn’t agree more. You take care of her for me.”

Without a trace of humour in him, he said, “Absolutely.”

They made small chat. Weather, job, blah, blah.
While she’d acted normal to him, I could see her restraining the stunned reaction she was desperate to give. She was both impressed and intrigued.

The next day w
hen I got home in the afternoon she went to my bedroom and laid it to me thick.

“He’s a lot older than you,”
she said, leaning against the doorway.

“Nine
years if we’re going to be exact,” I replied. “Why does it matter? Wasn’t Dad older than you by a lot too?”

There was always the hurt in her eyes at the mention of him. “It doesn’t matter
if
you’re prepared for something serious. He’s well put together, and the way he looked at you was something else. I don’t doubt that he’s genuine with you.”

“You doubt that I am with him?”

She sighed, crossing her arms. “You’re twenty one years old. Do you even know what you want?”

I remembered Ben’s words the first night he was here. “It doesn’t matter what age you are, Mom.
You never really know what you want. It changes.”

“Yes, but you learn about yourself along the way. You come to find yourself before you take big steps.”

“I don’t think people ever really find themselves on their own. I think for every special person you meet, you take something from them with you. I think who you are is a built up of everything you’ve ever experienced. He makes me happy. It’s like seeing parts of me for the first time when I’m with him. That rush, that happiness, that need to be connected – he gives it all to me.”

And it really occurred to me then how far into him I was. I realized the more you fell in love with someone, the more you fell in
love with yourself. You learn to value who you are because you mean the world to that person and you want to see what they see in you.

That’s what he did for me. The scars that were once associated with self-hatred and fear were now a symbol of a time where I was somebody I never wanted to be
again. And looking at them every morning reminded me to keep changing my life for the better.

“I love him,”
I then told her with certainty.

She swallowed
back her emotion, but her eyes went red with unshed tears. “Then you be happy, Claire, and keep doing what you’re doing.”

When the six weeks were up, she gave me a h
eartfelt goodbye. We arranged visits for the next year before I drove her to the airport in what was now my car. I watched her stride away with all her bags and suitcases, but it didn’t hit me that she was really gone until I was home.

I walked through the house and felt its emptiness.
She went chasing her happiness with Kevin, and she left behind a giant hole. It was bittersweet because I knew it would always come to this, and it was for the best.

              I couldn’t reach out to Ben. He was away on business for a couple nights. He did this sometimes, and I kept my nose out of it, trusting his word when he told me before he was looking to get out of whatever he was involved in. When we were together, it was always just about us. We locked the outside world up, ignoring it to focus on each other and the special connection we had.

So because he was away
, I called Emily up. I needed her company. I needed the sadness that came with Mom’s departure to retreat back into the ocean where the waves could carry it away.

             
Emily Jones never failed me, and I loved her to death for being there for me. She cancelled her plans with other friends and came over. We got fat off ice cream and watched trash television until the wee hours of the morning.

             
“Move in with me,” I told her before I fell asleep on the couch next to her.

To my surprise, she yawned and whispered, “Yeah, I
think I will.”

             
It took her a week to bite the bullet. Bit by bit, she brought her life into the house, decorating the guest room into hers. She seemed content about it, but I always spotted a conflicted shadow in her eyes. Again, withdrawing from me something negative in her life that I wished she’d open up to me about.

             
My life was full and my last semester of classes were nearing the end as December approached and the heat of summer flooded in.

The d
ays went on, the weather grew warmer, and I couldn’t be happier.

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