After the Kiss Page 30
Instead he stood up and cupped a hand to her cheek. “You what?”
Julie fixed her gaze on his nose, unable to meet his eyes. She wasn’t sure what she’d meant to say. Wasn’t sure what she should say.
He tipped her chin up, which allowed him to rain soft kisses over every inch of her face.
Julie’s eyes fluttered closed in resignation. Caring about this man was no longer a choice. It simply was.
Finally his lips came down on hers, warm and hard and achingly familiar. She clutched at the front of his shirt, trying to lose herself in the kiss, but he held back, keeping it light and easy. Making it last. His palms continued to cup her face as his lips brushed and plucked, and when the tip of his tongue finally touched hers, they both groaned.
Julie’s hands slid toward the hem of his shirt, wanting to tug it up and off, but he pressed closer against her, crushing her hands between them and continuing to kiss her senseless. When his lips finally traveled down her neck to lick at her collarbone, she was ready to come apart in his hands and they hadn’t even gotten their clothes off.
“More,” she pleaded. “Please.”
He dragged his hands down her front, his palms snagging on her hardened ni**les as he paused there for a moment before continuing his slow torture. He stroked up and down over her T-shirt until she was writhing against him.
Finally, finally he slid his hands under her shirt, finding her skin warm and damp.
“I love the way you feel,” he whispered as the shirt crept up inch by inch.
He stopped when the shirt was just beneath her br**sts, giving her a teasing wink before he began journeying the opposite way down her body, leaving her aching for more.
He hooked his fingers into the waist of her pajama pants, pulling down slowly until he’d exposed her panties. His eyes flew up to hers in surprise. “White cotton?”
She blushed. She’d gotten up in the middle of the night to put them on. “I don’t like to sleep in thongs.”
No man had ever seen her in her granny panties, and she could tell he knew that. Could tell he liked that.
“Julie,” he whispered, pressing a reverent kiss to her navel and then pulling her back to the bed.
But Julie wasn’t in the mood for playing. She dug her fingers into his hair and pulled him upward, pulling his face down to hers.
“Now.”
He moved quickly, shoving his jeans down to his hips to free the essentials. Two fingers scraped her panties to the side, and he groaned as he felt her wetness.
And when he slid into her with aching slowness, she cried out.
“Mitchell.” Her whole heart was in the word, saying the words she couldn’t.
“I know,” he said roughly against her neck. “I know.”
He continued to press inside her with slow, rocking motions, giving her body a chance to adjust to his.
“More. I want more,” she said, her nails clawing helplessly at his shoulders.
He moved in earnest then, making love to her with slow, sure strokes. His hands slid to her inner thighs, spreading them wider so that each thrust rubbed there, and Julie came apart in his arms, in a vicious, ripping orgasm that went on forever.
When her cries had come down to soft whimpers, Mitchell’s eyes found hers and she saw the same destroyed look on his face as he found his own relief, coming inside her with a harsh cry before collapsing gracelessly on top of her.
She ran her fingers through his damp hair as she dropped kisses onto his shoulder.
It had been the deepest, most important sex of her life.
So why couldn’t she shake the feeling that it was also goodbye?
* * *
When Julie opened her eyes again, the patch of sunlight had moved on, and her legs were completely asleep.
“Mitchell,” she groaned, shoving at his weight. “We fell asleep.”
He grunted and rolled off her, and Julie tentatively wiggled her toes until feeling returned.
A sharp buzzing sound had them both sitting upright, blinking off their sex-induced haze. Julie groaned. Who the heck was at the front door?
She looked around for her pajama pants, which Mitchell handed over. “Is that your new boyfriend coming to collect on the booty?”
“I don’t think I have any booty left,” Julie said, giving him a swift kiss before she padded out of the bedroom to the intercom.
“Hello?”
“Jules, it’s us. We need to see you.”
Julie frowned at the strained note in Grace’s voice. We could only mean she and Riley, and Riley lived in Brooklyn. If the two of them were at Julie’s doorstep before nine on a Saturday, it wasn’t good news.
She shot a nervous look at the bedroom, where naked Mitchell had resumed his sprawled position. She fixed a smile on her face and grabbed the doorknob. “It’s the girls. I’m going to close this, okay? To protect your virtue.”
“’Kay,” he muttered sleepily.
She opened her front door to Riley and Grace, her panic increasing as she saw that this was definitely no surprise brunch call. Riley was wearing her glasses, which was practically unheard of outside the walls of her apartment, and Grace was wearing ratty sweatpants and a shirt that looked like it had probably come from Greg’s hamper.
“What’s going on?” she whispered, ushering them in.
“Why are we whispering?” Riley whispered back.
Grace gaped at Julie’s kitchen table, which clearly showed the remnants of breakfast for two.
“You slept with him? You just met the guy!”
It took Julie a few seconds to realize that Grace was talking about Keith. “No, not him,” Julie said with an impatient wave. “Mitchell.”
She glanced meaningfully toward the closed bedroom door, and her friends’ eyes went wide in matching horror.
“Mitchell’s here?”
“Yes, he’s here,” Julie said with strained patience. “What exactly is going on?”
Grace took a deep breath. “We need to talk. And he needs to leave.” She gave a sideways nod toward Julie’s bedroom.
“I can’t just kick him out. He brought me breakfast.”
And held me while I cried. And then made love to me so gently I wanted to cry all over again.
“Doesn’t look like you finished it,” Riley said, poking at a barely touched bagel.
“We got distracted.”
Grace squinted at her. “Are you blushing?”
Julie’s bedroom door swung open, and Mitchell emerged looking every bit the man on his way to a round of preppy golf, and not at all like a man who’d just been passed out with his bare ass hanging out of his jeans.
“Mitchell! Hi!” Grace’s voice could have broken glass.
Riley’s eyes were wide with alarm, but she quickly fixed a smile on her face and ran a hand over her knotted hair.
“Hello, ladies,” Mitchell said. “I was just on my way out.”
Grace looked at his untouched breakfast and bit her lip. Julie knew that her manners were warring with whatever doomsday proclamation she’d come to make.
“We need some girl talk,” Grace finally said. “Sorry to chase you out.”
Crap. Julie had been sure that Grace’s manners would win out and she’d insist that Mitchell finish his breakfast. If she was chasing him out, the situation was dire indeed.
He smiled in understanding, and grabbed his keys and wallet from the table before bending to give Julie a swift kiss on the cheek. “I’ll call you.”
“Okay,” she said, forcing a smile.
He turned to go, and impulse had her grabbing frantically at his sleeve. He glanced at her curiously. “What’s up?”
Her eyes skimmed over his comforting face, wishing she could burrow into him and stave off whatever storm was about to hit. He smiled softly, his eyes glowing warm, and she knew, she knew, that it was the last time she’d see that expression.
“Nothing,” she said, her voice cracking. “Have a good day.”
Tell him you love him.
Instead she let him go.
Julie stood for a long moment staring at the closed door before she finally turned to face her friends.
“It’s bad?” Julie asked, not knowing what they were dealing with but bracing herself all the same.