Running into Love
Page 42

“I . . . Don’t you think it’s way too soon for that?” I ask, and he searches my face for a long moment.
“If I thought it was, I wouldn’t be bringing it up,” he says, leaning back and touching the side of my face softly with the tips of his fingers. “When is your lease up?”
“In February,” I say quietly as my heart begins to pick up tempo at the idea of living with him.
“We can wait until then to decide if that makes you feel more comfortable.”
“I . . . This is all just very fast.” I shake my head while moving my hand between the two of us.
“Yeah, you’re right, this is all fast, but tell me you’re not happy and that this doesn’t feel right.” I would be lying if I said it didn’t feel right, if I said being with him didn’t make me happy. I’m pretty sure I’m past the falling-in-love part and now just plain ol’ in love with Levi—not that he knows it. We have spent every night together unless he’s working, but even then he always crawls into bed with me at some point during the night, and when we have days off, we’ve spent them together, hanging at home or traipsing around the city going to the movies and out to eat. I’ve even gotten him to go to a couple of museums, even though he said he hates that kind of stuff. But are we ready to live together? That I just don’t know.
“I’m happy, so, so happy, but I really think I would feel better if we waited until my lease is up to make that kind of decision,” I say regretfully, and his eyes soften as he leans closer.
“That’s fine with me, and it’s not going to change anything, so stop tearing at your lip,” he says, pulling down on my chin and forcing me to release my lip. I hadn’t even realized I was chewing on it. “I want to make sure you’re ready, too. I don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for.”
“Are you . . .” I swallow and pull in a breath. “Are you ready to live with me?” He leans in close enough that I can smell the mint and coffee on his breath.
“I’ve been ready, gorgeous, but this isn’t about me being ready. It’s about you feeling secure enough with me that you know you can trust me.”
I already know I can trust him. I also know the thing that is holding me back from jumping into his arms and screaming Yes, yes, yes, I want to live with you. He never once mentioned love, and although I have no doubt that he cares about me, being in love with me is something altogether different. “Eat, baby.” He leans in, kissing me, after the waitress places our food on the table, and I do eat, wondering why I can’t just tell him that I love him.
I smile around the toothbrush in my mouth as I study the blatant happiness in my eyes. After Levi and I got back from breakfast, we spent the rest of the day making love and talking. Spitting the foam in my mouth into the sink, I rinse with water, then wipe my face.
“Babe,” Levi calls from the living room, and I smile again as I open the drawer under the vanity and dig through his stuff for the lip gloss I left there a few weeks ago.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” I yell back, dropping the gloss back into the drawer before going to the bedroom to put on my boots.
“Your sis . . . Holy shit,” he says, and I look up from the boots that I’m zipping up and find him in the doorway staring at me.
“What’s wrong?”
“Where are you going?” he asks, scanning me from the top of my head, down over the black wrap dress I’m wearing, ending on the knee-high black leather boots with pointed toes and three-inch heels on my feet.
“I told you this afternoon, remember? My sisters and I are going to Hank’s showing in SoHo.” I’m not really surprised he doesn’t remember, since I brought it up right after we had sex when we were doing the whole lazy-talk thing I love so much.
“You’re wearing a dress.”
“Yes, well, it’s a fancy showing, so I have to dress up.”
“I’ve never seen you in a dress.”
“That’s because it’s winter, and I normally don’t wear dresses in the winter unless I’m going someplace fancy, hence the showing and the dress.”
“What did you do to your hair?” he asks, wrapping a strand of my straightened hair around his finger.
“I had a little time, so I decided to straighten it,” I explain, then press my hand against his chest when he takes a step closer, so close that I know he’s going to try to make me dizzy. I don’t have time for that, because I can hear my sisters talking in the living room.
“I’m rethinking you going to this thing.”
“What?”
“You look . . . Jesus, you look fucking amazing right now.”
Smiling like a loon, I whisper, “Thanks,” then push against his chest again when he starts to get even closer. “You can’t mess me up or make me dizzy, so you need to stop.” I try to sound firm, but the words come out in a low whimper as his body presses the length of mine and his hand squeezes my ass.
“He’s not allowed to touch you.”
“Who?” I ask, dipping my head to the side as his mouth travels up my neck to my ear.
“That art dude. He’s not allowed to touch you, do you understand?”
“Why would I let him touch me?” I say, trying to comprehend what he’s saying, but my brain is short-circuiting with the way his mouth and tongue are moving along my neck.
“You wouldn’t, but I guarantee he’s going to try,” Levi says; then I feel his lips tug on my neck, and I pull back, stunned.
“Did . . . did you just try to give me a hickey?” I ask in disbelief, holding my neck, and he looks from me to the open bedroom door.
“Fawn’s gonna be a minute,” he growls toward the living room, shutting the door on my sisters, who start to laugh.
“Levi,” I warn, watching him prowl toward me. I walk backward until I have no place left to go and my back is literally against the wall. “Stop,” I plead half-heartedly, watching his eyes drop to his fingers beginning to trail along the front V of my dress, which he brings down along with my bra, baring my breasts to him.
“I’ve never felt the need to possess someone the way I feel the need to own you,” he mutters to me—or to himself—right before his mouth latches on to my breast and he pulls, sucking hard, so hard that I feel it in my core and know I’m going to have his mark on me and be soaking wet before he’s done.
“Levi.” I latch onto his hair. His fingers skate up under my dress, along my inner thigh, slide my panties to the side, and flick over my clit, making my hips jump.
“Wet. Always so damn wet for me,” he says as he runs his nose up my throat, nips my bottom lip, then thrusts his tongue into my mouth as one finger thrusts inside me, sending me to my tiptoes.
“Don’t stop,” I beg as my core starts to throb in beat with his one finger that turns into two. Just like that, with barely a touch from him, I’m already so close to flying over the edge. “Levi,” I mewl in disappointment when his fingers disappear, leaving me on the edge of an orgasm.
“When you come home, I’ll take care of you,” he says, putting his fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean, then taking a step back.
“That’s . . . that . . . that was not nice,” I pant, and he grins a grin I’ve never seen on him before, then ducks his face until we are sharing the same air.
“What’s not nice is knowing my woman looks more beautiful than I’ve ever seen her and she’s going to spend time with another man.”
“I’m not spending time with another man,” I huff as I fix my bra and my dress, completely annoyed with him and his caveman ways. “I’m spending time with my sisters.”
“Is he going to be there?”
“Well, yeah, it’s his showing, but there are going to be lots of men there.” Levi narrows his eyes on me, and then shakes his head as his phone rings.
“Fuck,” he clips, looking at the screen before putting it to his ear. “What’s up?” he asks, and I watch his eyes close briefly. “Finally. All right, I’ll be there,” he says, then hangs up.