“Why do we have to talk about that?” he asks, his voice husky with relaxation. “I thought you wanted to hear my question?”
“I do,” I tell him quickly. “But I want to hear this first. You told me you were mad at yourself, that you were letting something get to you. What was it?”
Because I have to know.
He sighs, and then opens his gorgeous eyes.
“You,” he says softly, the word grazing along the edge of my heart. “I’m letting you get to me.”
I suck in my breath and draw back, trying to see more of his face, trying to figure his answer out.
“Why would that piss you off?” I ask him hesitantly. “I’m a girl, you’re a guy, I think it’s an entirely normal thing.”
He closes his eyes again, but his arms are still wrapped around me. Thank God.
“It is. But you’re not in a good place and I guess I was pissed at Serendipity for her bad timing.”
I’m silent because I don’t know what to say, and Dare opens one eye.
“Back home, girls often want to date me because of my step-father’s family, because they have a lot of money. I hate all of it, but I especially hate the part where I never know when someone is sincere and wants to be close to me just because I’m me.”
He pauses for a minute. “You have no idea who I am, but you like me just the same.”
I’m desperately confused now. “And that’s a bad thing?”
He shakes his head and opens his eyes and stares out at the water. “No, it’s just a bad time. You’re not ready for someone like me. You’re not in a good place.”
That sort of pisses me off and I shrug out of his arms. “Not in a good place? My mother just died. I’m hardly balancing on the edge or something. People die, and it sucks but it doesn’t mean that I’m a fragile little flower.”
He levels a gaze at me, a look as black as night. “Be that as it may,” he concedes. “You’re still grieving. And we can’t begin something beautiful when there is still so much ugliness around us.”
I’m stunned and sad and silent as I stare away from him, out toward the opposite side of the boat. So he likes me, but he can’t be with me. What the hell kind of thing is this?
After a minute, he turns my chin with his thumb, making me look at him.
I don’t want to, but then again, I do. Because even when he’s infuriating, he’s beautiful.
“Ask me what my question is,” he instructs me.
I lift my chin.
No.
“Go on,” he urges. “Ask me.”
I want to know. I want to know why he wanted me out here in the middle of the water so he could ask it. I want to know what it is. I want to know what it could possibly be. So I ask.
“What is your question?”
He smiles and I swear it’s brighter than the sun.
“Calla, I want you.”
I suck in my breath at that. I wait and wait and wait for a question, all while his eyes penetrate my soul.
“I wake up in the night wanting you. I dream about you. But right now, you’re tied up in a lot of painful, hard things. I need to make sure that you’re not just drawn to me because you’re confused. I want to make sure that you really want me. I’m willing to be patient and find out. So my question is, can you be patient and wait, too?”
He wants to be with me? That’s all I can think of and never mind that he wants to wait until my mind is clear. Of course I’ll wait.
I start to nod and to ask how long, but he continues.
“Can you wait, no matter what happens in the meantime?”
I pause because what a strange thing to say. I must look as puzzled as I feel because Dare reaches out a finger and touches my lips.
“Don’t ask, because I can’t tell you right now. Everyone has secrets, Calla, even me. But can you wait until we have a fair shot, despite the secrets?”
God, I’m tired of secrets.
But God, I want Dare even more.
“On one condition,” I find myself saying. Dare lifts his head, surprised.
“And that is?”
“I don’t have a lot of experience with guys like you,” I tell him. Or guys, period. “But I want you. You’re all I think about.”
Dare’s lips curve. “I feel the same way.”
“So I don’t know how you can ask me to wait. I only have the summer, Dare. And then I’m leaving for college.” I pause and my heart flutters. “But if it’s important to you, I’ll wait for a little while. A very little while. But only if you do one thing for me.”
He waits, his dark gaze pensive.
“Give me a reason.”
The words are out before I can re-think them and take them back.
Realization clouds his eyes and before I can blink, I’m in his arms again, pulled to his chest and his mouth is ravaging my own. His lips, strong, yet soft, close over mine, pillaging them, bruising them, caressing them.
Kissing him is everything I thought it would be.
I sigh into his mouth and he inhales it as he inhales me. His hands trace the outline of my shoulder-blades, and then skim my back, down to my hips. They feel just as I’d imagined, strong, yet gentle.
He rocks me into him, and my h*ps meet a sudden rigidity, his very apparent desire for me. I’m taken aback by the hardness. But then it fuels the burning I feel, the burning that races along my veins, pumping through my heart. I burn because he’s hard for me.
He wants me.
My tongue twirls around his, before I nip at his lips. He groans as I press tighter against him, wedging myself between his legs, stealing his breath. His hands come up, toward my br**sts, grazing my hardened ni**les with his thumbs. He lingers there, for a moment, turning my points into pebbles as he nuzzles the softness of my neck, his lips blazing a trail.
Finally, he yanks away, his breathing ragged, as though he’s been burned. And I suppose he has. So have I. The chemistry between us is lightning hot.
He holds me at arm’s length as he regains his composure.
Then he looks at me and grins the most devilish grin.
“Did that do the trick?”
His question is light and playful, but the meaning really isn’t.
Because what he’s really asking is… is that enough for now? Is it enough to hold me over? Enough to make me wait?