By Degrees

“Get out of the kitchen and I’ll put it down.”

  He turns to leave and then spins around, leaping to close the distance between us and grab me around the waist. Before I have a chance to whack him away with my dangerous cooking weapon, he throws me up over his shoulder and leaves the kitchen, moving quickly through the apartment.

  “Ahhh! Tarin! What are you doing?!” I struggle, hitting his butt over and over with the flat side of the spatula. It’s having no effect, and my emotions are exploding inside me. Fear, excitement, worry, embarrassment, anger, and confusion are warring for domination over my brain. None of this makes any sense. He flies across the country to play caveman with me? No way is that happening. “Austin! Put me down!” I scream, not realizing what I’ve said until it’s too late.

  Tarin stops in his tracks.

  I freeze in the middle of hitting him with the spatula and my face starts burning red. Flames of humiliation consume me as my body shifts, my feet moving towards the floor.

  He slowly bends over and puts me down. I land in front of him, and as he backs away, I see the hurt I’ve caused him. Eyes that were twinkling with happiness are now just dull. The smile is gone and a frost has moved in.

  Tears come to my eyes and they don’t stop there. Soon they’re on my cheeks and my lip is quivering.

  “You called me Austin,” he says, his voice rough. He’s sad, that much is clear, and I hate that I caused his pain.

  “It was an accident.”

  “I’m not Austin.”

  “I know you’re not.” I can’t keep the trembling away. It’s like the temperature in the room has dropped twenty degrees the way I’m shaking.

  “Are you sure about that?”

  I want to assure him. I want to nod and say absolutely, Yes, I’m sure you’re not him, Tarin. But I’m just not convinced my heart knows what my brain does. And if I know nothing else about myself now, I at least know those two parts of me need to be thinking and working towards the same thing, or my life will always be a mess.

  I let out a long, shaky breath. “I’m sorry, Tarin. I know you’re Tarin, but sometimes my memories of Austin are really near the surface when you’re around. I don’t know why.”

  “Is it because I was there. When he … you know … died?”

  “No. I thought that was the reason, but no.” I shake my head emphatically. I want him to believe me because it’s one hundred percent the truth.

  “What is it then? You wish I was him, don’t you?”

  I grab Tarin’s biceps and squeeze them, desperate to make him understand, or at least not misunderstand. “No! Don’t think that. Please, don’t think that. I don’t wish you were anyone but you.”

  “Would you bring Austin back if you could?”

  I open my mouth to say, Yes, of course … but the words don’t come. I shut my mouth and think about my answer a little longer. Do I wish he was here? Do I want him in my life? If I could have him here right this second, how would it feel?

  “Well?” he prompts me.

  “That’s weird,” I finally say.

  “What’s weird?”

  My hands drop to my sides and I look at the floor, frowning as I review my confusing thoughts. “I was going to say yes, but then … I just couldn’t.” I look up into Tarin’s eyes, the revelation hitting me like a ton of bricks. “It felt like a lie.”

  “Do you think it would have felt like a lie a month ago?”

  It only takes me two seconds to find the answer to this question. I shake my head no.

  “Can I ask you a really rude question?” he says. His energy is picking up again; I can practically feel it. So is mine. Something big is about to happen to us. I wish I knew what it was so I could prepare myself. I so don’t like this flying by the seat of my pants shit.

  “Can I stop you from asking it?” I ask, a smile sneaking out.

  He smiles back. “No. I’m kind of pushy that way.” He puts his hands out between us in a calming gesture. “My question is this … and don’t freak out … just let me explain …” He puts his hands on my shoulders. “Scarlett, will you have sex with me? Like, right now?”

  I step back away from him so quickly, I forget the wall is behind me and bang my back, head, and heels against it. “Sorry, what?” I sputter out. Granny gown! Morning breath! Run!

  “Hear me out. I’m not being a total rapist here … there’s a method to my madness.”

  “Oh, I’ll bet.” I take a side step towards my room, wondering what are the chances that I can get in there where my bathroom and toothpaste are before he catches me. The idea of having sex with him again is not at all distasteful; quite the opposite, in fact. God, how I want to see him naked again. But the idea of him catching a whiff of my morning breath, however? Yeah. Not gonna happen. I had garlic sticks last night. Fucking Jack and his Italian food.

  “No, seriously,” he continues, pressing his case, “see, I was thinking … the last time we were together like that, we’d been drinking and that song Jack wrote was still out there in the air, and you were all wrapped up in the emotions and whatever. I feel like I kind of took advantage of that. Right now, you’re all good, right? Totally sober. It’s not even night time, so you’re not caught up in any music or club atmosphere. And you’ve had almost a month break from me.”

  “So?”

  “So, if you and I can still connect like we did that last time, then we’ll know it was for real.”

  “What was for real?” He’s making no sense at all. I don’t know if he’s talking about sex or us or the price of tea in China at this point.

  His shoulders sag. “Aw, come on, Scar. Don’t play me like that. You know I wasn’t the only one feeling that stuff that night, right?” He reaches out a hand towards me, but when I shrink away as much as possible, he lets it drop back to his side.

  “I don’t know what to say, Tarin. Mostly because you’re confusing the shit out of me right now.”

  He shrugs, his happiness faded out almost to nothing. “The way I see it is you’ve got two choices. Either tell me to stay or tell me to go. If I stay, we’re doing this. We’re going to get naked and get to know each other real well. At least I hope we can do this one thing so we can see if it’s real or not.”

  I can’t believe how stupid he’s being, now that I know what he’s actually saying. I stomp my foot. “Sex isn’t the litmus test for a relationship, Tarin!”

  “No, I know that. But sex like we had? I’ve never had it like that before!” He starts to reach for me but then thinks better of it and just gestures around wildly. “I know someday when I’m with my forever girl, I want the sex to be like that. Like I had with you. I just need to know if it’s you. If you’re the one. Because I already know you have the other things I’ve been looking for, but the chemistry is important.” He smiles at me and shrugs, letting his hands fall to his sides. “What can I say? I like sex.” He’s smiling at me! Argh! Why does he have to do that?!

  I swallow with difficulty. “You need to know if I’m the one, you said.” I’m tapping my toe super fast, unable to keep still I’m so nervous. “The one for what, Tarin?” I’m not playing games; I’m just not sure I understand what he’s saying. I know what I want him to mean, but the way we keep misunderstanding each other, I can’t trust my assumptions anymore. I cannot imagine anything more humiliating than thinking he wants to be in a real relationship with me when all he’s after is a long distance booty call.

  He looks me in the eyes and gives me the smile of a young teen boy, still untouched by fame and not yet disillusioned by the world’s disappointments. “I need to know if you’re my forever girl.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  I SHOULD DO THE MATURE, adult, responsible thing and tell him to go get a hotel room and stay there. I shouldn’t even entertain the idea of sex being an entrance exam for a relationship. I should just lock myself in my room alone until he leaves the apartment. Too bad my sex drive is chauffeuring my life around right now.

  “Fine,
” I say. “On one condition.” My body’s already tingling with anticipation.

  His eyes are practically sparkling. “Name it.”

  “You give me five minutes to get ready before we start.”

  “Two minutes,” he says stepping closer.

  “Three!” I sidestep towards my door. “And you wait out here.”

  “Done.” He looks at his phone. “I just set my timer. Better hurry.” He looks up and winks at me and my heart flips over.

  I literally run down the hallway and into my bedroom, slamming the door shut behind me.

  “Shit, shit,shit!” I dash over to the walk-in closet and want to scream at its empty interior. The only thing in there is a pile of my clothes I haven’t bothered to wash since I’ve arrived. My new line of homeless wear. That’s not going to work. Wearing anything in that pile would be only effective as a repellant.

  I go into the bathroom and squeeze a huge blob of toothpaste onto my toothbrush and work at making my teeth so fresh and shiny that he won’t notice I have nothing sexy to wear. My hair is ridiculously awful, since I slept on it wet. A brush and a few clumps of ripped out knots later, and at least it’s not sticking out in eight different directions anymore.

  I jerk my nightgown over my head and jump in the shower, soaping every crevice on my body, scrubbing my skin until it glows. I’m just shutting off the water when I hear my door shut.

  “Tarin are you in here already?” My heart’s going triple-time.

  “Time’s up. Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

  “Stay in there! I’ll be right out, I promise!” Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod! He’s out there and he wants to have sex! Ahhh!

  “You have thirty seconds before I come in after you.”

  I grab the nearest towel and dry myself off as best I can with shaking hands. I’ve gone cold with the panic and the air conditioning on my wet body, so now I’m covered in goosebumps. My legs immediately grow stubble all over, even though they were just shaved last night. Dammit! Cactus legs!

  Wrapping the towel around me and tucking it in near my armpit, I take one last look at myself in the mirror and then go out into the bedroom. Tarin’s standing by the bed in only his underwear, a pair of black boxer briefs that leave little to the imagination. His tattoos wind around well-defined muscles that are at least a third bigger than the last time I saw them.

  “Whoa,” I say, stopping my tracks. He looks fantastic.

  “Nice, right?” He’s grinning from ear to ear. “Watch this.” He gives me a double bicep pose that has my knees going weak, but when he slowly shifts into the Atlas god position, showing not only those biceps again but triceps, back and leg muscles, I’m a mess.

  “How in the hell did you do that in such a short period of time?” I’m drawn to him, unable to stop moving forward. I have to touch him to see if he’s real. I’m afraid of my emotions, but more afraid of letting him slip away. This seems too good to be true. He came out here to track me down and he wants to give me this? Merry Christmas and happy birthday Scarlett. Today is your lucky day.

  “How did I do it? With hard work and the help of Josh, Charlie, Zach, and Leonard. Oh, and Scott. Man, he’s a pest. But it’s all paying off.” He stands straight and rubs his hands up and down his chest and six-pack abs. “I just needed to get rid of the padding and build up what was already there.” He steps closer so we’re just a foot apart. “You like what you see?”

  “I like what I see, yes.” I’m nodding while my gaze roams all over his body, finally stopping on his face. Everything but his eyes are hard, harsh, tough-looking and dominating. But his eyes … they’re soft and vulnerable, and filled with hope, probably just like mine are.

  “I liked your other pajamas, but these are nicer,” he says, reaching up and hooking a finger in the top of my towel.

  I grab onto it, holding it against my body. “It’s just a towel.” I can’t think of anything sexier to say and I cringe inwardly at my complete inability to play bedroom games.

  “Sometimes less is more, though.” He tugs again, loosening the connection holding the thick material up around me.

  He leans in and puts his lips against mine. I’m expecting him to attack me, but he doesn’t. Just the gentlest kiss and he’s standing away from me again.

  I’m breathless with the attraction I’m feeling towards him, already wet for him down there. I’m so easy it’s not even funny.

  “I missed you, babe,” he says. The words make my heart spasm.

  “Me too.” My voice isn’t working properly.

  “You sure?” he asks, coming closer and putting his hands on my upper arms. He caresses me, moving his palms up and down over my chilled skin. It sends shivers all over my body.

  I nod. “I tried not to, though.”

  He play-frowns. “Why would you do that?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I don’t want to miss you so much.”

  “But you can’t help yourself,” he says smiling, obviously very happy with himself.

  “No, I guess I can’t.” Saying it out loud is almost freeing. I’ve been denying it for so long, it’s a relief to finally stop trying and to give in.

  He leans in and kisses me again, another barely-there pressing of the lips that makes me crazy with what it promises but doesn’t deliver.

  “Take your towel off,” he demands. “I want to see you naked.”

  “You first,” I say, grasping at my last bits of modesty. It’s so much easier for me to admire his body than to show mine. I don’t really have body image issues, but that doesn’t mean I’m comfortable running around naked with a guy who makes me think the things he does. The hard shell I built around myself over the last two years feels like it’ll come right off with my towel, and I’m afraid to let that happen. I don’t do vulnerability well; not since Austin died, anyway.

  “You do it,” he says.

  “Do what?” I ask, as he closes the distance between us. Our bodies are almost touching. We’re so close, and yet, far enough from each other that I want to press forward to be nearer to him. He’s like a magnet and I can’t resist the pull.

  “Take my clothes off.”

  I smile nervously. “You already did almost everything yourself.”

  “But I left the best part for you.” He reaches up a finger and runs it along the edge of the top of my towel, stopping at my cleavage and putting his finger down in it. It makes me think of how he squeezed and sucked my nipples before, and I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning out loud.

  He leans in and kisses my neck, then sucks it gently before standing straight again. “I’m waiting.” He lifts an eyebrow, and I take a step back, my face going red.

  “Fine.” The sexy is off the charts right now. I have to get us naked so we can get going on this thing before I have a stroke from holding back.

  I get down on my knees, lifting the bottom of the towel so I don’t kneel on it. Putting my fingers into the top of his waistband, I slowly peel the stretchy material down, revealing a very swollen cock right in front of my face.

  Once released from its silk prison, it stands out straight and proud, practically begging to be touched and licked. As he steps out of his underwear, I can’t help but reach up and grasp his hard length. It’s hot to the touch and soft like velvet. I run my hand from tip to base and back again, using the softest grip and slowest rhythm possible. My fingers bump over the veins that are bulging out with his need.

  He’s looking down at me, a storm behind his eyes. “That feels so good,” he says quietly. “I love looking down at you and seeing you touch me like that.”

  He’s covered in muscle, but I know I can have him a quivering mess in no time flat, and it emboldens me. I lick him just once and look up for his reaction. His sharp intake of breath tells me all I need to know, but I ask anyway.

  “Do you like that?”

  He laughs without humor. “Are you kidding me? You’re killing me here.”

  I move in for another taste a
nd then another, wrapping my lips around him. I can tell he’s trying to keep still but soon he’s no longer in control. Running my free hand up his muscled thigh, I revel in the strong man before me and the idea that even though I’m the one on my knees, he’s the one that’s at my command. It’s such a rush.

  With a loud moan he backs away from me, pulling his cock from my hand and mouth and putting some distance between us. “You have to stop,” he says, breathing heavily. “I wanted this to be about both of us and you’re about to finish me off.” He runs his fingers through his hair and stares down at his throbbing length. “Holy shit, babe. Where’d you learn how to do that?”

  “Prostitution 101. Took the class in college.” I don’t know how to tell him seriously that he’s teaching me as we go. I’m taking every signal he’s sending and letting it guide me. I’m not that experienced in the bedroom, since Austin was my one and only and he wasn’t really into foreplay.

  “Shut up,” he says, taking a big step towards me and helping me to my feet in a hurry. He takes me on both sides of my face and pulls me to him, pressing his mouth to mine and kissing me with abandon. Our lips open and tongues meet, sparking a fire deep inside me. I need him to feed the flames and then put them out. I want it all.

  I’m pressing against him and it makes my towel slip, but I let it go. The feel of his skin against mine is like a drug and I need some of it soon or I’ll go crazy. The damp terrycloth falls to the floor at our feet and I waste no time making sure every inch of my torso is touching a part of his. He’s hard and warm and hairy on his belly. The sensations that rise up in me are taking over.

  He pushes me sideways and turns me around so my legs are against the bed. Suddenly I’m falling back and he’s on me, both hands on either side of my head as he suspends himself above me. “Scoot back a little,” he orders.

  I comply, loving the feel of the soft, cool sheets on my naked back. I’m glad I didn’t bother making the bed today.

  “Can I kiss you down there?” he asks, leaning down to nuzzle my neck. The shivers make my nipples extra hard and goosebumps sprout up all over me.