Finding Mr. Write (Business of Love #5) - Ali Parker Page 0,37
took a knee on the sofa and lowered myself down for more kisses. I cupped her cheek in one hand and ran the other up her thigh until I reached the waistband of her jeans. Briar trembled as I slipped my index finger under the denim and dragged it across her lower stomach.
I snapped the button of her jeans open.
Briar suckled gently on my bottom lip and untucked my shirt from my pants. Her body rolled beneath me and I unzipped her fly.
We crashed together for more desperate kisses as I slipped a hand into her pants and rubbed her over her panties. She whimpered against my mouth, and her hips worked of their own volition, like she was grinding against my touch.
She jerked my tie loose.
I nudged her panties to the side.
Briar’s eyes fluttered open.
She stared into my soul and I gazed into hers, wondering if this was really happening.
Then she froze and a word fell from her lips.
“Wait.”
I held my breath. Had I done something wrong? Was I pushing for too much? Was she getting cold feet?
I pulled my hand from her pants and sat back, giving her space as she sat up with the heels of both hands pressed to her temples.
She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, Wes.”
“Don’t be sorry. I moved too quickly. I was pushing you to—”
“No.” She shook her head and opened her eyes, but she didn’t look up at me. “You weren’t. I’m just… I need to take things slower. I want this. Believe me. But I’ve made mistakes in the past by going too fast and I don’t want to do that with you.”
“I understand.”
“I also didn’t come to New York to find someone to make me whole. I came to make myself whole. I wasn’t supposed to meet someone like you.”
I wasn’t sure what that meant.
Briar grimaced and peered up at me from beneath her brows. “Does that make even a lick of sense to you?”
“Absolutely.”
If she could tell I was lying, she didn’t show it. Her shoulders slumped with defeat and she raked her fingers through her red hair. It promptly fell back around her shoulders in wild curls.
I put a hand on her knee. “Would you like me to drive you home?”
“Yes please.”
Part of me wished she hadn’t answered so quickly. The night might have been better served if we ended it on one more glass of wine before we went to our own respective bedrooms. Even though sex was off the table, I still wanted to indulge in more time with Briar. I still had questions and curiosities about her. There was so much left unsaid, and with how badly she wanted to get out of here, I couldn’t help but worry that this might be it for us.
She’d be starting her new job tomorrow, too. Was she going to have time for the rich, pompous author she’d just met? Or would she opt instead to spend her time getting her life together and making friends at work?
Did I fit into the building of her foundation here in New York, or was I just extra baggage she’d be better off without?
I kept all my questions and concerns to myself as we made our way to my front door after we both straightened our clothing. I helped her back into her jacket and she wrapped her scarf around her neck. We stepped out into the night which was doubly cooler than it had been when we left Central Park. I shivered briefly and we both made a quick pace to the car.
Neither of us said anything for the first couple of minutes as we headed back to her part of the city.
Then, finally, Briar broke her silence. “Even though the evening ended rather abruptly, I did have a really nice time with you, Wes.”
“I had a good time with you, too.”
She licked her lips and gazed out the passenger window. I could see her face in the reflection of the glass. Her lips were pursed and her brow furrowed. If I was a guessing man, I’d wager she felt conflicted. Perhaps I’d gotten too into my own head and written a narrative for her that wasn’t true. Perhaps she wanted to stay as badly as I wished she would, but she just had to pump the brakes and slow things down for her own sake.
I could understand having her guard up.
“I hope you didn’t feel pressured tonight to do something that felt rushed,” I said.