Four years ago I became known as the girl with cancer.
I refuse to cry.
And I refuse to give in.
A relationship with a man is the last thing I’m looking for right now, but one night with Parker changes everything.
He is persistent, and he knows what he wants. Me.
He doesn’t treat me like I’m fragile.
But he doesn’t know, and I’m not ready to tell him.
What if it changes everything?
Tragedy found me when I was seventeen.
Love found me when I was twenty-one.
My name is Aundrea McCall, and this is my journey.
I’m grateful when I reach the door to the ladies room that there isn’t anyone around. I reach for the handle when I hear from behind me, “Not going to use the men’s room again?” I know that sexy voice. It’s the same one as earlier this evening in this same area.
With my heart picking up pace, I turn around smiling sweetly, “No, I’m going to sit down and pee this time.” My smile spreads a little wider and I say a silent thanks to sweet baby Jesus for letting me find my voice this time.
He doesn’t respond. He just steps closer to me with the corner of his lips spreading upward.
I don’t breathe.
I can’t breathe. Not when he is this close.
God he smells amazing. Like a mixture of spice and mint. Maybe a hint of beer too. It’s the type of scent that would awaken a primal desire within any female, and good God do I feel awakened.
“You ran off before I could thank you for the dance earlier.” No, thank you. His voice is a faint whisper and his face is now so close that our noses are almost touching. I glance down at his very attractive red lips just as the corners of his mouth move up into the most beautiful smile. Shit. He knows I’m looking at his lips.
I’m transfixed by him. In this very moment, I would do whatever he said or answer to any name he called; even if it was one of those fluffy names like baby or princess. All I can think about is the desire flowing through my body for those lips to be on mine. I would take him in this hallway. There I said it. Or, did I think it?
I look back at his lips.
I lick my own.
I can’t think about anything but wanting to feel his lips against mine. All thoughts go out the window of me not being able to pick up a man at a bar. I don’t care, but I will say any cheesy pick up line if it means I get to go home with him.
I know he’s watching me. He has to be thinking about my lips too because just then his tongue comes out licking his own. I try to think of something else to do, but nothing comes to mind. I feel him close the distance between us. He puts a finger under my chin for the second time tonight lifting my face so I’m looking right into his eyes. Without taking his eyes off mine he speaks in a quiet, low, raspy whisper, “I’m going to kiss you now.”
Without waiting for my permission, his lips crash down against mine. He takes my top lip into his mouth tugging ever so gently. I let out a soft moan as his tongue lightly traces my lips- tasting me. I can smell the fresh mint and beer off his breath and all I can think about is tasting it. I grab his neck brining him closer -opening my mouth- inviting him in. He groans as I wrap my arms around his neck running my hands through his hair.
Shit, if I die tomorrow, I can die a happy woman knowing this was my last kiss.
His tongue enters my mouth and I meet it with my own. He reaches down to lift me up and I let him. I wrap my legs around his waist just as he slams my back against the wall in the corner of the hallway. There’s a rush of pain that shoots down my legs causing me to cry out. He must take that as a cry of pleasure because he kisses me harder.
I feel my dress rise all the way to my waist exposing myself for anyone that walks by. My head falls back against the wall and he immediately starts kissing down my chin to my neck, then up to my earlobe bringing it into his mouth biting down. “Do you want to get out of here?” He whispers so softly into my ear I almost don’t think I hear him correctly. When he asks me again I just nod in agreement. Afraid if I were to say anything it wouldn’t be yes, and I really want it to be yes.
Setting me down, he runs his hands over my dress laying it back into place, then grabs my hand and starts speed walking away heading towards the red exit sign.
What’s Left of Me. Copyright 2013. Amanda Maxlyn. Unedited and Subject to Change.
I am the mother of two little boys, married to the love of my life, and living in one of the smallest towns in Minnesota. When I’m not chasing or cleaning up after my boys (yes, all three), I can be found writing or snuggled up with my kindle, a glass of wine, and spending time with my fictional friends and family.
Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/AmandaMaxlynAuthor