Foreman couldn't tell at first if what he was saying was having any effect on Amber at all. She seemed not to be listening at all--holding herself away from him, as if she was depending on not hearing him in order to stay safe. Her fists against his chest were shaking, but Foreman couldn't have said whether that was because of Amber or himself. He was saying everything wrong, he had to be. Maybe what she'd wanted to hear was that he wasn't demanding more than sex, that she didn't have to worry or feel guilty when she ended this. It would explain the casual way she'd treated him in the restaurant bathroom, and even the blithe way she'd assumed, tonight, that they could just start over, as if that didn't meant something. He'd told her then that he didn't want to play. If she was going to discard him without a thought, then she should have done it then, before he'd thrown away his dignity in the restaurant, getting so carried away in public. When she was the first one to look away, her cheeks flushed red, he was sure he was going to lose her. He'd said the wrong thing, wanted the wrong thing. He wasn't in control. He was a fucking follower, trailing after her, after all. She'd shove him back and slam the door behind her, disappearing.
Instead, Amber threw her arms around his shoulders. Foreman heard her threat, but it sounded shaky, as if she was on as uncertain ground as he was. "Just one?" he teased, but his voice was unsteady. Was she trying to tell him that she wanted this? For it to mean more? He took a deep, shuddering breath and closed his eyes, burying his nose in her hair. Her warm scent was already familiar, but muffled by all the layers between them. He wanted to hold her like this, closer, and just forget that either of them had said anything. That's what he'd wanted when he'd asked her back here. To have her away from the damn world, where he didn't have to worry about anyone watching. Only the two of them, without the landslide weight of expectations and doubts. He rubbed Amber's back, massaging as best he could through her coat. Her kiss against his throat was hot, soft, and slow, and Foreman shivered. "This matters," he said. Warmth flowed through him, expanding his chest and easing the tension in his muscles. He turned his head to meet Amber's mouth. Gently, he kissed her, not insisting, but tasting her top lip, and then the bottom, and then the corner of her mouth. Exploring, as if everything depended on his delicacy, on not overstepping his bounds. "I promise."
no subject
Instead, Amber threw her arms around his shoulders. Foreman heard her threat, but it sounded shaky, as if she was on as uncertain ground as he was. "Just one?" he teased, but his voice was unsteady. Was she trying to tell him that she wanted this? For it to mean more? He took a deep, shuddering breath and closed his eyes, burying his nose in her hair. Her warm scent was already familiar, but muffled by all the layers between them. He wanted to hold her like this, closer, and just forget that either of them had said anything. That's what he'd wanted when he'd asked her back here. To have her away from the damn world, where he didn't have to worry about anyone watching. Only the two of them, without the landslide weight of expectations and doubts. He rubbed Amber's back, massaging as best he could through her coat. Her kiss against his throat was hot, soft, and slow, and Foreman shivered. "This matters," he said. Warmth flowed through him, expanding his chest and easing the tension in his muscles. He turned his head to meet Amber's mouth. Gently, he kissed her, not insisting, but tasting her top lip, and then the bottom, and then the corner of her mouth. Exploring, as if everything depended on his delicacy, on not overstepping his bounds. "I promise."