Okay...here we go, guys. A sneak peek from the novella Behind the Pitch. This one is told from Declans point of view and happens prior to the epilogue in the book. (There trip to the Smokey Mountains to watch the fireflies swarm). Hope you enjoy it. Behind the Pitch - Library Basement: She made for the window just above a row of shelves, like a bee closing in on a succulent flower. “No, McShane, don’t you dare.” Books fell everywhere as this mad woman climbed the shelves, spilling them onto the already untidy floor. I was right behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist, fighting against her as she struggled. “Calm yourself,” I said. I tried to keep my voice level, to shush her and not let her see how helpless I felt. She fought me, wiggled against my body as I struggled with her and it did nothing but muddle my mind, fill it with ridiculous images of her naked against me, of my mouth on her pale, creamy skin. Jaysus, this wasn’t good. I breathed out through my nose and thought of unpleasant things—Morrison mouthing off, toddlers with snotty noses…American football. It helped, somewhat, I was at least less anxious, but she was still shaking, still moving against me, turning around and slapping my chest. I had a good, firm hold on her, but I hated how scared she looked. I hated how her eyes were squinted in anger, or was that fear? I couldn’t really tell which. My mind buzzed trying to figure out what I could do to keep her from hurting herself, but then those plump, pink lips quivered, and I saw no other option. I told myself it was for her benefit, that desperate times needed desperate measures, so I pulled her hard against me and slammed my mouth over hers. Dear God. Sweet Lord. She tasted fecking glorious. She made little noises against my mouth, small sounds that hummed through my body. I kept my tongue behind my closed lips, but only just managed. I wanted so badly to pin her to the floor. I wanted to devour her mouth, lick her neck, nibble on the small, soft parts of her tender skin. I felt like a complete wanker. I had kissed this girl to calm her but now my body was betraying me, had me acting like I was just hitting puberty. But just then, miraculously, McShane did something that completely unhinged me: she grabbed my collar, gripped it tight and I loved how aggressive she became. I couldn’t help the pathetic moan that lifted from my throat or the jackhammer rhythm that overtook my heart. Jaysus, she was lovely; all curves and soft, soft skin, smelling like pure heaven, and all I wanted to do at that moment was to deepen the kiss, to taste more of her. I couldn’t help my hands smoothing over her back, her neck, when I felt her body calming, the frantic shudders leaving her completely, as she melted into me. I nearly whined when she opened her mouth, when she flicked her tongue past my lips. How my heart didn’t fly from my chest, I’ll never know. I reacted, gave back to her what she offered, slowly, but tenderly, forcing myself to take it easy, to not get caught up and maybe have her get frantic again. I broke away from her, eager for a breath, for just a second to clear my mind. I wanted to speak, but words became twisted in my throat. I could only stare at her, marvel at the freckles over her cheeks, watch the drop of her eyelids as though she was high, as though I’d somehow rendered her incapable of clear thought. She was fecking gorgeous and she tasted so damn good. “Not exactly the first kiss I was expecting,” I finally managed. I knew what hid behind my small confession, but just then, I didn’t bleeding care. She could think me weak, that I was fecking putty in her hands. I bleeding well was. “That…that was the second.” “Me molesting you while pie-eyed doesn’t count.” I tried not to wince thinking about that night on the pitch. God, if I’d only held off, acted like I had any sense a’tall, maybe I could have had this sooner, and more of it. I released a breath, sure that another apology was weighted in my throat. “Just now, that was really the first.” I paused, watched her face to see if she would push me away, if there was any resistance at all to how close I held her. If she had any clue of just how fecking much I wanted to kiss her again. When she didn’t pull away, I went for it. “And here’s another.” McShane became pliant, and it was so bleeding brilliant. I liked the soft curves of her body, how she molded to me, how I felt every inch of her skin working over me, against me. I was rock fecking hard. Unless you’re a bloke, you’ve no clue what it’s like when you’re kissing a gorgeous girl and your body betrays you, wants you to forego common logic and respond to the primal, base instincts fueling your body. It’s difficult. It’s frustrating, but there is something that happens when a man is aroused. We forget our good sense. We forget that we should do anything but grab, pull, thrust, want. It took all my control to not revert to Primal Declan when I kissed McShane. Really, I wanted her naked beneath me. Or on top of me. I wasn’t fussed and didn’t have a preference. I wanted to feel the weight of her glorious tits in my hands, my thumbs running over her (I’m guessin) perfect, pink nipples. Primal Declan won. I slipped my tongue into her waiting mouth, loving the small, barely noticeable sounds she made. My hands moved over her again and, with the last shreds of rational thought, was able to gently touch and not grope and tug like I so wanted to do. My mind warred between taking things further, kissing her more deeply, grabbing her arse and grinding myself against her, but before I could make any decisions, her cell phone chirped from my pocket and she jerked her body away from me, the moment broken. She felt over me, dug into my pocket to retrieve her phone which I’d kept on me during her melt down, her fingers coming perilously close to my throbbing knob. She smirked as I watched her speaking to Sayo with those plump pink lips moving in her speech; the quick smile, the soft features as she spoke. The smooth sound of her chuckle moved in my ear like a song. I never wanted to stop hearing it. In fact, I wanted to hear it more often, to feel more of her, to smell her sweet scent on my pillow; to feel her warm, fit body against mine. Every morning. This girl made me think impossible things. Wish for something I never knew I wanted. Bugger me. I was in trouble.
Posted on: Sun, 19 Jan 2014 05:35:12 +0000
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