I turn into the parking lot, letting go of her hand to put the truck in park telling her, “Stay, I’ll get your door.”
“Okay,” she responds. Her voice, it’s something I long to hear more of.
“Alright,” I head out of the truck to get the woman that’s steadily becoming my everything.
When I open her door, she’s already unbuckled and ready to slide out. Taking one of her hands and guiding her out, I watch as she slowly lowers herself down. When she steps away from the truck, I watch the way her body moves, the swish of her skirt, and how her shirt is driving me crazy with that glimpse of skin showing off her perfect skin.
I close her door, then my hand goes to where it needs to be the most, firmly on her back.
“You sure you’re okay with watching an action movie?” I ask her. Sure, I hate chick flicks, but if she asked, I would suffer through it especially if it meant holding her.
“Oh yeah, I’m excited to see it. Not to mention movie theatre popcorn with tons of extra butter and a large coke,” she laughs, but I can see she’s telling the truth. She lives for these moments, even if it isn’t some fancy place where you have to get dressed up to the nines.
Presley is definitely a small-town girl. We make our way to the ticket booth, when I see Presley pulling out money to pay for her ticket.
“Not happening,” I say with gruffness in my tone.
“I’ll buy the snacks then?” she asks.
“Got that too, babe. I asked you out on a date, not for you to pay for everything or half of everything,” I respond.
“Oh well, okay then. But I’m warning you the snacks will probably cost more than the tickets alone,” she says with a smile and a laugh.
“I think I can cover it.” I take the tickets from the cashier and we head to the snack stand to stock up on everything Presley could possibly want for a two-hour movie.
9
Presley
“I warned you,” I tell Lincoln as we take our seats in the movie theatre. We ended up getting an extra-large popcorn dripping with extra butter, two large cokes, and skittles.
Lincoln lifts the arm rest in between our seats, apparently not wanting anything between us, which if I must say, I’m thankful for. I want to watch the movie curled up on his chest, as much as I want to devour the food we bought.
“I’m not worried, pretty sure I can help polish off whatever you don’t eat,” he responds as he sits down. I take my own seat, placing my drink in the cup holder and then handing Lincoln his.
Lincoln has the popcorn in his lap, his drink in the cupholder next to him, and his arm is sliding around me, pulling me in close to him.
“Oh,” I gasp when there’s not an inch of space between us.
Lincoln just smiles, but the lights dim, and he moves the popcorn to where I can easily reach it, “Recline your seat a bit,” he croons.
“Wow, they recline. This is so cool,” I move mine until I’m comfortable. We’re practically laying down in a movie theatre, and we’re basically by ourselves. There’s something to be said for Sunday afternoon movies.
I quietly munch on our snacks until my stomach is full, my body molds into the side of Lincoln’s, his hand massaging my back the whole time. I look at him, Lincoln’s other arm is behind his head, using it as a pillow, and his gaze is on the movie the whole time.
I settle back in to watch the movie, but find my mind drifting into unchartered territory. Somewhere I didn’t see this going, me here with Lincoln. A place where I’m achy and needy, my legs rub together to soothe the way I’m feeling being this close to Lincoln, the way he makes my heart rate speed up, the things my mind is conjuring up.
“You have to stop, Presley,” he murmurs so low I can barely hear him. It heightens my senses even more. I lift my head and his eyes find mine. I can see the same desire in his eyes that I have running through my entire being.
“Oh my gosh,” I’m so embarrassed. I hope like hell he just saw my legs moving and didn’t see or even smell the desire that is coming off in waves.
“Presley,” he groans before his lips find mine. He devours the moan that is working its way up my throat, he swallows it down. His lips and tongue dominate mine. The taste of him on my tongue, the feel of us synchronized as one. Not to mention the way his other arm is now holding my hip in place, when what I really want to do is crawl into his lap and feel everything he has to give me.