Inside Out by Grayson Cole

sort. “What I’m telling you, Trace, is that I can’t stay away from you. And I have this feeling that it may be the same for you.”
    â€œThat’s pretty conceited of you.”
    â€œDeny it,” he dared her. She hated when he was like this. So aggressive, so smug, so…sexy.
    Tracey loved diversionary tactics. “You hungry?”
    â€œNo, but I haven’t eaten all day so I guess I should have something.”
    She got up and went into the kitchen. He followed her.
    â€œWhy aren’t you eating?”
    â€œI don’t know, I guess I’ve just had a lot of stuff on my mind.”
    She glanced at him, then opened her refrigerator and stared, not really seeing the contents. She just needed somewhere else to focus her attention. She grabbed a beer.
    â€œCan I get one?”
    She tossed him a bottle. He tapped the top before he opened it. He still stood there staring at her. Staring at her and drinking. “What is it?”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œWhy do you keep staring at me?”
    â€œI can’t help it.”
    Tracey ignored this. “What do you want,” she hesitated, “to eat?”
    He paused for a millisecond. His eyes were lazy on her. He smiled. “Doesn’t matter. Like I said, I’m not really hungry.”
    Tracey thought about the pre-packaged tortellini in her cabinet. Quick and easy. The problem was that Garrett was standing beneath the cabinet and she wasn’t too keen on being close to him right then. The way he watched her was downright feral.
    â€œWhen you asked me if that was all I wanted to apologize for—Charles, that is—was there something else you had in mind?”
    â€œNope,” she answered.
    â€œWas it my absence?”
    Tracey shrugged.
    â€œDid you miss me?”
    She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek.
    â€œWas it the way I touched you?” he prodded gently. She didn’t look at him. Her stomach tied itself in knots and she developed an obsessive desire to wipe the blurry spots off the side of her chrome toaster.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œI think it was.” His voice was low, caressing. “I think the way I touched you made you nervous, the same way I’m makin’ you nervous right now.”
    â€œYou’re not making me nervous,” Tracey retorted. And, as if to prove it, she decided to go for the pasta. She didn’t care how close she got to him because she was not one to back down from a challenge. She should have been. When she brushed against him, her breath caught for the n th time that night and her eyes sought his.
    â€œYou’re surprised?”
    She could barely speak. Her whole body sang with electricity and she thought she was going to melt into a warm puddle any second. She stared at him a tense moment and finally said, “How long have you been like that?”
    â€œI think maybe ever since I met you. I know I’ve been like this ever since that night. You remember, don’t you, Tracey? The next morning we woke up and pretended to be asleep. Or that other night, the night when you finally let me touch you after I had waited for so long. The same night I wanted to make love to you so bad I could taste you.”
    Mute, Tracey just stood there with an ache and fire building between her legs.
    He moved closer to her and she waited for him to kiss her. “Can I, Tracey?” he begged. She looked up into his beautiful eyes. “Can I taste you?” Tracey began to shake her head, but he didn’t allow her to. He chose that time to kiss her. His mouth was so warm, too warm, hot. His hands, however, were cool. He laid one on her back beneath her sweater, and the other beneath the waist of her skirt. He was trying his luck at a surprise attack. It was working. His soft tongue flicked, then teased. His lips sucked softly on hers. His teeth nibbled gently, and then he sat back and looked at her expectantly.
    Tracey finished the rest of