Crossing the Line

Don’t cross the line by russelljsmith

Just joining me? Catch up on the Greyhound Summer story here.

You have to understand, having Sam off limits was my safety net. I didn’t have to freak out about the fact that he could make me feel connected to him on a level I’d never shared with anyone. I didn’t have to freak out about having to cut that connection on Monday morning. Sam belonged to Mia and I knew I’d never cross that line.

So when Sam said, “You’ve been hanging back from me all afternoon because you think I’m Mia’s?” And he said it in the same tone he might use to say, “You thought I was a tree frog?” When he said that,
it was like he pushed me off a cliff.

When he threw down his shirt, stepped over the coffee table, dropped to his knees beside me, and grabbed me by the shoulders, it felt like one of those dreams you have where the demon that’s been chasing you, finally catches up. Your legs turn to goo that won’t take you anywhere, and when you open your mouth to cry for help nothing comes out.

Only in dreams, you would wake up at that point. But let’s just say for a minute that you didn’t wake up. Let’s say the demon lowered his lips to yours. Imagine that instead of the cold scaly sensation you expected, you got firm warmth gliding over your own lips, his tongue inviting yours to dance.

Maybe if that happened you’d set aside the idea of running for a moment.You might savor the sensation of his hot hands sliding down your back and the way his thumbs hooked under the straps of your top to scrape a sizzling trail up and down your shoulder blades. His teeth might nip your lip in a way that made you shiver and kiss him back, kiss him like he was that cold drink of water you’ve been needing all afternoon. You might be willing to overlook the fact that he was nothing but trouble for a minute or two.

When Sam pulled away from the kiss, we were both panting. My hands were planted against that slick, bare chest.I could feel his voice vibrate when he spoke, the way Matilda vibrated under my hands when I plucked a song from her. The notes resonated, carrying the tone through my skin and into the bones.

“Anymore questions?” He said it in a deep lazy voice, looking from under eyelids lowered to half-mast.

“Why me?”

It was a silly question. A man picks you up and flirts with you, kisses you senseless a few hours later, he’s hoping for sex. It’s just that if he wanted a romp and no clinging, Mia would have been interested. It was just the kind of relationship she preferred: light, sweet, nothing too deep. I couldn’t comprehend that he’d lived a few doors down from the beautiful and willing Mia, was friendly enough with her to have her key, and nothing had happened with them.

He settled on the couch beside me, put his arm around my shoulder and rested his cheek against the top of my head.

Here’s the thing about Sam. He’s honest. It would have been just fine if he’d lied, changed the subject, or gone back to seducing. But no, he had to tell me the truth.