In Over His Head

Chapter 28

Content warning: Sex scenes

He didn't hesitate, and slid over. Disregarding what she said for the moment, he pulled her in.

"Come now, let's take a breath," he murmured. "You're alright."

She hiccupped, and instead of pushing him away, she burrowed in, tears soaking into the front of his shirt. Sharla was not one to get maudlin when she was drunk, and she'd only had three glasses, so this was definitely not because of the wine. She could hold hers better than that.

Shoring her up, he gently stroked down her arm, and focused on the fire while she got herself back under control. In a moment, she would push away, set her hair back from her face, and tell him it was nothing, heft her shield back up. But for now, he would give her what comfort he could.

What she had said poked in as they sat in silence, the crackle of the fire and birds chirping at the dusk in the nearby trees echoed into the room. It was peaceful, if not for Sharla's unease. She'd asked for time to go home, which was oddly timed, but he assumed it was her trying to change the subject from what was really eating at her. But then she'd burst into tears and he knew it was more than just being a tad worn down.

She'd said he was what was wrong. What was that about? Was it worry about this afternoon? Was it something else? Was it their cozy dinner making her too nervous? Was it his phone screen? He had no idea which it was, or if it was all of it combined.

"Care to elaborate on what you said?" he said after a few minutes, when she curled her legs underneath her, resting her head on his shoulder so she could look out towards the fireplace as well. She had stopped crying,  wiping at her face with her sweater sleeves. His hand slid naturally to her waist, nestling her at his side.

Kevin had to check himself from taking more than he was being given, having her in his arms. He'd thought about this exact thing almost every day since last year, aching for it, being content with the odd platonic hug or shoulder pat in the office.

"No," she huffed, and then let out a breath, weaving her fingers together, fidgeting.

He couldn't contain a chuckle at her expected, emphatic response, and she swatted at him.

"Stop," she muttered. Grabbing her hand to keep it against him, she pressed her palm into his chest and with that shift, they were face to face, inches apart. She was heavy and warm against him, and the unquenchable need to kiss her rose up in him like a wave.

"Say no again, Shar," he murmured, their noses bumping, the past year of holding himself back aching in his chest. "Please say no and—"

She leaned in and their lips met before he could finish his well-intentioned statement to keep them from doing exactly what they'd both just initiated. Her lips were soft, tasting of wine and the spices from dinner and it spun him.

She was kissing him, she was in his arms. It was overwhelming and exactly what he wanted all in one.

As her fingers slid into his hair and she pressed closer to him, that unquenchable need exploded. He circled her with his arms to keep her there, his desire for her overtaking any other practical thought in his head. Her touch was filling the void he'd been trying to pour into work and distractions.

The kiss went from languid and slow as his hand travelled further over her, to needy and hot and he pulled her over to straddle his lap. The drape of her hair—which he loved—hid them as she bit at his lips. He slid his palms over her hip, and around behind to cup her bottom, the smooth denim tight. He wanted to be naked and inside her. Right now.

Her kiss had been enough to send him right back to where he'd been trying to avoid going, but with her fingers gently yanking on his hair, and her hips pushing into his, he didn't care anymore. Well, yes, he did care, but lust warred with sensibility in his head as all his blood was draining south.