Scars From the Past #Wattys2015

Chapter 15 ~ Her Fingerprints On My Heart

"Should I feel intimidated now? Because you look like a little bunny when you do that," I chuckle, squeezing her cheek teasingly. If looks could kill, the glare I receive from her would bury me not six, but twelve feet under.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," I laugh which only causes her to release an annoyed sigh. "We're here," I declare, before getting out of the car and walking over to the passenger side to open the door for her. What can I say, I'm an old-fashioned gentleman. No need to swoon, ladies.

A slightly confused look forms on her face as she gets out of the car, staring back and forth between me and the apartment complex in front of her. "I live here," I shrug and the frown on her forehead softens yet I don't miss how she gulps heavily.

Taking her hand into mine, I guide her through the entrance towards one of the elevators. Her hand feels warm and soft and the mere sense of her skin against mine sends jolts of electricity through my body. At the latest when we enter the elevator and the doors close, the tension that's filling up the small space is undeniable.

Suddenly a gesture as simple as holding her hand doesn't seem so innocent anymore and I feel like pushing her against the wall and kissing her relentlessly.

When I look over to her, I see her fiddling around with the hem of her tank top and biting her lower lip. She's nervous which only causes the erection, that has slowly started to build up, to grow stronger, my jeans getting tighter around my lower area.

What's the deal with these damn elevators?

The 'ding' that sounds through the small cabine and the soft whooshing of the elevator doors as they open pull me out of my dirty daydreams and I clear my throat nervously before walking out into the carpeted corridor and towards my apartment.

"Et voilà, mi casa," I proclaim cheerfully after unlocking and opening the front door. "After you, milady," I chirp, gesturing her to walk through the door. "Did you just mix French and Spanish?" she giggles, causing me to groan in annoyance. "Just get it in already," I order and she obeys but not before shooting me a sheepish smirk. Following her closely, I close the door behind me.

I watch her as she curiously looks around the little entry area we're standing in before she takes off her heels. "Come on, don't be so shy," I say, nudging her softly as I walk past her further into the apartment.

"Don't tell me you cook," Amy utters incredulously when we enter the kitchen and she sees the pots and pans on the stove. "Don't be so surprised muffinhead, I live alone so I kind of have to provide something to eat for myself. Besides, I'm a guy not some prehistoric caveman," I smirk, causing her to roll her eyes but the slight blush forming on her cheeks gives away her embarrassment.

"So...how are you going to spoil me this time?" she grins as she hops on top of the kitchen isle. "I've cooked some rice and chicken with a curry sauce and vegetables, but the chicken is not quite done yet it needs a few more minutes," I answer, stirring the sauce so it doesn't burn or stick to the pan before turning around to face her.

"So you think I'm spoiling you, Miss Monroe?" I grin smugly, approaching her slowly and placing my hands on either side of her thighs, slowly moving them up and down over her jeans. "Well..uhm..you know...I mean..did I say spoil?" she stutters nervously, anxious at our sudden proximity.

I move my left hand up her thigh and around her lower back while lifting my right hand to cup her cheek, my thumb gently caressing her smooth skin. Her lips part slightly in response to the touch, softly releasing the breath she has been holding. "Do you want me to really spoil you, Amy?" I whisper against her lips, my heart pounding against my chest painfully.