Free Outside The Lines:: Third Person Narration by Bella Love Page A

“Yeah?”
    “Absolutely.”
    He just kept smiling. Like he didn’t believe her.
    “I have sex all the time,” she informed him. She left out the part about it being mostly with a showerhead.  
    He still didn’t say anything. His silence would be her downfall, the path to her truth.
    “I mean,” she said after another moment of it, “maybe it’s been a little while.”
    No laughter now, just his gaze burning through the room.
    “And I don’t know that it was ever headbanging ,” she allowed, looking away. She picked up a napkin, began shredding it. “But how often does that happen in real life anyhow?   Books and movies, but real people…?”   She dabbed at a bead of water with the napkin shreds. Her skin felt hot.   “But that’s my fault.   You know,” she rolled her hand through the air, “the uptightness and all.”
    “Your fault,” he repeated softly, like he was turning the idea over in his head.
    She nodded.   “Yeah. It’s hard to make me lose my head, let alone bang it. I don’t know how.”
    Silence.   Then, “Want me to show you?”
    Five words, that’s all it took.   Her body shivered, a hot, glorious sort of shiver. Her brain rebelled.   “Show me?” she said stupidly.
    His eyes never left hers.
    She noticed she was trembling.   “What does that mean?”  
    “It means I fuck you.”
    She got to her feet.   She had no idea what she was doing, and standing sure wasn’t going to help things, since her legs were shaking.   “Fuck me?”
    He nodded slowly.   “Yep.”
    “You’re going to do me a favor and fuck me?” she whispered.   Her head was buzzing.  
    “Let’s try this again,” he said softly. His eyes locked on hers—dammit—and he started saying—whispering really, promising —and she knew she was doomed, “I want to fuck you, Juliette. Please let me fuck you. I really, really want to make you come.”
    Her face roared with heat, her ears rang, she couldn’t hear herself, only his words, rushing over her like fire.  
    She had to open her mouth to breathe, because sheknew , knew , in the depths of her soul, that she was standing at the edge of a precipice.   This was a moment of decision.   She could get a life, right now. With a guy whose last name was Danger.  
    Cold fear sliced through her. No, it had been too long, she didn’t know how. And flat-out, she was scared. One could almost say terrified.
    But…wasn’t that the whole point of coming up here?    
    What she did know was that her heart was beating stronger than it ever had before, and Johnny was watching her, and she felt electric, like she’d been lit up in the darkness.   Like she could be seen.   And only Johnny was watching.
    She lifted her chin, shaking all over.  
    “Yes.”

Chapter Eight

    SHE WATCHED HIM shift in his seat, lean and graceful, his body like a predator. He said nothing. His gaze moved slowly down her body.  
    The silence went on and on, entered her body like a scent, until she became nothing but a bated breath, a frozen inhale, waiting for Johnny. His gaze slid back up.   She tipped her face toward the ceiling, kept her eyes on him, her mouth open to breathe, waiting.  
    “That’s a nice shirt,” he said, low and rumbly.  
    Her body ricocheted against nothing but the sound of his voice. “Thanks,” she whispered.
    “Unbutton it.”
    The breath shot out of her in a long, hot rush. She lifted her fingers to the top little button of her sweater and flipped it open, then exhaled raggedly, breathless from the effort.
    “All of them.”
    “Johnny,” she whispered.   “We’re in a bar.   I…I can’t.”
    “Sure you can.”  
    “Someone might s-see us. Hear us,” she whispered. For some reason, her body shivered.
    His eyes met hers, then he said slowly, perhaps significantly, “Oh.”
    She made a helpless sound which only seemed to inflame him. She saw his erection, hard, thick, pressing against the seam of those faded jeans.  
    She