“And I think I’d like to take a pic and post it on the Instagram feed for hot guys in reading nooks,” she adds.
“Is that a thing?” I ask as I close the remaining few feet between us.
“If not, I’m starting that hashtag today.”
“Give me a paperback, and I’ll pose for you.”
“Ooh, you know how to tempt me,” she murmurs, then she sighs as I band an arm around her back, thread a hand through her hair, and claim her lips in a sweet, minty morning kiss. Briefly, she breaks the kiss, whispering, “Brushed my teeth for you. No morning breath here.”
“Dude. Same for you,” I say, smiling against her mouth then kissing her again.
Deeper this time.
My head swims with desire—and something else too.
Something stronger, more powerful.
Something that tethers me to her, and I know what it is as my lips sweep across hers.
It’s everything I’ve avoided for the last two years.
It’s everything I’ve tried to protect myself from.
The feeling that she’s the only one I want. That we could be together. That we could be a thing.
As I kiss her more deeply, our tongues skating over each other, our mouths searching, I wish for more weekends like this, more times with her, and, most of all, I hope she feels the same way.
When I break the kiss, she blinks several times. “Good morning to me,” she says.
I smile, and it feels like nothing can make me stop. “Hey, I wanted to revise something about our deal.”
“The no-rules deal?” She slides her hands up my pecs then down my abs.
“Yes. That one.”
“Okay,” she says tentatively, then squares her shoulders, taking a deep breath. “Lay it on me.”
She’s so tough, so strong. I can see that tenacity in her blue eyes, in the way she stands. She’s bracing herself for something hard, for something unexpected.
Maybe from years of doing precisely that.
But I hope that what I have to say is something she’ll want to hear.
I press a kiss to her forehead. “When I said no rules, I was foolish. I have a very big rule.” I pull back, meeting her gaze. “Just you and me. That’s the one rule. I don’t want to find some guy’s vanilla-honey lotion in your bathroom, okay?”
She laughs, her nose crinkling. “Or his lavender deodorant?”
I nod, big and long, teasing her. “And no hairbrushes, K? Keep those all away. You hear me now?”
She raises her hand, ruffling my hair. “Do you need a hairbrush though?”
“I thought you liked my messy hair,” I say, dropping a kiss onto her cheek, loving the freedom to embrace her like this. I flash back to laser tag the other week, to all the little touches we exchanged. They were all precursors, it seems, to what we both really wanted.
“I love your messy hair,” she says, then slides her fingers through it. “And yes, Ransom North. I want you all to myself. I like you a lot. In fact,” she says, licking her lips, taking a deep breath, “I’m kind of crazy for you.”
My heart spins wildly, the merry-go-round picking up speed and turning in whip-fast circles. “What do you know? I’m kind of crazy about you too.”
I haul her close for another hot, deep kiss that makes my head hazy and my skin tingle. And, big shock, it makes me want more than kissing. She seems to feel that way too, judging from how she’s melting against me, wriggling against me. And, oh yeah, grinding too.
Good morning indeed.
We stumble over to the nearest couch, stripping off the little we have on. We tangle together, kissing more, touching everywhere. I slide my hand between her legs, my skin sizzling as I glide across her hot, wet center.
“Need a condom,” I mutter.
She props her cheek in her hand, nibbling on the corner of her lip. “Or . . . we could go without. I’m clean and on protection.”
I groan, slide a hand up her neck, and grip her hair. “Me too. Clean, that is.”
I flip her to her back, hike her legs around my waist, and slide home. Pleasure envelopes me everywhere, from my toes to my hair.
She arches against me, her lips falling open, a shudder moving through her.
I thrust into her, fucking her on the couch. She moans and cries out, moving with me, rocking against me, gripping my hair, yanking me close.
She wraps her legs nice and tight around me, tugging me nearer as her fingers rope through my hair.
It’s hot and frenzied and passionate.
And somehow it feels both like fucking and like a promise.
Like we’re sealing our deal.
To be with each other.
To move past all our fears and jump into the great, wide waters of trying again.
With someone you trust.
Someone you’re pretty damn sure you could love.
That’s how sex with her feels.
Soon, we’re both panting, moaning, and coming together, tangled, sweaty, and satisfied.
