Page 2 of Stirring Attraction (Second Shot 2)
Her teasing smile faded at the reminder of the reality beyond the bedroom walls. “You know I do.”
“We might not have time for the Chinese food.” He momentarily blocked his view as he drew his “Go Army!” T-shirt over his head. He discarded the reminder of where he was heading in two days’ time. He wanted to leave this town and the dead-end future it promised, but not Lily.
“I hate Chinese,” she said.
She reached forward and grabbed on to the belt buckle his father had given him after he won the state championship with his high school football team. He pressed his palms flat against the wall, one on either side of her head. He couldn’t touch her. Not yet.
“I know.” He allowed her to pull him close, her fingers working to free his belt and undo his jeans. “I didn’t want to run the risk that you would want to eat first.”
She smiled as her hands won the battle with his belt. Drawing his zipper down, she leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “Smart man.” Her hands pushed his pants over his hips and then went in search of their target.
“L
ily,” he gasped as her fingers wrapped around the part of his body that thought “slow” spelled disaster. Hell, it just might. He wanted her so damn much he might come in her hand. “Careful,” he added. “Or I’ll be about as useful as I was the first time. In the front seat of my truck.”
“Have as much self-control now as you did at seventeen?” she challenged, her hand moving up and down now.
“You know it.” He took his right hand off the wall and cupped her jaw. Angling her lips up to meet his, he kissed her. He knew her mouth. He’d memorized the way she liked his tongue to tease hers.
His hand moved down her neck and over her shoulder. His fingers froze, hovering on her collarbone. He knew the feel of her soft skin as well as he knew his own. But dammit, he couldn’t take the weight of her breast in his hand, her nipple brushing against his palm, and still maintain control.
She broke the kiss. “Don’t hold back, Dominic,” she whispered. “You never have before. Don’t start now. You know how to touch me. You’re the only one—”
His growl cut off her hushed words. He was the only one who knew the color of her panties. The only man in her bed. The only one who heard her sly humor. And yeah, the only man in Forever, Oregon, who loved her.
For now . . .
Possession unleashed his need and he cupped her breast. He felt the weight against his hand as his thumb drew small circles around her nipple.
Damn right, he knew how to touch her. His other hand abandoned the wall and reached for her hips. He gripped her, holding tight, pinning her against the wall.
“Release me, Lily,” he demanded, his forehead touching hers. “Now.”
She obeyed, and her hands moved to his bare back. Holding tight to his shoulders, she raised her right leg and wrapped it around his hips. “Here?” she asked.
He let go of her hip and slipped his hand between her legs. His fingers brushed over her center. So damn wet. He slipped his index finger inside. Her hips rocked forward, eager for his touch.
“Here,” he confirmed as he drew his fingers away. His other hand let go of her breast and he palmed her bottom. He guided her left leg up until her limbs wrapped around his waist.
“I’ve got you,” he reassured her.
“No, honey,” she said, her voice low and rough. “I’ve got you.” She squeezed her thighs as her nails briefly dug into his shoulders.
That voice . . . Those words . . . The woman he’d loved for five long years tore past his restraint.
“Now,” she added, rocking her hips forward. “Let’s see what these walls are made of.”
He slipped inside her. No condom. No barrier between them since she’d started taking the pill. He didn’t need to guide himself. He knew how to find home. And Lily was his.
For two more days. . .
He withdrew an inch, then another, and thrust forward. Hard.
“Oh, Dominic,” she gasped.
He repeated the motion, loving the sound of his name in that deep voice she reserved for him. Because right now, she was his, dammit.
Maybe one day she’ll be mine forever. When I come back and claim her. . .
