Page 38 of Someone To Claim
But she doesn’t.
What she does is let out a frustrated little whimper against my mouth. “Kiss me back.”
Full disclosure, I was never the best student in school, but I’m not a fool. And I’ve been waiting for this moment for over a year now, wishing and hoping, but not truly believing I’d ever get here.
I reach up and cup her cheeks in my palms, wanting to savor every bit of skin I can touch. Then I kiss her.
She tastes like Swedish Fish and something sweeter that I’ll forever associate with her and only her. God, it’s so fucking good. Her tongue tangles with mine, and I groan and press my hips into hers. I’m rock hard from just a kiss.
There’s too much sleeping bag between us, both hers and mine, and I want nothing more than to rip away all the barriers. But instead, I force myself to take it slow, because this is a gift. Amoment I’d begun to believe would never happen again, even after I found her.
The material slips and slides as she tries to get closer, and she laughs into my mouth. I could build my life around that sound.
Slowly she stills, and I take that as my cue to keep the kiss unhurried, memorizing how her lips curve against mine when she’s not fighting what she wants. Every brush sends electricity through me, and I trace my thumbs along her cheekbones. I’ve been thinking about touching her for fourteen months, and reality is better than anything I conjured up in the dark of my bed in Nashville or on the road.
My entire body hums with wanting her. The tent is almost completely dark, other than the light spilling across us from my discarded headlamp.
She pulls back enough to look into my eyes, pupils blown wide, her smile relaxed. “Is Henry David Thoreau kink a thing?”
“It is now.” I drop my voice and give her my best affected drawl. “Welcome to Walden Pond, baby.” I add in a little hip thrust for good measure.
Her smile widens. “Well, you killed that moment in record time.”
“Can I get it back?” I try not to sound desperate.
“We should probably quit while we’re ahead.” Although she doesn’t sound any happier about it than I feel.
“Is that really what you want?”
“Don’t get cocky.” She lifts a brow. “It’s because I’ve had a fourteen-month dry spell. I’m sure you can’t say the same.”
I could play it cool. Deflect, or make a joke. Two decades in the music industry have made playing it close to the vest second nature for me. I never lay my cards on the table when there’s a chance the house can win. But Sloane is the whole reason I sat down in the first place.
“I haven’t been with anybody since you, Sloane. You might have ruined me for any other woman.”
“Don’t lie,” she says, sounding legitimately pissed.
“What makes you think I’m lying?”
“You’re amildlyattractive guitar player who spent the summer on tour with the hottest breakout star in country music.”
“Mildly.” I chuckle. “That’s huge coming from you. I’m blushing.”
“Whatever, Nashville. Am I supposed to believe that a one-night stand—” She holds up a hand when I open my mouth to correct her. “A two-night stand knocked you off your game that much?”
I don’t know why this is bothering her so much, but I do understand I need to tread lightly. “It wasn’t like I made some kind of vow. I just didn’t want to be with anyone. My advanced age comes in handy on occasion.”
“You need a little blue pill to get it up?”
“You know I don’t need a little blue pill. But I’ve done enough oat sowing or whatever your generation calls it. I’m not saying I wouldn’t have ever climbed back up on that particular horse, but the idea of it just didn’t appeal to me. Not after you.”
She closes her eyes as I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “Why does that upset you so much? It’s not as if?—”
“It doesn’t upset me, you big idiot,” she says. “It makes me want to tear off all your clothes, and mine too, and let you fuck me until I forget my own name.”
I open my mouth to speak, but a harsh rush of air comes out. “Yes, please,” I manage.
And then we’re a tangle of elbows and knees as we both try to extract ourselves from our sleeping bags. It’s awkward and hilarious. And the absurdity of trying to get naked in a space approximately the size of a two-person coffin doesn’t deter either of us one bit.
