Page 70 of On the Plus Side
His cheeks reddened beneath his beard. “I was actually thinking about asking you to help us with branding, but I didn’t know…”
“Are you kidding?” She couldn’t stop herself from literally bouncing in her seat. This felt like the first time since her grandmother that someone was taking her seriously as an artist. And she loved that it was him.
He slid his arm out of her hands so he could lace his fingers in hers. His palm was warm, wide, and smooth, and it felt like their fingers were two ends of a dovetail joint. Carved to fit only each other.
He watched her excitement, his stare unmoving. This man and his eye contact were going to be the death of her. “I’ve seen your work. I know how good you are.”
She didn’t have the words to respond, so she kissed him instead.
This time, it wasn’t rushed or nervous or uncertain. They were alone. No cameras. No prying eyes. At first, it was a slow brush of their mouths. His lips growing gentle but sure as they kissed again. And again.
Each one was longer and added more pressure. Then he nipped at her bottom lip.
As Everly opened her mouth to him, he rose eagerly from his seat, grasping at her waist and pulling her to her feet. She grabbed for the front of his shirt, balled it in her fists.
His tongue swept softly into her mouth, and little bursts of heat exploded at her center, below her waist. She suddenly couldn’t get him close enough, and she tugged on his shirt, pressing her body more tightly against him.
They stumbled back toward the couch, refusing to separate, the sound of kissing turning to occasional moans. The sun had begun to set and the only light left in the apartment was over the dining room table, shrouding them in semidarkness as their legs tangled and they fell together onto the couch.
Everly was wearing a dress, and it was both a blessing and a curse when he settled between her legs. The only thing standing between her and the hardness pressing against the fly of his jeans was her increasingly damp underwear, and it was an effort to keep herself from writhing against him.
It had been too long since she’d been touched by anyone but herself, and her body ached with the want of it.
The want ofhim.
Their kisses grew hungrier, their mouths open, their tongues dancing in a perfect rhythm of pressure and release.
His hands roamed her body, sliding up her sides, curving around her waist to her back, and coasting over her ass. His mouth got the same idea, leaving her lips swollen and her breath gasping as he traced the softest of kisses down to her jawbone and over her neck.
“I want to touch every part of you,” he whispered into her collarbone. “Taste every part of you.” The low gravel of his voice rumbled over her skin.
Oh god. He was a talker in the bedroom. The irony.
“Do it.Please.” There was a shudder in her voice, and she arched herself against him.
His mouth dipped to her breasts, kissing between them, below them, across her nipples, over the fabric of her dress and bra. If Everly had had a match, she would have lit her clothes on fire so those lips, those hands, could be on her skin.
Soon he’d reached her belly button. The peak of her thighs. He was slow. Methodical. Torturous. As he slid the hem of her dress up to her waist, his fingers moved like he was performing delicate surgery.
They teased the elastic of her panties, lifting it lightly off her skin, exposing her most sensitive parts to the cool air, only to let it settle back down a second later.
His mouth found the same spot, and this time Everly couldn’t hold back the sound that slipped from her lips. Somewhere between a groan and a sigh. A plea.
“Please,” she whispered again.
Her hips bucked, trying to angle his face where she wanted it.
He complied with one of those butterfly kisses, so soft she wasn’t sure it was real. He inched her underwear to the side before he applied any pressure, and she was seconds from erupting when his mouth finally rested firmly against her.
She made the loudest moan as his tongue parted her. Her skin grew hot and humid, and it felt like a warm wind was blowing across her face.
At first, she couldn’t place the sensation. Maybe she’d never had sex so great before, and this was what it felt like. You hallucinated as all your blood raced to one part of you.
Could that create phantom scents, too? Because something smelled vaguely like meat and pond water.
Logan slowly dragged his tongue up the length of her, and then softly back down, urging another moan from her. Everly’s body crept quickly toward an orgasm. Everything hot, tight, throbbing.
Just as he found that perfect spot, she turned her head and opened her eyes.
