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I make my way over to him and sit on the deck chair next to his. Apparently I was going to have to counsel the drunk guy out of the stupid idea.
“I don’t think that’s a great idea. They said there have been bears and mountain lions around here in the last couple of weeks. Remember?” I glance out into the woods that the property backs up to.
“Which is why I didn’t have food…” He eyes my ice cream bowl. “Midnight snack?”
“Maybe.”
“Is it the same kind you had before?”
“No. This is cookie dough.”
“Oh fuck. I love cookie dough.”
I hold out a spoonful and he leans forward and takes the bite off the spoon, swiping at his lip where some of it lingers and my eyes are drawn to his mouth.
“Fuck that’s good. Ice cream is my weakness. You can’t keep having it around all the time.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” His eyes drift over me for a moment before he blinks. “You should go back inside. It’s not safe out here. You said so yourself.”
“I’m not going in until you do.”
“Madness…” He drags a hand over his mouth as he watches me eat another bite.
“What?”
“I need to sleep out here.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve had too much to drink.”
“We covered that. You’ve got water, and you’re going to sleep it off.” I scoot from my deck chair to his, and he moves slightly so we both fit. I hold out another bite of ice cream and he takes it.
“Yeah. Out here.”
“You have a bed, inside,” I argue and feed him another bite.
“I’ve been drinking. You’re in there and…” he trails off and looks out toward the woods behind the house. I wait for him to finish, stuffing another bite of ice cream in my own mouth to try not to sound too desperate. But when he doesn’t answer I can’t handle the silence.
“And what?” My heart skips a beat.
“And just sitting here with you, eating ice cream has me thinking fucked up thoughts.”
“Like what?” I turn and boost myself up, moving one leg over to the other side of his thighs and offering him more.
That’s the other thing about Quentin. The way he looks at me. The way he talks to me. It makes me feel brave in a way I’ve never felt with another guy.
He takes the bite and groans as I shift in his lap. I can feel him going hard beneath me, and the heat of that knowledge rises up my neck and stains my cheeks. But I rock over his lap, anyway, testing his resolve.
His hands go to my ass, stilling my movement, and his eyes darken, a warning in them that I’m pushing limits he doesn’t think I should. But I just grin in return and eat the last bite of ice cream. I set aside the bowl and turn back to him.
“Like what?” I ask again.
“Like how much I want to taste you.”
“So taste me.” I lean forward and kiss him tentatively. He returns it, and his hands dig into my ass as his kiss turns rougher, one of them pulling away and drifting up my arm and shoulder until his fingers slip around the back of my neck. He tilts my chin up and kisses his way down my throat. He’s slow about it, like he’s taking his time. Like he wantsme. And I’ve never felt sexier than I do right now.
