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“Thanks for breakfast.” I stood up to start taking away the dirty dishes, but he stopped me. I looked at his hand, it wrapped around my arm without any difficulty, then I looked up his arm, across his shoulder, over his face to his eyes.
“Let’s go for a walk.” He stood, trailed his hand down my arm, and linked our fingers together. Tugging on my hand, he directed our way through the backdoor toward the vineyard. I barely had time to close the door behind me before we walked down the few steps toward the perimeter of the trees and the vineyard.
“Tell me about it,” he said in his husky voice. Why was his voice husky?
“Tell you about what?”
The wind picked up and blew some of my dry hair in my face. I pushed it back with one hand; Brett refused to let my other hand go. He turned toward me, and with his free hand, pushed the strands I’d missed behind my ears.
“Tell me how you touched yourself while thinking about me.”
I walked backward. Positive I’d heard him wrong.
“Excuse me?” I whispered.
“Tell me.” He kept walking forward while I stepped backward until I collided with, what I assumed was, a tree.
Brett unlinked our fingers and placed his hands on either side of my head and leaned down until we were eye-to-eye.
I bit my bottom lip.
I couldn’t tell him.
My heart started to race and I could have sworn something passed over his eyes before his lips crashed against mine.
