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She kisses me back hungrily, scrabbling at my shoulders and tugging at my shirt. Don’t even know what I’m wearing, and I tear away quickly to glance down. A plain white t-shirt, gone kinda grungy from years of washing, with the hem frayed where it meets my old jeans. Shit. Still, at least Eden doesn’t seem to care one bit about my worn closet.
Just like I don’t want her any less for her plaid pajama pants and baggy black sweater. If anything, seeing Eden so natural, so comfortable, so raw, makes me want to rip her clothes off even faster. I kiss her again, and she laughs against my mouth as I tease the hair-band from her dark hair, freeing that ponytail.
Soft hair spreads over her shoulders. A small hand creeps under my t-shirt, stroking up my bare stomach, and agonized need twists in my gut like a hook.
This time when I kiss her, my pulse thuds in my ears.
“What will we t-tell Jeremiah?”
Eden plucks my jeans button open, and I huff and squeeze her perfect ass. “Don’t say another man’s name right now. My control is hanging by a thread.”
Eden laughs, the sweet sound echoing around the greenhouse. “Well, then maybe you should let go.”
That’s another sentence without stammering. Fierce pride glows in my chest, and I take Eden’s wrist, tugging her down onto the dusty stone path.
“Sit on my lap. Yeah—like that.”
Not gonna make my girl sit down in the dirt. Hell no.
That’s my job here, and I am very fucking happy to do it. The stone is warm and flat, but I’d sit on a bed of nails if it meant getting closer to Eden.
Down here, we’re level with the under-story: the flowers and ferns and other small plants that carpet the rainforest floor. The stream is louder, too.
“We’ll tell Jeremiah that we’re dating, but that we’ll keep it out of the greenhouse. How’s that?”
Eden presses her lips together, fighting a laugh, and pointedly looks all around.
“Yeah. Well.” I grip her hips and squeeze, rocking our bodies together. “While he’s here too, anyway. This is after hours in the greenhouse—doesn’t count. And what Jeremiah doesn’t know can’t hurt him.”
Besides, it’s none of his business. It’s none of anyone’s business, and down here, cocooned by shadowy leaves, it’ll stay that way.
Eden must agree, because she knits her fingers behind my neck and kisses me deeply, squirming in my lap like she’s impatient for this too. God, I hope so. She’s panting now, hot and flushed and so fucking sweet, and my heart pounds out a war beat against my ribs as she writhes in my lap.
“Do you feel what you do to me, Eden?” My voice is rough.
She nods and rocks against my length, riding the hard ridge of my cock through my jeans. It’s the best kind of torture. Her eyes are hazy.
“C-can we…?”
My gut twists even tighter. “Hell yeah. If you want to, sweetheart.”
Eden smiles, so shy even now, with her lips red-raw from kissing me. “I don’t know what I’m doing. But I w-want to.”
Thank god. I’m wound so tight, I might explode if I don’t press inside my girl. Need to feel her wet heat; the tight grip of her strangling me; the scrape of her teeth against my neck. Need to fuck that shyness away, and hearing that I’ll be her first only makes my blood pump hotter. But first…
I lay back on the stone path and pat my chest.
“Take those pants off and come sit here.”
Eight
Eden
It’s so surreal, standing up on wobbly legs and seeing Kai Akana stretched out on the stone path below me. His hair glints in the lamplight, and his white t-shirt strains over his muscled chest. When he catches me staring, he flashes a cocky grin.
“Up here.” Kai pats his chest again, right on the sternum. And I know what he’s offering—I’ve read romance novels, damn it—but that doesn’t take the squirmy, embarrassed feeling out of my stomach. My thumbs hook over the waistband of my pajama pants but I pause, mind racing.
What if I’m weird down there?
