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My best friend had shown up yesterday with two bags of takeout from Dawn’s and a grocery bag full of extra clothes, including my magic sweater, which had been the catalyst for the sassing. By silent agreement we still hadn’t had our “talk.” As we dug into our lunch, Cody had pointedly assured me that he’d be home until Sunday, which left plenty of time for fighting.
Apparently, his cruise ship had been docked because of the recent storm. He’d also offhandedly mentioned that Austin stayed back in Mobile with the rest of the band, which I’d found… suspicious. But he hadn’t asked me about my stuff, so I returned the favor.
It could wait a day.
All of it could just… wait.
Which brought us to now, midmorning on Friday. I ran my hands over the quilt on Vinh’s bed and breathed in deeply, the allure of his intoxicating smell as potent as it had been the first night. My entire being practically hummed with feelings after being left to my own thoughts for another long, quiet morning.
Which was how and why I reached the conclusion that it would be good—necessary, even—to work out some of those feelings with Vinh. As soon as possible.
For the good of my friendship with Cody, so I wouldn’t go into our looming talk with guns blazing.
For tempering my frustrations before they turned into kindling for my usual resentments—the casino, Grandmother, AJ—and altered my mood into something entirely different and much less fun.
Those reasons were lies. I mean, they were true. They just weren’t my motivations. Vinh was. Everything about him was the reason, and everything in my being was screaming to be closer to him.
Vinh Lott ignited the greatest inferno my body had ever known, and with just a few words and thoughtful, perfect actions, he had become a safe harbor in recent storms.
Even with that certainty, nerves flooded my body when the front door unlocked. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t forget that the last time I made the first move, it had been the absolute wrong one and had ended in months of zombie-like wallowing.
But then the door opened, and there he was, the smells and sounds of the marina trailing him inside. His gaze sought me out immediately, that arched eyebrow relaxing as our eyes met. He was dressed in dark-wash jeans with a black belt and the same black shirt from our night on the bridge. His signature messy dark hair was even messier than usual, sticking out at all angles from a busy morning of restaurant work.
I smiled at the sight, my skin buzzing as I basked in the pleased look in his eyes as they raked over me, my confidence getting a much-needed boost when his gaze snagged on the expanse of my bare skin draped across his bed.
My choice of clothing—one of his shirts and no pants—signaled my intentions.
But words were important too.
He made it to the open bedroom doorway, and I parted my lips, ready to plead my case.
His low rumble beat me to it.
“Bree.”
My gaze—which had been glued to the expanse of his chest—snapped to his face, and with only the slightest twinge from my ankle, we collided, my words thrown to the wind.
He kicked the bedroom door shut as our lips slammed together. I leapt, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist—a maneuver I had never gone for before as a five-foot-nine woman. But Vinh’s strong hands caught me easily under the thighs before he spun us around and slammed my back into the door, rattling the thin wood.
Startled by the racket, or maybe surprised by his own intensity, he broke the kiss, leaning his forehead on mine and searching my eyes, both of us breathing heavily. My fingers, which had instantly threaded through his soft, dark hair, continued scraping his scalp, eliciting a full body shudder from him that triggered delicious sparks low in my belly. I had enough presence of mind to understand what he needed, but only just.
Tugging on his hair and positioning my lips by his ear, I pulled the one word back from the breeze that had taken the rest. “Yes.”
His gaze grew both softer and more intense as he drew in a deep breath before smiling wickedly. He pulled back, creating a sliver of space between our bodies, and slowly, intently guided me down from where I’d been perched high on his waist and positioned my core over the hard length straining in his jeans.
Oh. Oh.
My breath caught at the first grind of his hips and turned to rasping pants by the second, which were chased and consumed by his own as our mouths met again and again.
His eucalyptus-and-lemongrass scent grew even headier, mixing beautifully with the sounds of our mutual groans of pleasure. Only the thin fabric of my panties separated me from the full force of his thrusts that pushed me firmly and repeatedly back into the door, creating a slight ache in my back that was the perfect complement to the growing pleasure in my core. He ended one particularly life-affirming kiss with a light bite to my lip and bent his knees, changing the angle of our contact before grinding against me in slow, circular motions, each arc brushing my aching clit. My body began to shake, signaling an impending climax, and I pulled back from our kiss, seeking his gaze to share the moment with him.
Understanding lit his dark-brown eyes, and just as I was ready to fall off the edge, a gust of air cooled my back, and then we were moving.
Vinh walked me to the bed with one arm under my ass and the other massaging my back where it had been against the door. Then he lowered me onto the bed slowly, careful of my ankle.
“Rude,” I rasped, squirming backward on the bed.
He laughed, a deep and throaty sound that had me searching his face, trying to work out his next move. As far as I was concerned, this climax was officially in his court, and I was trusting him to take care of it.
