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She bends over, her face coming closer until her lips are virtually touching my chin. She plants a light kiss on my bristle.
‘I thought this was supposed to be torture?’ I say, humming my contentment and sinking farther into the softness of my bed. This is more like heaven. ‘Carry on.’ I close my eyes on a smile, but they flip open immediately when I feel her teeth sink into my nipple. I inwardly curse to high heaven, but outwardly I won’t give her that satisfaction. ‘Oh yeah, baby,’ I mumble through my teeth, rolling my hips up and catching her exactly where I intended. Her little gulp makes me smile, and it only widens when I feel her shift to escape my tactical move. Don’t mess with me, gorgeous. ‘More,’ I urge her, flexing my chest up, pushing it closer to her mouth.
I’m annoying her. It’s evident in the restrained huff of breath as she snatches up the tub of ice cream from the mattress. I open one eye and find her digging out the remnants, the melted cream trickling down her arm. ‘Damn, are we out?’
Her scowl is worthy of instant death, and I recoil, feigning fear. ‘You’re going to regret you ever met me, Ryan Willis.’ She tosses the tub aside and slaps her palms into my pecs, but her attempt to spread the ice cream is really quite pathetic.
I peek down at her hands working circles into my muscles. ‘You know, Hannah,’ I say, returning my eyes to hers. She stills. My smile slowly falls away. All of a sudden, the mood is serious. ‘I don’t think I am,’ I murmur, and she visibly softens above me, every part of her loosening.
I gently pull one arm free from under her knee, and then the other. She doesn’t fight me on it. I sit up, slide my arm around her back, and turn her, taking her down to her back. Levelling up our mouths so she’ll feel my words as well as hear them, I scan her eyes for a while, examining every fleck of blue. ‘I’ll never regret anything where you’re concerned.’
Her lip wobbles. ‘Promise me,’ she orders, taking her hands to my head and pulling me onto her mouth.
‘I promise you.’ I whisper my vow into her mouth and pray it reaches her heart, her soul, and deep into her mind.
Because never before have I said something and meant it so much.Chapter 17HANNAH
They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. As I stand at the freezer eyeing the endless tubs of Ben & Jerry’s, I conclude that the way to Ryan Willis’s heart is through his Chunky Monkey, which, I guess, is ultimately through his stomach. Depending on whether he chooses to spread it on my boobs first. There’s not much left to land in his stomach after it’s melted all over me.
I smile as I reach forward and take a tub, digging my spoon in as soon as I’ve removed the lid.
‘Boo!’ Ryan grabs me from behind, and I jump out of my frigging skin, being spun around a few dizzying times before I’m set back on my feet. ‘Morning.’ He slams a hard kiss on my forehead and swipes the ice cream from my grasp before getting a spoon and strolling casually to the front door.
I look down at my own spoon, surprised to see the ice cream still there. I shrug as I slip it into my mouth and watch him go, my lips pouting around my spoon. His boxer shorts are tight. His thighs are . . . I cock my head in silent contemplation, the spoon sliding slowly out of my mouth. Edible. I roll the ice cream around, licking my lips when a small piece dribbles out. His hair is tugged to death. I swallow slowly, grin lazily, and go after him.
‘What’s for breakfast?’ he asks as he takes the stairs and wedges his spoon into the tub.
‘You’re eating it.’ I rush down and join him. ‘Don’t you get sick of it?’ I ask as I shove another spoonful in my mouth.
Reaching for my nape, he tugs me forward onto his lips and forces my mouth open with his tongue, stealing the ice cream I’ve just put there. He swallows. Smiles at my surprise. And lands a smacker of a kiss on my lips. ‘I’m finding new ways to enjoy it these days.’ Slowly turning, he wanders casually over to the outside shower and flips it on. Lord, he looks so good moseying around the wilderness in his boxers. I look down my front, to the shirt I snatched off his floor and threw on this morning. Navy-and-grey check. It’s perfectly Ryan, therefore perfectly me.
Catching my breath, I pad over to his hammock by the tree and climb in, getting comfortable and swinging in the light morning breeze as I stare up at the cloud-dotted sky. I don’t know what time it is. I don’t care what time it is. I’m not ready to leave this heaven just yet. I bring the spoon to my bottom lip and tap lightly, thinking. This never ends. What a wonderful notion.
