I feel her stiffen in my hands for a millisecond before her body melts into my hold. Wrapping my hands around her waist, I pull her body tight against mine as hers thread into the hair at my nape. I groan as my tongue lashes hers, relishing her breathy moan in response. Sliding my hands down her back, I cup her ass and lift her to me, her legs automatically circling my waist as I lean us against the side of the seat, her door still open, the interior of the car now also wet.
As I kiss her hard, she gives as good as she gets. Her lips are warm and soft, her hands running over my shoulders, making me feel like a wanted man. I’ve kissed a lot of women. Too many, probably. But never in the rain. I’ve never been this needy for them and never taken them as furiously as I’m kissing Nikki right now. I should be embarrassed by how much I want her.
“Come on!” James yells again, and we both pull apart quickly, panting. I almost forgot he was there waiting for us.
“Shit.” We look up, and I say a silent prayer that he can’t really see us, the open truck door blocking his view.
“Sorry…” She drops her legs quickly, and I step back, giving her room.
“Nothing to be sorry about, Tinker Bell. I’d do that again in a heartbeat.” I push her wet hair off her face again, just so I can cup her jaw. Preventing her from hiding from me, I tilt her face up to meet mine.
“Yeah?” she breathes out like she doesn’t yet believe me.
“Yeah,” I confirm. That was one hell of a taste and my appetite for her isn’t wavering.
A dazed smile shines up at me. “Me too.” And then she ducks under my arm and sprints inside, making me laugh.
Still chuckling, I grab the bikes, placing them under the cover of the porch on the side of the house, feeling like I’m on cloud fucking nine. I run back to the truck, getting a sweater I have in the back before looking around quickly, seeing nothing, no one. All the lights are on inside, and as I step up to her front door, immediate warmth and a welcoming feeling hits me. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting from the outside, since this little cottage is old, and the inside, it isn’t much better, but she has made it nice. I spot a small sofa and an armchair, a little side table, and a larger table, where James is getting the pizzas organized. It’s small, could do with some rugs or other fixtures, but it’s cozy.
“Here.” Nikki passes me a towel as I kick off my boots by the door, where hers and James’ both sit. “I’m gonna get the fireplace going.”
I watch her as I scrub my hair, again looking at the kindling, pushing it around, moving it just right for it to light up, before putting on a small log. There’s something about open fires. The way the light flickers around the room or the way the crackle hits my ears immediately lowering my shoulders.
I’m still watching her as she stands and walks back to where I am. Something about me has her balking.
“What?” I look down at myself to where her eyes burn into my chest and see my white t-shirt soaked through and completely sticking to my body.
“Shit. Mind if I take it off?” I pull the wet material from my frame before she replies because I can’t leave it on; it’s like I plucked it straight out of water.
“Ummm… ohhhhh… sure.” Her cheeks turn vibrant red.
Lifting it off my shoulders, I step outside to the porch and wring it out. When I come back inside, she’s in the same spot, staring at me, and I grin a wicked grin. I know I look good. It may be arrogant, but I work hard on my physique every day. I’m glad she’s just as attracted to me as I am to her.
I step toward her as I hear James clattering around in the kitchen, but her eyes don’t move from me, and I see her swallow. I like her eyes on my body and take delight in putting my fingers to her chin and lifting her gaze to meet mine.
“Do you mind if I hang this in front of the fire to dry?”
“Mm-hmm. Sure. Here, let me.” She grabs my wet t-shirt and lays it out on her small drying rack near the fire, and I towel off before I grab my sweater and pull it on. It gives me the coverage and warmth I need before I sit down to eat.
“Now can we eat?” James’ patience is running thin as he nearly huffs at the end of his question. Someone’s hangry for the pizza.
“Sure, honey.” Nikki smiles, and we all take a seat. It smells amazing, and James dives straight in, grabbing a slice and putting it on a plate before picking up his cutlery. I pause, watching as Nikki does the same thing, the two of them placing their paper napkins across their laps delicately, their table manners better than anyone's I’ve seen. And it's just pizza.
They both cut into the pizza with their cutlery, taking small bites like they’re eating at The Ritz or something. Nikki’s eyes close, and I swear I hear her moan, the sound zinging around my body.
“Why aren’t you eating?” James takes my attention from his sister.
“Better question. Why are you eating pizza with a knife and fork?” I know, of course, because these small snippets further cement to me where they come from. And it’s not poverty. They have refined table manners, similar to what I’ve seen in Europe or when out for a fancy dinner.
“Oh.” Nikki pauses, looking at James with wide eyes before looking back at me.
“Habit.” She shakes her head like it’s nothing before placing her utensils down and grabbing her pizza with her hand. It’s clumsy, like she’s never done it before. I look at James, who watches his sister, like he’s trying to understand how to do it, before he follows suit and grabs the slice with his hand.
“So… much… better…” He moans as he eats the slice like he hasn’t seen food in days. The sight of them both has me suppressing a laugh, happy to see them loosening up a little.
As I pick up my slice, I feel Nikki’s eyes on me. My little Tinker Bell is a mystery, one I really want to unravel… with my tongue.
17
