I slowly open her jeans, giving her time to tell me to stop.
She pauses, her eyes burning into mine. The warmth of her steadies me.
Once the zipper is down, she nods.
“Please.”
One word. One gift.
My hand slips between us, unhurried, giving her time to change her mind. She doesn’t. She leans into it instead, breath breaking against my mouth.
A groan slips out of me when I feel how ready she is. I move carefully, memorizing every sound she makes. Every gasp. Every shift of her hips.
“Oh, god.” She bucks, shifting closer, fingers digging into my shoulders like she needs me stable beneath her. I don’t push. I don’t rush. I just stay. Anchor. Give her something solid.
“You’ve got me,” I breathe. I press my mouth just below her ear and tell her the truth. “You have no idea how gorgeous you look right now.” How am I this lucky?
“Shaun,” she breathes, the word breaking apart in her mouth. “Don’t stop?—”
Her forehead presses to mine. Our noses brush. The world narrows to breath and skin and the creak of the truck beneath us.
Her pace quickens as I hold my finger in place, giving her the control. I keep my eyes on hers. Every tremor that runs through her runs through me too.
Her hand slides to the back of my neck, fingers curling there like she needs something solid to hold on to. She closes her eyes, but I nip her jaw. Her eyes spring open instantly, the red in her cheeks deepening.
“Look at me,” I plead, my voice strained as I feel the first tremor roll through her and pulse around my grip.
Her breath breaks against my cheek, sharp and uneven, and her body tightens as the moment crests. I adjust, slow and deliberate, watching her pupils blow wide. She comes apart on a cry.
And that breaks me open in a way I didn’t expect.
When she trembles against me, I stay right there. Holding her through it. Watching her face. I don’t look away. I want her to see me there.
With her.
When she finally sinks back into herself, I keep my forehead pressed to hers, breathing her in, holding her like letting go isn’t an option.
I help her settle, careful and gentle, then draw her into me. She comes willingly. I rest my head against her, right where her heartbeat thunders, strong and fast, matching the rhythm of the song still playing in our ears.
“Guess that worked,” she whispers.
I laugh, breath still uneven, my voice muffled against her. “Yeah. That took my mind off things.”
She nudges my shoulder until I lift my head and look at her. Her eyes search mine, the green softer now, the sharp edges gone. “Want to keep our minds busy a little longer?”
My answer comes without thinking. “Hell. Yes.”
When she leans in again, she takes her time, enjoying the tease. I meet her halfway, drawn in without a second thought.
The kiss deepens into the kind that steals your breath and makes you forget where you are. She shifts closer, the tailgate creaking beneath us, and I slide a hand to her back, holding her there.
The music hums low in our ears. The corn rustles nearby. The world keeps moving without us.
TEN
I GOT CHILLS
SANDIE
