“Carson… you’re seeing someone else.”
“No. I’m not.”
“No?”
“No. I told you Emma and I went out twice. I thought maybe it was time to get out there, so when she asked me out, I agreed. That night at the gallery was the first time. Then we had dinner one night. She’s great. Pretty and smart.”
Ayla’s eyes narrow.
“Smart enough to know that I wasn’t ready to date again.”
Ayla blinks. “Oh.”
“Yeah. She told me…” I pull in a breath. “She told me I was a nice guy but clearly not over my wife.”
Her eyes widen.
“At first, I was pissed off, because what the hell did she know? But she was right.” I give Ayla a searching look. “I’m not over you, Ayla.”
Fuck. I said it. Anxiety hums over my nerves.
“Carson.” She floats closer, into my arms. I turn us so I’m sitting on the seat and she’s on my lap, facing me. “I… I’m really confused.”
“I know. Me too.”
She drapes her arms over my shoulders and leans in to touch her mouth to mine. A soft, shy kiss. Then she pulls back. “I don’t know if it’s too late. And I’m scared. But… maybe we could talk about it?”
Oh Jesus. Relief flows through me. And hope flickers. “Okay.”
“But right now…” Her gaze drops to my mouth. “I just want…” She tilts her head. “This.” And she kisses me again.
I kiss her back, lifting a hand to touch my fingertips to the side of her neck, my thumb rubbing her cheek. Our mouths open and she touches her tongue to mine. A knot of need deep in my gut tightens. Her mouth is warm, wet, lush. I slide myother hand around the back of her neck into her hair, our kisses deepening, mouths wider, trying to inhale each other.
My phone alarm chimes.
We both jump apart. Then laugh.
“Out of the tub,” I say to her, smiling. “I want you fully conscious and aware tonight.”
“Oh, I am.”
We’re quick out of the water, wrapped up in towels and hustling down the sidewalk in seconds. Our sense of urgency doesn’t stop once we’re inside the cottage. I reach for her hips and pull her back against my front. She lets go of the towel and it drops to the floor. My hands cover her abdomen and I kiss and suck on the soft flesh at the side of her neck, then I undo the bathing suit fastening at the back. Her top loosens and I push it down over her arms. I fill my palms with her tits, soft and full, and responsive; her nipples tighten into hard points and I pluck at them with my fingertips. She shivers against me, her head falling back on my shoulder.
“We need a shower,” I say in a low voice.
“Okay.”
I lead her into the bathroom and strip her out of the little bikini bottom, then shuck my shorts. I turn on the water and hold my hand under the spray until it’s warm and then I step inside with Ayla.
We stand beneath the water, my hands on her neck, thumbs caressing her jaw. I press on her chin to open her mouth and slide my thumb inside. Her eyes meet mine as she sucks on it. Fuck, that’s hot.
We draw back, heat rising, and I caress her shoulders down to her tits again, enjoying the slickness of wet skin and supple flesh. She takes my jutting cock in her hand and tugs.
“Fuuuuuuck.”
I slip my hand between her thighs to explore her pussy, bend my head to kiss her again, the sound of the water pattering down around us and steam filling the small space. I have to stoop to get a better angle in her slit, and she caresses the back of my head, my wet hair, her other hand still jerking me.
A stream of soft moans slides from her throat as we kiss and touch each other. Then she lowers herself, her mouth gliding down my pecs, my abs, and, sweet prancing Christ, she takes me in her mouth. I lean back against the wall of the shower and watch her, mascara smeared around her eyes, mouth stretch wide to encircle my girth. She gazes up at me, eyes hazy, crouched in front of me, her hands resting on my thighs. I let my arms fall to my side and cant my hips.
