Rising from the table, I let my hands wander to her waist, careful not to be too intrusive. She eagerly sways into my grasp, and her curves feel like heaven as they roll into me. My arm snakes around the small of her back, my hand falling lazily against her hip.
“What is the tattoo on your thigh?” I inquire.
“And why are you looking at my thighs, Mr. Northlane?”
“Answer the question.”That came out sharper than I meant it to.She quivers in my hold, signalling to me that she may actually have likedit.
“It’s my Dad’s guitar. Well,myguitar, wrapped in wildflowers with a horseshoe and a deck of cards. There’s a few other little filler pieces in it too. The artist did an amazing job.”
I twirl her in a circle and return her back to my hold. I can barely see it in this lighting, but I canfeelher cheeks flushing as she falls intomy chest.
“Any other questions or is it my turn?” she asks.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
“Everything?”
“Yes. Tell me something true, somethingreal.”
“I like green apples, hazelnut chocolate, and I make a mighty fine breakfast.”
“Breakfast, really?” she questions.
“Fuck no, I have Colt for that.” I can’t contain my laughter as I think of just how shit of a cook I am. But for her… for her, I would learn.
“Lucky for you, Idomake a mighty fine breakfast,” she replies, though it’s more of a challenge as her eyes turn to pure sin and she tilts her lips far too close to mine.
“We shouldn’t,” I choke out.
“I know,” comes her reply, though she makes no indication of stopping.
“Annabeth,” I warn her. Once I kiss her, I won’t be able to stop myself.
“Dallas, please.”
My hand roams the curve of her hips and creeps up her back until it reaches her hair. Curling the bubblegum strands into my fist, I arch her back ever so slightly, granting me better access. She moves so fluidly at my touch.
“Ah, fuck it,” I growl, refusing to give myself a chance to recompose myself.
We’re crashing together like angry waves. The instant her lips meetmine, I know I’m done for. An unquenchable ache radiates through my entire being as every nip of her teeth against my lips sends a rush of blood to my dick.
My tongue slips between her lips, opening her sweet mouth wider for me as I meet her tongue with my own. Our hands roam each other, desperate, hungry. God, she tastes like fucking heaven.She moans into my mouth and reaches for my face, her soft hands against my skin send another rush of blood to my cock. I’m so hard against her, I think my dick is going to burst. Peeling away from the kiss – despite it damn near killing me – I grip her ass, lifting her until she wraps her thighs around my hips. She’s curled around me like a koala, trailing kisses down my neck as I carry her to the picnic table.
I sit her on the wooden panels and let my hands weave across her body. Gentle moans drip from her swollen lips, and I know that once I have her, it’ll be my undoing. I want to savour every moment, every kiss, every lick. Not a single inch of this woman is going to be left unsatisfied. I’m going to bury myself between her thighs and stay there till I either pass out or she begs me to stop. I’m a ravenous man, and she’s my death-row meal.
I hook my fingers in the waistband of her shorts, asking the question I desperately hope she answers. She does. Lifting her hips, she lets me peel her shorts from her. Her gorgeous shape relaxes without the restraints of denim to cover them. The sun set a while ago, but I can still see every curve of her in the moonlight as it reflects off the water, creating an effervescent glow around her that lives up to her nickname.Firefly. Her soft tummy sits above her panties and all I can think about is ripping them off her with my teeth and devouring her.
“Dallas,” she breathes, though it comes out barely a whisper.
“Yes, Firefly?”
“I want you.”
That’s all the encouragement I need, and I’m on top of her, our mouths moving together in perfect tandem. My hand reaches for her, and I slip my fingers between the thin fabric of her panties to find her soaking wet for me.
“So. Fucking. Wet,” I moan into her.
