“Lafayette. I got a few of everything. Hot dogs, loose burgers, plain fries, and chili cheese fries for you. And a couple of doughnuts.”
I opened the box, peered at the mound of fries covered with heavy chili, cheese, and onions. Again. He’d done something so small. Remembering my greedy ass loved Lafayette Coney Island. “Thank you.”
He stood. “No worries. Let me know if you need anything else.”
I followed him to the door. “I’m sure we’ll be fine for now.”
“Colby is off work, but I let Grady know that you wouldn’t be accepting visitors.”
Before he could leave, I rushed ahead of him, stepping between him and the door. “Wait.” I placed a hand against his chest, right over his heart. “I really appreciate this.”
His gaze dropped to my lips. “You know I’ll do anything for you.”
I searched his eyes. “You mean that.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact.
“I do.”
Inching closer, I was acutely aware of his reaction to me. He wasn’t stiff, but he didn’t retreat. He didn’t speak. He didn’t meet me halfway either. When he told me he would let me set the pace, he meant it. And tonight, I wanted to …
Without a word, I reached up on the tips of my toes, clutched his shirt in my fist, and pressed my lips to his. He smelled so good—like sandalwood and spices, citrus and a hint of vanilla. Sensual. Sexy.
I groaned when his strong arms encircled my waist, holding me to him as he deepened the kiss. And damn … It was better than I remembered. The perfect balance of tongue and teeth. It was supposed to be a simple, thank-you kiss. Something to test the waters, but not fully immerse myself in him.
Not yet.
Maybe never.
His mouth was so soft, his body was so warm. I knew I should let go of him, pull back, step away, but my emotions were at war with each other over the best course of action. In the end, though, he made the decision for me when he broke the kiss, taking his body heat with him as he put some distance between us.
“Bug, I—”
Nodding rapidly, I blurted out, “You don’t have to say anything. I already know.” I placed a hand over my mouth. “I was just … I don’t know what I was doing.”
His tongue darted out, and I was laser focused on the movement, transfixed by the dimple on his right cheek, the tiny creases on his mouth. His beard. His diamond earring. Everything.
“I should probably go,” he suggested.
“Yes, get out.” I opened the door. “Don’t call me.”
He chuckled, and the sound went straight to my core. I flattened my hand on my stomach as he brushed past me into the hallway. But before I could close the door, he turned to me, gripped my jaw with his massive hand, and pulled me into a quick kiss.
Damn it.That was good, too. Maybe it was the force of it, the way he claimed my mouth, or the way his thumb swept down the column of my neck? So gentle. Sweet yet demanding. My knees nearly buckled, but I managed to hold on to the door frame.
He pulled back again, and I was struck by the heat blazing in his eyes. His hungry expression. “When you’re alone”—he circled my nose with his and kissed the tip—“I’ll have my way with you the wayyouwant. Remember … you set the pace.”
Then, he was gone.
Closing the door, I slumped against the wood and slid down to the floor. It felt like I’d opened a box that couldn’t be closed anymore. He said he would let me set the pace, and now that I’d tasted him, now that adult me knew what it felt like to be kissed by him, the question was …
Hard and fast, or nice and slow?
Or both?
Chapter 11
Wesley
Ooo wee … it’s being alleged that Mr. Batchelor is treading on thin ice. IG is buzzin’, but I have it on good authority that his dalliance with a certain #PreachersDaughter has landed him on someone’s shit list and possibly the unemployment line. Join me live at 7 pm for the tea.
