The way he says my name sends heat pooling low in my stomach. I’m already needy and so completely gone for a man who could wreck me completely.
“Aspen,” he repeats, and I realize I haven’t answered him.
“Yeah,” I pant. Words are hard when he’s sucking and nibbling my neck. I’m an inferno as his lips blaze a path up my neck.
“I asked if I could take you inside.”
I make a sound of agreement and push off the car, but he’s an immovable force.
He brushes hair off my neck, working his way back up to my ear. His stubble tickles, and I giggle. God, I sound like a teen, giddy and airy. But it’s exactly the way I feel when his lips trace the shell of my ear.
“Something funny?” he asks.
Always so serious, this one. Before he leaves, I’m going to get him to loosen up and laugh.
“For starters, you have to stop kissing me if you want to go inside,” I say.
“Sir!Youare kissingme.I’m just standing here.”
Warmth from his huffed breath skates over my skin.
“You’ve never juststoodanywhere a day in your life. Your mere existence is temptation. You’re a goddamn miracle in human form.”
It’s unfair that he can spout romantic poetry like that while I barely have two functioning brain cells to rub together after that kiss.
He steals my chance at a response, pressing his hips forward as he pins me to the car once more. “Outside is fine too.”
My hands go to his chest. “Inside has a shower and a bed.”
That gets his attention.
Instead of letting me walk inside on my own, he spins us around so fast I squeak in surprise. For a man recovering from broken ribs, he moves entirely too well.
Pointing me toward the house, he glues us together—back to fron—and continues kissing my neck as he guides us. It’s a damn good thing his arms are banded around my waist because my knees threaten to buckle when he sucks on my pulse point. It’s got a direct line to my clit.
“You know I plan to let you kiss me again when we’re inside.”
“Good to know,” I say, but he doesn’t stop.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Maybe. But I don’t care.”
“You planning on letting me go so I can shower?”
“Nope. I need one too.”
“Oh!” I exclaim. “That reminds me, the plumber is coming tomorrow.”
“Cancel it. I don’t need my own shower.”
I snort out a laugh—something I do a lot more than I expected with Emmett. There’s so much more to him than the grumpy hotshot he lets most people see. And it’s not just his dry sense of humor. When he lets someone in, he’s tender and kind—protective.
He thinks his past makes him a liability—unlovable, even. But the truth is his past has made him steady in all the ways he thinks he’s flawed.
More than wanting to make him smile the way he makes me, I want him to see the man I see, the one who makes me laugh and brings me coffee. The one who refuses to stop kissing me for even a moment.
And in the end, even when he leaves and I’m the one left broken, it’ll still be worth it.
