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“Blackwell,” she exhaled into my lips.
“Hunt,” I answered against her mouth.
But she forgot what she needed to say and showed me instead, sitting up, never breaking our kiss and tossing her jacket to the side, her arms now completely unconstrained. She threaded her hands through my hair, frenzied in her need to get closer, and pressed the kiss even deeper.
The kiss broke and my lips found her throat. “You belong to me,” I claimed possessively, biting her carefully, reaping me a cottony gasp.
Her lips found mine again and we kissed with renewed fervor, eager to learn the other’s lips and mouth and tongue.
We kissed for hours, no one curious as to where we were, more than likely because my truck was still outside the main house. When the sun started to make an appearance, I knew it was time to go, though I was loath to leave.
“Cricket,” I pleaded between kisses, “I have to take you back or your grandmother will kill me.”
“No,” she defied, making me laugh against her lips.
“Please,” I groaned, “for Ellie.”
“Fine,” she said, sitting back, before attacking me again, knocking me back.
My hands found the small of her back and I kissed her once again. I pulled her away and sat up once more.
She huffed and her mussed hair flopped in front of her face.
“You look beautiful after I’ve ravished you,” I teased.
“You look awful, just awful,” she ribbed.
“It won’t work,” I told her, laughing.
“What won’t?” she asked, a brow raised.
“Taunting me.”
She smiled her clever smile at me.
“Come on,” I said, grabbing our coats and helping her down the bales.
Once on the ground, she sat on a bale and put her shoes back on that had found themselves somehow removed throughout the night.
“You have hay all over you,” I told her.
“So do you,” she said, giggling.
“Stand up,” I ordered, and picked straws of hay out of her lace dress and hair.
She shook out her hair and swept her bangs. She looked flawless, like she hadn’t just rolled around in a hayloft, as cliche as that sounds. She did the same for me and we put our coats back on.
I picked her up and she whooped when I swept her legs beneath my arm.
“How chivalrous,” she said, smiling.
She was so light, I sort of manhandled her, bouncing her around in my arms. When she rolled her eyes, I kissed her nose.
“What a lovely first date,” she commented.
“We didn’t do anything but make out,” I laughed.
She winked. “Exactly.”
