Page 30 of Hot Times in Heart Falls, Vignettes Vol 3

He grinned against her mouth. “I always keep my promises.”

The second kiss melted them both. She opened for him with a soft sigh, and he took his time. Tasting her. Stroking his hands down her back. Letting her clutch his shoulders as if he were the only reason she didn’t fall over.

And then—because he wanted this to be good, so damn good—he pulled back enough to look her in the eyes. “You set the pace.”

Ginny blinked, breathless. “You’re really putting me in charge?”

“I’ll follow orders until you tell me otherwise.”

She tilted her head thoughtfully. “In that case—less talking, more touching.”

He chuckled and obeyed, sliding his hands under her shirt, savouring the warm skin he found. When he reached the edge of her bra, she arched into him.

“Do you have any idea how much I like your boobs?” he murmured then bent to kiss her collarbone. “They’re perfect. Absolutely unfair.”

“You’re welcome,” she said with a laugh.

He eased her shirt over her head, kissing every new inch of exposed skin. The flush in her chest, the swell of her breasts—God, he could spend a lifetime exploring. She wasn’t posing. Wasn’t pretending. She just was. Real and open and beautiful.

“Top ten best things I’ve ever seen,” he whispered reverently as he nudged the bra up and kissed along the curve of her breast.

She laughed again, delighted and surprised. “Only top ten?”

“Well, I might need to test drive them for a while to be sure,” he said and ran his tongue across her nipple until she gasped.

She shoved at his shoulder, mock outraged. “You’re impossible.”

He dropped them both onto the bunk, her laughing, him grinning, and the two of them tangled together in an awkward, glorious heap.

“Hey!” she squeaked as he hooked his fingers behind her knees and ran his fingertips down her bare calves. “What are you doing?”

“Testing a theory.” Because this was Ginny, and the thing between them was fire and heat yet still family in all the right ways. Which meant this too was as necessary as breathing.

“What theory?”

“That your feet are still ticklish.”

“Don’t you dare—Tucker Stewart!”

She shrieked as he tickled her arch with one wicked finger, holding her down to enjoy the sensation of her whole body squirming under him. Childish memories turning into adult delight as every brush together lit his desire hotter.

Laughter burst free. “Stop, stop—okay, okay, mercy!”

He stilled immediately, grinning at her, all flushed and breathless. “That was satisfying.”

“You’re evil.”

“I’m motivated.”

Her smile gentled, and she reached for him, threading her fingers through his hair. “Then show me.”

Tucker stripped her slowly, worshipfully, one layer at a time. She helped him—unhurried, unashamed. Her hips rolled against his hands, her laughter quieter now, replaced with breathy little gasps and the occasional whisper in his ear that nearly undid him.

He undressed only enough to stay grounded—this wasn’t about him right now, but God, her hands on his torso were wicked pleasure.

When she lay before him, bare and golden in the low light, he ran a hand down her side, fingers reverent.

“I want you to feel everything,” he said softly. “And I want you to know—this is because I want you. Not as a distraction. Not as an escape.”