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“Potatoes. Unless you object to being given another vegetable.”
Erin moved beside her and reached for the knife again. “I can manage those.”
Claire handed Erin the potatoes. She quartered them quickly, then swept the pieces into the roasting pan. Claire picked up the olive oil and offered it to her. Erin reached across the island, but for a moment her fingers closed around Claire’s hand instead of the bottle. Erin released her hand, but only long enough to walk around the island and settle behind her while Claire poured the olive oil over the potatoes.
One palm rested at Claire’s waist while Erin reached past her for the salt. Her chest brushed Claire’s back as she seasoned the potatoes, and Claire turned them through the oil.
When every piece was coated, Erin set the salt aside. Her hand remained at Claire’s waist. “If I keep touching you, dinner may be delayed,” Erin whispered into Claire’s ear.
“I rented this house through New Year’s Day. I’m not worried about the schedule.”
Erin bent and kissed the spot beneath Claire’s ear. “Well then, that gives us plenty of time.”
The words reached far beyond dinner, and they both knew it.
Erin released her, and Claire carried both pans to the oven. She slid the tenderloin into the oven, followed by the pan of potatoes. Behind her, water rushed over the cutting board as Erin washed away the last traces of rosemary and garlic.
“How long?” Erin asked.
Claire set the timer. “Thirty-five minutes.”
Erin sprayed the island and wiped every inch they had used to prepare the meat. “That feels like a long time.”
“For the tenderloin?”
Erin folded the cloth and placed it beside the sink. Her attention had left the oven entirely. “For keeping my hands to myself.”
Claire turned toward her. “Then don’t.”
Erin crossed the kitchen and kissed her. Then she cupped the back of Claire’s neck and took her mouth as though the hours since their last kiss had tested the limit of her patience. Claire grabbed her shirt and pulled her closer. The island pressed into her lower back, trapping her exactly where she wanted to be.
Erin’s hand slipped beneath the bottom edge of her sweater. Her palm traveled over bare skin and settled at her waist.
Claire broke the kiss long enough to draw a breath. Erin paused, watching her face.
“Don’t stop,” Claire whispered.
Erin kissed her again, then let her mouth travel slowly down Claire’s throat.
“Erin.” Claire touched her jaw and guided her face upward.
Erin met her eyes. “Tell me what you want.”
Claire had spent years softening her wants before she spoke them. She had made them reasonable, convenient, easy for other people to accommodate. Nothing about the way Erin watched her asked for restraint.
“I want your mouth on me.”
Erin’s gaze dropped to the front of her pants. “Get on the counter.”
Claire braced her palms against the clean surface and lifted herself onto the edge. The marble felt cool beneath her, even through her clothes. Erin stepped between her knees and kissed her again, slower now, one hand sliding along her thigh.
Her fingers reached Claire’s waistband, unfastened the button, and lowered the zipper. Claire lifted her hips while Erin drew her jeans and underwear down together. Erin placed them on a nearby chair, then returned to the space between Claire’s thighs.
Cool air reached Claire’s wet skin. Erin went still for one charged second. Then she rested her hands on Claire’s knees and eased them apart. “Lie back.”
Claire lowered herself onto the island. Her sweater protected her back from the cold marble, but the chill still reached her through the fabric. Erin drew her closer to the edge until Claire’s hips rested against it, then lifted Claire’s legs over her shoulders.
The position left her completely open. Claire’s fingers curled around the edge of the counter.
