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She goes to move, but I squeeze my knees, trapping her. I move her hair over her shoulder so I can see the skin of her neck. “Not yet,” I whisper, and her body folds when she realizes I’m not letting her go yet.

We listen to the next song, and the next, without talking.

Just guitar, wind, and silence.

She sucks in a breath as my lips graze her supple skin; she tastes like lavender. Her whole-body jolts like my lips are on fire as I move my hands lower near her hips.

Dammit. What’s wrong with her?

Was it because I called her baby? Or how low my fingers are, or because I can’t seem to keep my lips off her.

“I really, really want to kiss you, Didi. I won’t push you for anything else. But please, let me kiss you.”

She turns to face me. “I don’t know…”

“Just one.”

“Okay,” she breathes. “Just one kiss, then you have to take me home.”

Hell yeah…

Without hesitation, I pull her chin up and bring my mouth to hers. We linger there, our breath mingling, lips teasing each other, until she opens her lips and lets me deepen the kiss. I keep it gentle, letting her take the lead, and she shyly teases me with her tongue.

My body heats, the air heavy between us, and I wrap my hand around her neck and pull her in closer.

I’ve kissed a few girls in my life, though not as many as one would think because I’m picky.

But kissing Didi is different. Kissing Didi is everything. My stomach knots up and all I care about is making sure she likes it.

I pull away and study her. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” she breathes. “I don’t want you to stop.”

We kiss for a few minutes, and I get drunk off her.

“You taste like honey,” I tell her, keeping my lips on hers.

She sniffles. “That’s what I had for lunch. A spoonful of honey helps line my stomach. I learned that when I was little.”

That makes my soul weep.

My hands roam her stomach, and my lips find her neck. My dick now full-blown out of control. “Didi—hell. You’re driving me crazy.” I buck into her.

She’s so sexy and doesn’t realize it, which makes her even sexier.

I squeeze her and shift my hands down to her waist and sense something hard on the side of her abdomen.

What the hell is that?

A tiny sob escapes her, and I freeze, scared to move, but it’s there, an oversized belt wrapped around her hips.

She grabs my hand and pulls it up. “Tommy, please don’t do that.”

My jaw clenches, but I pull my lips and hands off her. “Okay, Didi. I’ll stop.”

I release her, and she crawls back to her seat, staring out the window into the dark night.

What the hell just happened?