Page 33 of Wait for Me


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I’d held up one of the blush-pink fruits and asked him what it reminded him of… Yes, I was being naughty, and when I saw the fire in his eyes, I dragged him into the pantry. He spun me to face the window, and I gripped the ledge while he flipped my skirt over my peachy ass.

Feeling him behind me, working to get his pants down made me hotter than asphalt in July, and my pussy was so wet, by the time he thrust into me, I was coming on his dick.

One hand slipped under my shirt, cupping and squeezing my breast, rolling my nipple between his fingers. The other went between my legs, circling and massaging my clit, turning my knees to liquid.

I dropped my head back against his shoulder, losing myself in the sensations buzzing from the arches of my feet to the place where we came together.

He groaned and thrust so hard, I went up on my toes, at times leaving the ground, and the noise he made when he came vibrated in my bones. He pulsed deep within me, and his come mixed with my wetness was slippery on the back of my thighs.

From there, we took the three-wheeler down to the lake to clean up. Holding hands in the water, he told me he wasn’t sure what the future will look like now that we’ve found each other. I couldn’t tell him the feelings swirling in my chest and in my heart toward him. I was still afraid to even think them.

He’s my first love. He’s my first real kiss. He’s my first everything…

I don’t know how I’ll let him go in two days. I only know I’ll have to, and I don’t know what will happen after that.

When I walk into the kitchen tonight, I stop to take in his handsome form, standing in front of me in dark jeans and a short-sleeved polo.

He lets out a low whistle, and I pause in the doorway feeling self-conscious.

“You’re so beautiful.” His voice is hushed, and he walks slowly to where I stand.

My hair is styled in large curls cascading down my shoulder, and he leans down to kiss my cheek, taking a deep breath of my hair.

“You smell good… Is that one of yours?”

“It’s the lotion you helped me mix, remember? You picked the scent.”

It’s light coconut, peach, and rose, and it almost smells like a day at the beach—with fresh peaches on the side.

He cups my cheek and kisses me slowly, possessively. Our lips pull, and that familiar, delicious heat ignites beneath my skin.

We’re the only ones in the house, and I want to take his hand and slide it under my skirt… Only, I know if I do that, we’ll never make it to the festival, and I have to check in with Mindy’s mom.

“You kiss me, and I forget everything.” My hand is on his cheek and when our eyes meet, we smile.

“I’m just the opposite. I start getting ideas.” He gives me that bad-boy wink, and I start to laugh.

“Come on.” Tugging his hand under my arm, I lead us out the back. “I can’t wait to see if people buy my stuff. I can’t wait to show Sawyer my untapped market.”

His hand is around my waist, and he walks me to the old red Chevy. “I fully intend to tap your market.”

“Is that so?

“You know it.” The low rumble of his voice does crazy things to my insides.

“Let’s check on the actual market then I’ll let you in the secret market a little later.”

“Secret market.” He grins and kisses me again. “I’m intrigued.”

Shaking my head, I climb into the truck and scoot all the way across so I’m right beside him. I realize just how serious I am about this store when his hand rests between my knees and I don’t even slide it higher.

The Bible says there’s a time and a place for everything, and it’s time to see if I’m going to make a success of this organic products business.

The peach-eating contest is well underway when we pull up in front of the town civic center and city hall. Tents line the perimeter, and a big funnel cake booth greets us at the entrance.

Taron pays the ten dollars to grant us entrance, and we head straight for Mrs. Jenny’s booth. Mindy’s mom is shorter than me, and about forty pounds heavier. Her dark hair is cut close to her ears and hangs in sausage curls around her cheeks. Tonight, she’s wearing a purple dress with little flowers all over it.

“We’re almost sold out of those peach-scented candles.” Mrs. Jenny’s clear voice rises above the noise of people talking and the live band playing zydeco music at the end of the row.

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