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Shortly after the fair was over, my dad had made good on what he’d said to me. He’d made me the Kissing Booth Co-Ordinator, a volunteer position on the fair’s committee, and word had quickly spread that I was going to overhaul the entire thing for next year.
Unfortunately, that meant that I couldn’t even buy bread without someone giving me the next big idea.
At least they were big ideas in their minds.
Not so much in mine.
“Nah, I know what you mean.” He walked around the table and came over to me, slipping his hands around my body. He hugged me from behind as I trimmed down the stems on some flowers. “You’re doing it wrong. Cut them at an angle.”
I held up the scissors. “You do it, then. You can arrange them for me, too.”
Preston sighed, taking the scissors after he released me. “I showed you how to do that one time, and now there’s no getting away from it.”
“Mm. It’s my mom’s birthday next week. I need some flowers.”
“I’ll arrange a nice one and send you the bill.”
“Thank you.” I smiled and pulled myself up onto the counter. “Has Bethel gone home yet?”
“Shit, I meant to call you this morning.” He peered at me from the side. “She’s decided she’s moving in with Mom and Dad. Something about getting old and needing to be looked after.”
“Wasn’t she doing fireball shots at that charity Magic Mike thing at the weekend?”
“Yup.” He popped the ‘p.’ “Apparently it takes her a week to get over hangovers at that age. Mom told her to stop drinking, and Aunt Bethel looked at like she’d run over a puppy.”
“On the bright side, Grandma refuses to live here now, so at least they’re not together all the time.”
“Yeah, but it’s Aunt Bethel’s birthday in a couple of months, and she wants a big party. Which means your grandma will be back in town. As long as she doesn’t bring the glittery dress again. I think I’m still fucking scarred.”
Yep. It wasn’t just me and Abigail who’d experienced that.
Before Grandma had left, she’d insisted that Preston come for dinner at my dad’s. I wasn’t given a choice in the matter, and unbeknownst to us, she’d changed into the glittery number that showed her nipples.
“She won’t. I stole it.” I swung my legs, grinning. “It’s now safely where it belongs: a trash can.”
“She’s going to kill you.”
“I don’t really care.” I shrugged and looked over. He’d arranged the flowers in one of my favorite vases, and even though I didn’t know what half of them were, it was a stunning explosion of color. “That’s gorgeous.”
“So are you.” He came over and slipped between my legs to kiss me. “Did I tell you that your hair looks great today?”
I wrapped my arms around his neck. “You did now.”
I dipped my head and kissed him a second time. Then a third, and a fourth, and again and again. The kiss became longer, our lips moving together in more sync than before. His tongue flicked against the seam of my mouth, and he took my lower lip between his teeth and nibbled at it, sending a bolt of lust through me.
Preston grabbed my hips, pulling me to the edge of the kitchen counter. My fingers had somehow clawed at his shirt, pulling it halfway up his back. I kept going as his tongue moved against mine and his cock pressed against me.
Heat flushed through me.
It’d been a month, and we’d never done more than kiss. He’d kept his promise that we’d go slow; that we’d figure it out one way or another.
We had. At least, I thought we had.
And now, I wanted more.
I was ready for more.
I already knew I was falling headfirst in love with him, if I wasn’t already there.
I yanked more at his shirt until it was under his arms.
“Halley?”
“Take it off,” I murmured against his lips. “I’m ready, Preston. I want more.”
He groaned as he raised his arms. I pulled his t-shirt up and over his head and tossed it on the floor. His skin was hot and smooth and tanned, and I ran my fingers over his shoulders as we kissed again.
His cock was getting harder and harder, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, holding him totally against me. The zipper brushed against my clit since my dress was no barrier at all between us, and I jerked.
He smiled before it quickly dropped and he kissed me again. He probed my thighs with his fingers, working his hands up my legs until they were under my dress. Each squeeze sent jolts of want through me, and I responded by squirming against him.
It was all too clear to me that all he had to do was unzip his pants and move my panties to the side and—boom.
