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“You've created a monster, I think,” she said quietly, and kissed him again. “Two innings left, and then I’ll race you back to my house.”
He grinned. “You’re on.”
* * *
His car was already therewhen she rode up to her house, and she quickly hopped off her bike. She jogged up the stairs and saw him waiting for her, casually stretched out in a lounge chair on the deck, hands laced behind his head.
“Slowpoke.”
She plopped herself down on his lap, straddling his legs, and kissed him. Their hands laced together, and as the kiss intensified, the aching need in the pit of her stomach steadily built.
She went to work on his shirt, rapidly undoing the buttons, never taking her lips from his, and impatiently yanked it from the waistband of his pants, finishing the last few buttons. Her hands caressed over every inch of his stomach and chest, up his neck and into his hair, tangling in the thick waves as she kissed him hungrily.
He grasped her bottom and pulled her firmly against him, seating her against his growing erection. He pushed his hips up slightly and she shuddered.
“Do you want to go inside?” he asked breathlessly.
“No. Here. Now.”
A short time later she collapsed onto his chest, her breathing erratic and her body covered with a thin sheen of sweat. Sighing contentedly, she laid her head on his chest and listened to the rhythmic beat of his heart. He took a deep breath, and his hands coasted down her back and under her bottom.
“That was some welcome home.”
She rested her chin on his chest and smiled. “Mm. I debated jumping you at the ball field, but it didn't seem prudent.”
“That would have been a littletoopublic for me. Though I have to say, I like this deck. I love seeing the ocean behind you when I'm inside of you. What a gorgeous picture.”
He laughed when she blushed and lowered her face to his chest.
“What are you hiding for? You were the one who demandedhereand now, Miss Bennet. I was perfectly willing to go inside.”
She shook her head. “There was no time for that. But we should probably go in now. I think I've exposed myself enough for one day.”
She slowly lifted herself off him, pulled on her shorts, dug her keys out of her backpack, and let them into the house.
“Hey, you owe me some pictures. Where are they?” he asked.
“On my bed.”
He walked into her bedroom and stood over the bed, gazing at the pictures she’d laid out before she went to work.
“Wow.”
She leaned against him. “Wow? Is that all you can say?”
“Wow. I’m adamngood photographer.”
She laughed and elbowed him. “You had a damn nice subject to shoot.”
“I did, you're right.” He turned to face her. “Seriously, Lizzy, they're beautiful, even though they don't do you justice. Can I take them home with me?”
“They're all yours. They're not exactly something I'd hang up in my darkroom. But I'm keeping the ones of you, and the one of the two of us together. Those are mine.”
“Deal.” He stacked all the pictures together and they walked back into the living room.
“What are we doing tonight?” she asked, watching as he fixed his pants and enjoying that he left his shirt open, hanging loose from his shoulders.Yum.
He shrugged. “Want to go out, get a bite? We could see a movie too; we haven't done that in a while.”
