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She grinned, impossibly pleased. ‘Yes, I’d say it is.’
Pushing out of her deck chair, she stood over him. ‘Just so you know, Trey. If you want to kiss me, I have absolutely no objections.’
‘No?’ He smiled up at her.
She straddled his thighs, settled onto his lap, a laugh escaping when the deck chair creaked and she had to grasp hold of the strut next to his head to stop from collapsing on top of him. ‘I wonder how much they charge if you break the stupid thing.’
His hands grasped her waist to steady her. ‘Whatever it costs, I’d say it’s worth it.’
His wide chest expanded as he let out a staggered breath. His hands spread out under her sweatshirt, and his solid thighs quivered beneath hers.
He tugged her down to him, and she opened her mouth to meet him halfway. Excitement making her light-headed.
This was actually happening. At last.
She could taste the minty freshness of his breath. For a split second she panicked she might taste of stale cappuccino, but before she could draw back, his tongue thrust deep, claiming her mouth.
The muscles in his shoulders bunched beneath her palms as she clung on, anchoring herself as his hands stroked up her back, sending delicious shivers all over her body. He took without asking, devoured without holding back, but let her set the pace. His tongue coaxing, persuasive one minute, and hungry the next.
It felt so good, tasted so sweet and so hot. The kiss seemed to go on forever, full of power and demand, but ended way too soon, leaving her yearning for more.
Her whole body shook. The urge to grind her hips against his and increase the contact was overwhelming.
Strong fingers massaged her neck, then rested on her shoulders as his head dropped back. ‘That was a really stupid thing to do,’ he said, his warm brown gaze fixed on her mouth.
She licked her lips, still tortured by the taste of him, the desire for more. ‘I liked it, though.’
She threaded her fingers into the short hair above his ears and trailed her thumbs down his neck. His Adam’s apple leaped as the delicious shiver of response coursed through him.
‘Me, too, but we still shouldn’t have done it,’ he said. His rueful smile suggested he didn’t regret it. Or at least not much. His cheeks had darkened beneath the olive skin.
Obviously, she’d caught him at a weak moment. When his defences were down. And he hadn’t been able to resist her.
She was really pleased about that.
‘We can’t do it again,’ he said.
‘OK, if you say so.’ We so are doing that again. And again and again and again.
No need to press him now, though, while he was feeling fragile and she’d disgraced herself with the stalking incident.
But having him forgive her and understand, about Liam, about everything, or understand enough not to think she was a psycho, and now knowing his secret, getting to understand some of his loneliness and being able to comfort him—there was no going back from that.
He was being cautious. Careful. She understood that. He was a practical, sensible, overly responsible guy who worried about all the stuff she’d made a point of never bothering about.
She was bothering about it now. Because she didn’t want to be immature, or selfish, or a spoilt cow ever again. But no bloody way was that going to be their only ever kiss. Not when it felt so awesome.
As well as being sober and mature, he needed to cut loose, let off steam, get a fricking life. He’d lost his temper with her because he’d been wound way too tightly.
And if there was one thing she happened to be an expert at, it was how to unwind. And let loose. And do the wild thing. When the wild
thing was required.
Squeezing her waist, he boosted her up until she was off his lap.
‘I need to go back to the hospice,’ he said, sobering her up.
‘Would you like me to come with you?’
