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I shake my head. “Nope. It’s my treat.”
“Really, you don’t have to—”
“It’s my treat,” I repeat, more firmly this time.
“Well…okay.” She smiles. “Thank you, Adrian.”
She stands by the bar while I pay Jed, and then we leave and start walking up the street toward the B&B. Night has fallen and the moon is big and beautiful up amongst the stars.
Midway through our walk, Becca pauses for a few moments to admire some roses that have been planted right up against the sidewalk, and as she bends to smell them, I can’t take my eyes off her intoxicatingly curvy figure.
My hands ache to touch her. My mouth aches to taste her. My cock aches to be inside of her, claiming her as my own.
“Sorry,” Becca says, straightening up and smiling over at me. “Those roses just looked too pretty to walk past.”
“I’m in no rush.”
When we reach the B&B, we slow to a stop, and I gently turn her to face me. She looks up at me, the moonlight glowing in her eyes, and the moment is sublime. When I’m looking into her eyes like this, my mind strives to describe the wonder of her beauty, and yet every word I think of feels inadequate.
Her hands come up and rest on my chest as I wrap my arms around her. She tilts her head a little and just barely parts her lips.
When my mouth touches hers, it’s like an explosion between us. I feel like I’m dissolving into her, becoming one with her.
It’s in that moment that I know I’ll do anything to be with her.
Not just right now. But forever.
Becca’s fingers curl against my chest as our kiss continues. She lets out a tiny moan against my mouth. When we pull apart, she blinks at me, then flicks her eyes toward the B&B.
“Would you like to…um…”
Before she can finish asking the question, a woman’s voice sayinghellointerrupts. I turn to see Mary, an older member of our community, smiling at the two of us. It’s a reserved smile—one that’s clearly disapproving of our little public display of affection.
“Evening, Mary,” I say, unwrapping my arms from Becca but leaving one hand on her lower back. “This is Becca. Becca, Mary.”
“Nice to meet you, young lady,” Mary says, her eyes full of scrutiny.
Becca smiles and shakes her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Beautiful night, isn’t it?”
“I’d say so.” Mary studies us for another second, then reaches out and pats my arm. “He’s a good one, you know, this boy. Well-raised. Polite. Hardworking. Loyal. I’d even venture to say that he’s the kind of man who respects wedding vows and wouldn’t dare kiss a lady unless he intended to marry her.”
“Is that a fact?” Becca’s eyes dart between me and Mary, an amused smile on her lips.
“It’s true.” Mary nods firmly as she begins to shuffle off. “Goodnight, you two.”
“Goodnight, Mary,” I say.
“Goodnight,” Becca says, watching the old woman go. When her eyes lift up to mine again, she looks like she’s trying not to laugh. “So you have to marry a girl if you kiss her, huh?”
I chuckle. “Apparently.”
“Guess we’re in trouble then.”
“That a bad thing?”
Becca laughs. But then she presses her lips together.
“I guess I should probably go in now,” she says, glancing at the B&B.
