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“Pretty sure it’s Ryan who owes you an apology for the scene he just made. But don’t hold your breath waiting for that. And one from me for my texting error.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
Stacey paused, thinking. I let the words and their double meaning settle between us. She didn’t have to stay. I didn’t want her to sleep with me out of a sense of guilt.
She moved towards me slowly and my breath hitched. Stacey rested her palms against my chest and I leaned into her, breathing in the body wash and smoke on her skin, andfuck,I could smell her arousal. It was all I could do not to bite her, claim her.
“I’m not leaving,” she whispered.
“Despite what I just yelled at your brother, I don’t want to cause issues.”
“He’s the ones with the issues.”
Doug’s warning about Stacey at footy training echoed in my mind. I shook my head. Everyone’s got issues. Me included.
Stacey cradled my jaw in her hands. “Last night, I was unbelievably tired. I made a mistake. I’m sorry I didn’t let Ryan or my family know where I was. But I’m not sorry for being with you.”
Her lips grazed against mine and I shuddered.
“You’re grieving—”
“Harry, I’m ready. I’m so ready I’m about to burst if you don’t kiss me right now.”
I kissed her hard and within a minute, we were tangled around each other, our kisses wet and messy. I picked her up, both her legs wrapping around me and I pushed her against the wall, grinding my length against her pussy.
Stacey broke our kiss. “Inside me. Now, Harry.”
I strode to the bed, laid her on the mattress, and hovered over her.
“We’re really doing this.”
“Rules schmules,” Stacey whispered against my lips.
Her thighs tightened around my hips and her eyes flitted over me, the bed, the wall.
“Hey.” I cupped the back of her head, gently pressing my lips to hers.
“Hey,” she whispered back.
Our eyes locked, our breathing was ragged.
Finally, Stacey sighed. “I’m nervous.”
“We don’t have—”
“I want to. I’m nervous, not unwilling,” she croaked. “I need you to guide me.”
To hear those words felt like so much was at stake.
“I’ll do anything you want me to.” I pressed another kiss to her lips. “You’re in the driving seat, Firebird. You control the speed.”
Her hands sought out my shoulders and then chest. She traced the shape and ridges of my ribs and pecs, unable to help herself touching me.
“You make me want to do so many things,” Stacey murmured, and then shook herself. “Part of me has been hidden and ignored for so long.”
“What part, Firebird?”
“Being … sexual. Having sex,” she said on a long breath. “Kissing.”
