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“What’s up, Mini?”
Because we know each other, she understands I’m not asking as a conversational throwaway.
“I’ve thought about that kiss every day since it happened.”
Yeah, so have I. I don’t tell her that, though.
“That so?” I ask.
She nods. “I shouldn’t have—”
I hook my finger into one of the belt loops of her shorts and pull her near. She lets out a small squeak and then smiles. Now she’s between my legs, her palms on my thighs, her dark eyes wide with surprise…or anticipation.
I hope it’s anticipation.
“It happened,” I remind her. “There’s nothing to regret.”
Twin imprints of heat sit beneath her hands. Heat that’s working its way from my legs to my lap.
“Have you…thought about it?”
“Can’t,” I tell her. “Unless I want to walk around with a twenty-four-hour erection.”
Her mouth drops open but the expression on her face isn’t offense. Her top lip is curved in amusement. I want to kiss her so badly I can taste it.
“Want another go?” I ask, ignoring my own good sense. Getting in deep with this girl isn’t only a bad idea, it has a track record that’s proven.
She lifts an eyebrow. “Have you been drinking?”
“Not yet. You?”
“I poured a glass of white wine when you pulled in but only had a sip or two while I watched you work.”
“You watched me work?” My turn to be amused.
The air sizzles between us, hotter than the summer sun and suggesting that she wasn’t watching only out of mere curiosity but with a healthy dose of attraction.
“And you didn’t offer to help.” I shake my head and she laughs. It’s like earning a prize. My hands on her waist, I pull her closer.
The blaring alarm inside of me is as loud as before, but having her near mutes the sound. It’s like I’m in a room and I can see the flashing red lights and people running frantically for the exit outside of the soundproof glass, but I’m in a bubble. That’s what she always did for me. Calmed the noise.
I believe in what I can see, hear, smell, taste, and touch. I think that’s why we had such a difficult time maintaining a long-distance relationship. Talking to her on the phone was only part of the sensory experience of Allison Murphy. I needed it all.
“Mini.” My voice is a croak of defeat.
Her slight shoulders lift as she sucks in a breath. I wait a beat, not asking for permission but definitely looking for a sign that I’m not completely out in left field alone. When her lips part and her gaze flits to my mouth, I know I’m not.
One gentle tug is all it takes to bring her mouth to mine. Her hands go to my shoulders, then wrap around my neck. She’s not as close as she was in the pool, which means she’s blissfully unaware of the chubby stirring to life in my pants. This kiss is less surprise attack and more leisurely exploration. The way her tongue finds mine and strokes, testing. Tasting. The way her fingers tickle my scalp. I slant my head to deepen the kiss and she returns it with vigor.
She starts to pull away but I grunt in disagreement, continuing the kiss as long as she lets me. When she pulls away her pupils are lust-blown black.
“Some things never change,” she whispers.
Ah, hell. That got me.
The alarm isn’t blaring any longer. My sense of self-preservation left the building when she put her lips on mine just now. Don’t get me wrong. I want to give a shit about how we shouldn’t do this again. I just…don’t.
“I don’t know what to do, Jax.”
