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She took the spoon back. “It’s not that I don’t like them. I don’t like being trapped by so many rules. Hiking, skiing, swimming—things that don’t put me in a box—work better for me.”
Declan worked, unsuccessfully, to fight his smile. That sounded so much like the counter-climbing, spoon-dancing woman. Of course organized sports didn’t work for her.
“Let me guess. You love rules and organization?” She hopped down and winced. Pain shot across her beautiful features as she grabbed the side of her neck and took a deep breath and held it.
“What’s wrong?” Declan closed the short distance to get to her, purposely keeping his hands balled into fists at his side so he didn’t reach out for her.
“My neck is a little stiff. Not sure if it’s from the accident last night or playing in the snow. Maybe a combination of both.”
Was the accident just last night? It seemed like he’d known her for more than one day.
“Here, let me help.” He motioned with one finger for her to turn around.
Declan brushed her long blond locks over her shoulder with gentle fingers, sending her lavender scent wafting into the air. The moment his palms made contact with the bare skin of her shoulder, her body broke out in goose bumps, and he warred with longing. All of a sudden, he wanted so badly to drop his lips to the soft skin of her neck. He was drawn to her, pulled deeper under her spell with every passing minute they spent together.
He moved his thumbs first in small circles, working the tight muscles. Almost instantly, Natalie’s eyes flitted shut as she relaxed into his touch. And when something between a moan and a sigh left her lips, shooting straight to his cock, his rapt attention fell to her mouth. All day, he’d been pulling back. But now? He was tired of resisting. He wanted a taste of her so he could stop thinking about her. About how it would feel to have her soft lips pressed against his.
“Declan?” His name was barely a whisper. She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes soft but questioning.
He’d stopped his ministrations, but he hadn’t released her. Palms flat against her warm skin, he ran his hands down her arms to her wrists and finally let her spin back to face him.
He dragged his focus back up the exposed freckled skin of her arms and shoulders, over the swell of her breasts, past the pounding pulse in her neck, and paused for one second on her lips before meeting her darkened stare. Nothing good would come from kissing her, but he found himself leaning in anyway.
Just a taste.
Declan lifted one hand to her neck, and their lips met in a soft, feathery touch.
His heart pounded.
His body electrified.
Shocked by the power in that simple brush of the lips, he drew back and studied her.
“That was nice,” she mumbled as the corner of her mouth lifted.
Nice? That simple kiss had sent a bolt of desire coursing through his body. And she only gotniceout of it? He trailed his free hand down to her hip and cupped her jaw with the other, bringing her closer to him.
“I don’t do nice, remember?”
He crushed his mouth to hers, swallowing her gasp, and as her lips parted in an unspoken invitation, he surged inside. Like a man dying of thirst, he drank her in, desperate for more. She clung to his shoulders as his hands drifted around to her soft, round ass, urging her closer, his erection pressing hard against her hip.
“Dad?”
And just like that, the fire burning between them was doused. Like they’d been hit with a shot of icy water from a hose, they jumped back out of the embrace.
Declan spun to face his son. “Chris, what are you doing out of bed?”
“You said you didn’t know who she was. Mom told me you were lying. She said the naked woman was probably a ball bunny you invited over.”
Unbelievable. Now his ex’s toxicity was spilling over and causing his own son to doubt him. Declan took two steps toward Chris.
“Buddy—” But his son turned and ran back into the mudroom. Declan sighed and glanced over his shoulder, bracing himself for Natalie’s reaction. Would she throw a fit about being interrupted? Tell him to ignore it or wait until morning to talk to Chris?
She stood, wide-eyed, her fingers pressed to her bottom lip. Her gaze pinned to the door his son had bolted through.
“I need to talk to him.”
“Yes.” Natalie nodded.
