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I put the potatoes into a bowl and then grab the chicken out of the oven and the green beans from off the stove.
“Everything looks great,” Anson compliments me, and I smile.
“Hopefully it tastes great too!”
Anson refills our wine glasses, and we both start to fill our plates with food. We talk and joke over dinner, getting caught up on everything that’s happened over the last few months. The wine is flowing, and before I know it, we’ve finished one bottle and opened another.
“Want to sit in the living room?” Anson asks, and I nod, feeling a little lightheaded as I stand to follow him.
Anson grabs the remote, putting on a movie I’ve never seen before. I try to pay attention to the plot, but the wine is starting to make everything fuzzy.
I take another sip and find myself moving closer to him on the couch. Anson lifts his arm, wrapping it around my shoulders as I snuggle into his side.
“You’re so warm,” I sigh, and he chuckles.
“Are you cold?”
“Not anymore,” I say as I wrap my arm around his middle.
We’ve never really cuddled like this before. It seemed too dangerous before, and I’m struggling to remember why right now. It feels so right.
I bury my face in his neck, breathing in his scent. He kind of smells like me, and I giggle at the thought.
“What’s so funny?” Anson asks, his voice low and slightly slurred.
I can’t tell if he’s actually slurring, though, or if it’s just in my head.
“You smell like me,” I tell him, laughing harder now.
I can’t remember why that was so funny, and I giggle as I try to figure it out. I pull back slightly to see if Anson thinks it’s as funny as I do, and my laughter cuts off when I realize how close we are.
My breasts are pressed up against his side, and his arm is wrapped around my shoulders, keeping me in place. Our thighs are touching, and there’s something so intimate in the contact.
His warm breath fans over my face, and my eyes drop to his lips. They look so warm and inviting, and I find myself swaying closer to him.
“Lottie,” he whispers, and I nod.
I’m not sure who moves closer to the other first, but I suppose it doesn’t matter. Anson’s lips are on mine, and I wrap my arms around his neck, crushing our chests together. My nipples are standing at attention, eager for the contact with Anson’s strong chest.
“So damn sweet,” he murmurs against my mouth, and his words send a rush of lightning straight to my core.
I need more.
We’re wrapped around each other, and I love it. I’ve never felt anything better in my entire life. I've never felt anything more right in my life. I was meant to be in Anson’s arms.
His kiss tastes like longing with a tinge of desperation, and I wonder if maybe, possibly, he’s wanted this for just as long as I have.
He nips at my bottom lip, and I gasp, giving him the opening he was looking for. His tongue swipes against my bottom lip before it slips inside to tangle with mine, and I moan, my nails digging into his shoulders as I hold on for dear life.
He shifts on the couch, lifting me up easily, and I gasp in shock as I’m placed in his lap. I part my legs reflexively, my knees landing on the couch cushions on either side of him.
“That’s better,” he murmurs, his green eyes dark with need.
As I settle over his hard length, I have to agree.
This is so much better.
My hands find their way into his hair, and I tug him closer, needing his mouth back on mine. He comes willingly, taking over as soon as our lips touch. He deepens the kiss almost immediately, and I sigh, sinking back into him.
