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“Should I worry about Bells?”
“Yes.”
Shane let out a quick bark of laughter. “Nice.”
“Her signature song is ‘Barracuda.’ Does that say anything?”
“You’re lying.”
“Maybe.”
He skimmed his palm along the barely-there fabric at her back. From across the room it was dangerous enough, but up close, he saw just how transparent it was. There was some sort of slip thing beneath it, but a man had to be paying attention to see it.
“I was tempted to tie a boulder to Brandon and toss him in the lake.”
“What?” She laughed up at him. “Why?”
“Because he was looking at you like you were the most appetizing thing in the entire room.”
“And that’s bad?”
“Hell no. You’re the most beautiful woman in the room. Period.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh.”
Pretty words didn’t come easy to him, but he wanted to find them for her. Loving her was one of the easiest and hardest things he’d ever done.
“Hey, you guys,” Bells yelled from the corner of the room. She was standing on a chair, her hand on Kain’s shoulder. Kain was grinning up at her. “It’s countdown time!”
“Uh-oh.”
Shane looked down at her. “What?”
“I hope Kain’s ready for Bells. I have a feeling she’s going to plant one on him.”
“Yeah?” He grinned. It would serve Kain right if Bells shook him up. Kain was far too used to getting whatever he wanted. “I think he can handle it. Besides, I’m only interested in planting one on you.”
“Is that right?”
Chants of twenty, nineteen, eighteen blurred in his mind as he lowered his mouth to hers. He couldn’t wait until the final countdown to one. Her usual apple flavor was missing. In its place was the heady scent of flowers that matched her petal-soft lips. He’d meant to keep the kiss easy and gentle, but when her arms wound around his neck and she slipped her fingers through his hair, he lost himself in her.
She tasted of sweet wine and Kendall. He bent her back with the force of the kiss, and he didn’t give a good goddamn about the whooping crowd. He lifted her off her feet, slanting his mouth along hers.
The room erupted into laughter, the crank of cheap New Year’s toys, and paper trumpets. He set her down, and she backed her way through the people, only eyes for him. She led him upstairs.
There were people on the stairs taking advantage of the shadows. He and Kendall wove around them and up to the second floor. She took a right and then a left down a skinny hallway that led to a tiny room.
He frowned. “Is this your room?” It was a closet. Not an exaggeration. The room couldn’t be formally named a bedroom.
“I gave up my bedroom for B and B space. I only crash here. It’s going to be a bit of a tight fit, but we’re used to tight fits, aren’t we, Oscar?”
Instead of focusing on what her room lacked, he zeroed in on the long, skinny mattress. She scooted back on the bed. Her shoulder glittered in the dim light of her bedside lamp. The large keyhole cutout between her breasts showed curves unencumbered by a bra.
He nosed the material aside, sliding his knee between her legs as he pressed her into the bed. Groaning against her tight little nipple, he twirled his tongue around the tip.
Her nails scraped along his scalp as she shifted under him until the zipper of his dress pants met with her panties. He tugged the stretchy material of her skirt up, anxious to touch her. For the last week he’d contented himself with kisses, determined to see if there was more than just sex between them.
At this point he wasn’t sure if the passion fed the love or the love fed the passion. All he knew was that he was tired of questioning it.
