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“No, you weren't.”
“It was a spur of the moment. We were dying and you were being a chivalrous idiot.”
“You loved it. You loved it so much that you were going to kiss me there.”
“You are such a bastard.”
She pushed him, but he was so sturdy in his spot that she ended up unbalancing herself. All amusement left him as he bent forward to catch her, the relief sharp when his grip didn’t slip. He swung her back up, then pulled her legs around him to lock her in place. This time, she didn’t pull them away.
“Stop falling for me,” he teased lightly, his hand coasting down her shivering back.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she shot back, voice frayed. Tense.
“I can't help it.”
“Then help it.”
He breathed on her cheek, then over her lips. He wrenched her even closer and took what those parted lips offered, a temptation that could no longer be fought. A gasp got stuck somewhere in her throat where his thumb caressed and her mouth opened for him.
“Tell me a word,” he pleaded desperately, his free hand fisting on her clothes to avoid touching her skin. “Tell me no and I will keep my hands off you immediately.”
Her gasp turned into a sigh while his mouth kept moving over hers. When his tongue skimmed inside, she muttered something unintelligible.
“I need a word, Em. Not those delicious sounds you make.”
“Rick.”
The soft hitch made his cock harden so much. He groaned.
“Not my name. Not…”
But she was kissing him back, her mouth a ripe temptation that responded to his ministrations. She tasted as delicious as the last kiss, even more so now that he knew her better and was sure of how much he wanted this. When her tongue lightly tapped his, all blood drained downward.
“Fuck. Damn it.”
“Don’t curse.”
A broken laugh erupted from him. “I can’t help it.”
“Help it.”
But she didn’t ask him to stop kissing her. She didn’t pull away either, her head tilting in rhythm with his—and just like that, he knew he had lost the battle of not touching her as his hand stopped fisting and his palm opened over her thigh. It was cold, but it quivered at the contact. His fingers danced over her, unable to stop now that he could shift the wet clothes aside until he could touch more, more…
“You’re so reckless,” she said, even while her neck arched to receive his kisses there. “So…”
“I know.” When he parted her top, it was to the crazy realization that her last slip barely covered her tits and he could see their outline so clearly. Stiff nipples stubbornly clung to that wet slip. His thumb brushed one, then two until a moan keened out of her. With another curse, he kissed her again.
“Quiet. I don’t want anyone interrupting this. Can’t have that.” But he didn’t stop teasing her tits, didn’t stop fantasizing about having them in his mouth. “Or never mind being quiet. You can moan in my mouth. You can bite me if you want to scream.”
“What—oh. Rick.”
He expected another resistance and was stunned when her legs parted to accommodate his knuckles grazing her panties. When he nudged it aside, she quivered once more, stilling.
“Shh. I got you.” A finger skated in and he had to bite back a riper, louder swear word. “You’re wet.”
“It’s raining.”
And stubborn. “Is that so?”
