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That’s what I need to reach for.
But instead of doing what Ishoulddo, I hook my fingertips into the front pocket of his jeans and give a little pull.
He lets me pull him in.
My hand wanders from his pocket to his chest. The plane of his pecs is so warm and hard. The cotton of his black t-shirt is soft, thin and worn. I can feel his heart beating.
When I tilt my face up, his warm breath washes over me.
“It took you long enough,” he whispers.
“It did, didn’t it?”
“Man, Gem. I’ve wanted this.” His warm, strong hand curls around my hip, and guides me closer.
“It might not be the best idea,” I whisper, as my stomach flips and my heart flutters. “Because of our history, and—” I let my hand skim up toward his neck. His bare skin under my fingertips makes me want to melt into a puddle. I feel the wavy ends of his blond hair, down at the base of his neck.
I can’t breathe.
His lips are inches from mine.
“Can you—can you kiss me?” he murmurs, “because if you don’t, I might—”
“Might what?”
“I don’t know. Go insane, I think.”
“Then I better kiss you.”
“Yeah,” he whispers into my mouth, just before our lips touch.
I thought I found heaven earlier. In the bar, when he fed me that crazy-good cheese.
But no, that wasn’t heaven.
Thisis it.
Right now, with his soft, warm lips pressed to mine.
Here, in this dark parking lot with twinkling lights of the bar off to the side and a sleepy country town’s Main Street ten feet away.
Here, with our shoes touching and his hands on my hips, mine wrapped around his neck. Our bodies are fused together, and our mouths collide and search and taste.
As we kiss, we step backwards together.
I feel the cold, hard metal of the truck against my back. Parker’s lips move against mine, and my brain, for once, isn’t talking to me.
I’m feeling, Not thinking.
And the feelings coursing through me like a tsunami are delicious and delightful.
When we part, we’re both breathless.
“So—the grab bar?” I stammer, as I peel myself away from the cold metal of the truck and hitch my purse on my shoulder.
He chuckles. “Yeah.”
He returns to his earlier position at the passenger door and waits as I hoist myself up into my seat. Then he leans in and pulls at the seatbelt and fits it into place. He braces an arm against the console, and his thick, hard biceps flex. “You good?”
