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Lilly laughs and it’s so pretty and melodic. I like the way she’s cuddled into me and the city before us is magical… it’s time for another kiss.
My hand goes to her face and I know it’s chilly. With my thumb under her chin, I angle her my way. Her eyes slam into mine and I feel the need to warn her. “This isn’t going to be as sweet as the prior kisses.”
“Bring it,” she breathes out, her words quavering, and God help me, my groin tightens.
I’m so fucking attracted to Lilly but she needs to go slow. I’d reconciled myself that holding hands and soft kisses would be enough, but I’m not so sure now. Lust boils inside me and I need to dispel the tension she’s created just with that breathy demand.
Throwing the blankets off, I stand from the cushioned bench and pull her up with me. Ed Sheeran’s “Thinking Out Loud” is playing and it’s the perfect song.
“Let’s dance,” I say, pulling her into my arms.
Her smile is dazzling as I take one of her hands to hold against my chest, the other arm going around her waist. Holding her close doesn’t stop the insane desire to do dirty things, but I let the romanticism of the moment quell the burn so that I’m in control enough to kiss her.
And not sweetly.
Capturing her mouth with mine, I press into the kiss and my tongue slides between her lips. Lilly opens for me, her breath mingling with mine and her body melting into me. I pull her closer, tilt my head and deepen the kiss as we let the rocking motion of the boat dance for us.
Lilly’s hand tightens on mine, the fingers of her other hand digging into my shoulder. A tiny moan flutters from her mouth and lewd images of me dragging her down to the deck slam through my brain.
Jesus fuck.
I break the kiss, staring down at her. Her eyes are hazy and she licks her bottom lip. My heart beats so hard it echoes in my ears. I don’t know what she sees in my expression, but if it’s any reflection of how my body is feeling, she knows exactly what’s going through my mind right now.
Lilly smiles at me… understanding.
She presses in close and lays her head on my chest. It’s such a sweet, vulnerable move, I’m able to compartmentalize my desire. I take a deep breath and press my lips to the top of her head. This is enough for now but I know damn well it’s not going to be enough for long.
“Will you come to my game tomorrow?” I ask as our bodies sway.
Lilly tips her head back and I can see the conflict in her beautiful eyes. “I’d love to, but that would be two nights away from Aiden.”
“You’re not supposed to be spending nights up at the hospital with Aiden,” I remind her. “You freed up your days so you could spend that time with him.”
“And my evenings were meant for rest,” she says with a pointed look.
“Fair enough. But you can chill out and relax in the owner’s box. Brienne asked me to invite you. A lot of the women you met last week will be there. And I’ll bring you home right after so you’ll get a good sleep.”
Lilly averts her gaze. “I feel guilty.”
I don’t need her to elucidate. “Because Aiden’s in the hospital and you don’t think you should have any fun.”
She nods. “It’s not right.”
“He’d disagree with you. You know that.”
“I know.” She sighs with resignation. “We had a long talk today after you left. He’s far more mature than someone about to turn twelve should be. And he has this romantic notion about you and me—”
“It’s not a notion,” I interject, dipping my head closer to hers. “That’s already established.”
And to prove that point, I kiss her again and I don’t let up. I keep her sunk into it with me, my hands eventually moving to cup her cheeks and her hands gripping my waist.
When I let her up for air, I ask, “Please come to the game tomorrow. After that, I’m going to be gone the next four days to Buffalo for games three and four of the series.”
“Okay,” she drawls as if it’s a tough decision, but her smile gives it away. She’s happy to be asked and the reminder that Aiden wants this as much as I do—and hopefully as much as she does—assuages her guilt.
“Now, tell me about this brother of yours almost turning twelve,” I demand because I had no clue there was an imminent birthday.
“It’s next Tuesday.”
