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“When I was a teenager, I used to sneak out on my roof in the middle of the night with a pillow and a blanket to count shooting stars,” Lyric murmured. “One night, I counted twenty-eight in two hours.”
“That must’ve been incredible.” He could picture her younger, lying on the roof and staring up at the sky. As long as he’d known her, Lyric had seemed observant, curious, and perceptive, taking time to notice things most people didn’t. It was one of the things he admired about her.
“It was incredible,” she continued. “I started stargazing not long after we moved to Wyoming. I was so sad. I missed Kyra and Florida, and I was so mad at my mom and Kenny for everything that had happened.”
“I can’t imagine what that was like.” He’d heard the stories about how Kyra and Lyric had grown up together—best friends until Lyric’s mom and Kyra’s dad had anaffair and ran away to Wyoming. Then, when Kyra’s dad had passed away a few years back, Kyra had come to Star Valley to settle his estate and she’d ended up engaged to Aiden within six months. “I know that had to be a real hard time in your life.” He couldn’t imagine an upheaval like finding out your parent was marrying your friend’s parent and moving you across the country. “But I’m glad you ended up here.”
Lyric cupped her hand around his jaw. “I’m gladweended up here. Right here together. Have you ever seen a view of the sky like this?” She gently turned his head to make him look up.
“I saw that one.” It was quite a sight—a flash of bright light that suddenly disappeared into the darkness.
Lyric pointed to their right. “There’s another one.”
Thatch did his best to watch the sky, but his gaze kept falling back to her face, to the light in her eyes, to the soft smile that kept tempting him to kiss her.
She angled her body to his and draped her arm over his shoulder. “Did you ever see shooting stars in Iowa?”
“I never looked.” He’d been too busy with sports and friends and school and farmwork to ever sit still long enough to watch the night sky. In fact, he’d never liked being still. But this woman was opening him up to a whole new world of possibilities.
“I wasn’t much of a romantic,” he admitted. Even his relationship with Sienna had been more about checking things off his life’s to-do list. Find a great girl. Get married. But he hadn’t spent enough time showing her how he felt. He hadn’t put his heart out there for her to see. If he was being honest with himself, he hadn’t even loved Sienna the way he should’ve loved a woman he was goingto marry. Back then, he hadn’t known how. But he was beginning to see now, to understand that a relationship wasn’t about meeting his own needs. That alone was freeing him from the bitterness he’d held on to.
“I find it hard to believe you weren’t a romantic,” Lyric whispered, her face drawing closer to his. “I mean, this…” Her arm gestured to the space around them. “Is the stuff fantasies are made of.”
“I’m learning.” She was teaching him. Hell, he still had so much to learn, but Lyric made him want to try, to get this right.
“I’m learning too,” she murmured, her lips now grazing his. “And there’s no one else I’d rather learn with.” She kissed him fully, lighting an internal fuse that scorched a path all through him.
Her mouth had already become so familiar to him, and yet the feel of her lips moving with his filled him with a new energy every time. She lightly bit into his bottom lip, and that was new, too, the urgency and desperation and boldness he sensed in her.
Still kissing him, Lyric pushed his shoulder down to the mattress and shimmied her body on top of his, her knees pinning either side of his hips. “You make me very impatient.” She caught his hands in hers and pushed them up over his head, now pinning his hands too. “I don’t know what’s come over me, Thatch, but I want you. Now.”
Just when he thought he couldn’t get harder. “I want you too.” Now. In another hour. Tomorrow morning. Next week.
Always.
Lyric lowered her face to his, a seductive smile shimmering on her lips, and kissed her way from his mouthdown his jaw to the spot under his ear that made him writhe with need. She slid her tongue down his neck and released his hands, using hers to pull his shirt over his head. “I should probably check on those bruised ribs.” She trailed her tongue down his chest, kissing and licking, making him grip the sleeping bag in his fists.
“They’re looking much better.” Her voice was a low hum against him. Then there were more kisses moving lower down his abs.
Lyric ripped open the button fly of his jeans and shoved the denim down impatiently along with his boxer briefs, exposing him; if he wasn’t careful, he was going to lose himself real quick.
“Time out.” He patted around for his jeans and found a condom in his pocket, turning slightly to get it on in record time. “Now come here.” He urged her to sit upright on him, so he could pull off her sweatshirt and then unclasp her bra and slide it off her shoulders. Then he took his time studying her in the glowing light. “You’re perfection.” He traced his fingers over one breast and then the other, her back arching into his touch.
“I’ve never done this outside.” Lyric lay over him again, her forearms propping her up on either side of him. “It’s freeing. All of it. Being outside under the stars. Being with you.”
“It’s perfect.” He kissed her slower this time, savoring the feel of her skin against his, fighting the mad rush of his blood. Moving his hands along the curve of her waist, he slowly peeled her leggings down. Lyric took over then, shifting and thrashing her legs until she kicked the pants off somewhere at the bottom of the sleeping bag.
Now there was nothing between them, only the heatof their bodies together, the silkiness of her skin on his. Thatch let his hands wander, down her hips, over her butt, his fingers light and teasing.
“God, I need you,” she whimpered, shifting her hips over him until he was fully inside her. “I’ve never been this needy.”
And he’d never had to fight so hard to maintain control. “You can have me.” She could have all of him.
Thatch clasped her hands in his and thrust his hips up, earning a moan from Lyric. That sound alone was enough to edge him too close. He strained against the pull of his body and lifted his hips again. Lyric met the movement with an arch of her back, inviting him deeper. His grip on her hands tightened while they moved in sync, both of their breaths ending in gasps and controlled cries. He didn’t care how he sounded. He only cared that she was as hot and turned on and close as he was.
“Yes, Thatch.” Her fingertips dug into his shoulders while she rode him faster and faster. Her eyes closed, and the last words out of her mouth were unintelligible as her body broke apart on him, everything tightening and then deflating over him with a spent sigh.
Thank. God. Thatch let himself go, his arms holding her tightly against him, the control he’d held on to shattering into a blinding rush that rocked every part of him, leaving him weak and trembling under her weight.
