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“It’s not my fault my car broke down,” I grumbled. “I was planning on driving you around blindfolded.”
“Thank the Lord for small mercies. I am sure I would have barfed.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. I still have a surprise, so help me with the blankets.”
We gathered the quilts and bag of snacks and walked a fair bit along the dunes, eventually cresting one of the smaller ones. The sky was beginning to dim, but it was clear. It was cold, but not unbearable. Trask helped me spread out the blankets and small picnic I made.
“What is this all about?” he asked, smiling as I tried in vain to pop the champagne. He took it from me and did the honors. Gosh, his hands were huge.
“Nothing!” I said as I poured us each a solo cup full. I licked my lips, tearing my eyes away from his hands. “I just really like you. And I was thinking about what you told me a few weeks ago.”
He held up his hands. “I reserve the right to avoid speaking on anything I may have uttered in my sleep.”
“You do talk a lot, but no, I was talking about a few weeks ago. What you said to me in the bathtub. About the ER bill.”
Trask cleared his throat. “Are you talking about my ill-timed confession that was definitely not meant to be manipulative but I can totally see how it might have come across that way?”
“I love you too.” Well, that wasn’t exactly how I was planning on going about it.
“What was that?”
I cleared my throat. “Words are hard for me—”
“Eliza, you write stories for a living!”
“Yes!Writingthem!” I took a fortifying gulp of my champagne. Then another. And another. “But with writing, I get to sit on the words for a while. I can edit them, change them, and spend time with them. But talking? I can’t erase that. It’s intimidating. But I love you, I want you to know that.”
“How long?”
That threw me off. “Huh?”Words Eliza, use your words.
“How long have you loved me?” He said it quietly, a ghost of a smile crossing his lips.
“I don’t know. I just do. How long have you loved me?” I countered, crossing my arms over my chest.
“When you let me take off your boots.”
“I totally thought you were going to say pants.”
“Come on! I’m not that much of an asshole.”
“No,” I laughed. “You’re not. But maybe that’s when things changed for me.”
“When I took off your pants?”
“No! When I told you about my boots.”
He kissed me. His lips tasted like almond champagne and Trask. “I don’t care when,” he whispered in my ear. “I just like watching you squirm. The only thing I care about is right now.”
This man had no idea the power he held over me. I pushed against him, kissing him hard, biting his lip, and pulling his hair. I swallowed his moan and moved to straddle his lap. His hands grabbed my ass, pulling me against him.
I opened the first few buttons on his henley, pushing his jacket over his shoulders, and ripped the shirt off the moment I could.
He mirrored my movements, pulling off my coat and shirt. “Are you going to be cold?” he asked, kissing down my throat and chest.
“You will keep me warm.”
I felt him smile against my skin. He used his thumb and middle finger to open the back of my bra, quickly throwing the offending garment away. He attacked my nipples. They were already hard because of the cold but he kissed and sucked them until they were almost painfully stiff.
