She picked up one that rested on his nightstand. She was working her way through the first chapter when she heard Decker’s footsteps.
She could picture the way his shoulders swayed slightly with each step, as if his body gave off too much energy to hold still.
When he opened the door and saw her there, his eyes went wide with surprise.
She took in his appearance. Dark hair that had grown a bit longer at the front now fell across his forehead in a way that made her fingers itch to brush it back.
He was dressed for a night out, and she was dressed for a night in.
The contrast made her hyperaware of how different their evenings had been. While she’d been curled up watching romantic comedies, he’d been out with her brothers, probably nursing a beer and deflecting flying bottles and endless teasing.
“You look good.” Her voice came out softer than she intended. “Very…not like someone who just survived a bachelor party with my brothers.”
A smile tugged at the corner of his perfectly hard lips. “They went easy on me. Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“Let’s just say I now know every embarrassing story about Denver from the past decade.” He stepped closer and held out a plate wrapped in plastic wrap. “You look beautiful.”
“You brought me cake?”
“Mmhmm.”
“How did you know you were going to see me tonight?”
“I thought I’d text you and invite you over for cake. But you’re already here.” He ended on a soft rumble that had her thighs clenching.
Her gaze clung to his for a drawn-out heartbeat.
She pulled off the plastic film to examine the frosting. She twisted her head left and right. “Is that…a woman’s thigh? In fishnet stockings?”
He chuckled, low and deep. The sound sent flickers of heat over her skin. “Yeah. The cake was a pinup girl drawn in frosting.”
She swiped her finger through the sweetness and brought it to her lips. Decker’s chest rumbled on a groan.
She knew she was getting to him. She hoped that he wouldn’t be able to keep up this small talk and would rip off her clothes.
But he seemed bent on talking. “How—”
She licked her finger clean.
“How was the movie marathon?” he choked out.
“Long.” She bit down on her bottom lip, cake forgotten. “I kept thinking about you.”
The honesty in her admission seemed to hit him like a physical blow. His jaw tightened, and she could see the careful control he’d been maintaining start to fray around the edges.
“Willow…” Her name came out rough, like a warning.
The sound he made was something between a groan and a growl. Before she could react, he was kissing her, backing her against the wall and trapping her with his chiseled body.
She moaned into his mouth, swirling her tongue over his and gathering the flavor of beer and something spicy that was all Decker.
She anchored her fingers in his shoulders, dragging him closer, aching for more of him.
“Christ, love.” He cupped her face and plundered her mouth until her knees threatened to buckle. She plucked at his buttons blindly as she kissed him back with all the fervor blazing inside her.
One hand slid lower, palmed her throat briefly—just weight, just claim—before skimming to her waist. He bunched the hem of her sweatshirt in his fist and tugged it lightly up, callused fingertips grazing her flesh as the soft cloth whispered over her ribs. His thumbs caressed the sides of her breasts through the thin lace of her bra. Her nipples tightened immediately.
