I want to do all of those things, and I will.
But I also want to absorb each perfect moment of this. I want to memorize the curves and dips of Hazel’s body, and the sweet pink shade of hernipples. I want to spend minutes, hours, even, cataloguing every freckle, every tiny scar, each tiny detail that makes Hazelher.
I want to look at my gorgeous girlfriend—yes, my girlfriend, how unexpectedly awesome is that—as she’s stretched out across the bed like a priceless offering.
She’s only wearing a pair of black, lacy panties that don’t do much to cover anything. Especially when the fabric is dark with her desire and her legs are spread apart in invitation.
Her breasts are perfect; plump and full and pink-tipped, rising and falling rapidly as she looks at me. Her cheeks are flushed with anticipation and her eyes are a dark, stormy blue.
As I’m looking at Hazel, she draws her lower lip between her teeth. Her gaze drags down my chest and below my waist, lingering there. Heat flares in her eyes.
Shit.
How am I supposed to appreciate the moment when she looks at me likethat?
“Alec?” Her voice is husky. But there’s a hint of uncertainty to it, too.
“What, Haze?”
“Have you changed your mind?” The flush on her cheeks grows deeper. “Or do you not like?—”
Shit.
What kind of idiot am I?
While I’m standing at the end of the bed, admiring Hazel’s body, she’s been wondering if I’m having second thoughts. Or if there’s something about her incredible body that disappoints me.
I climb onto the bed and brace myself over her. Then I capture her mouth with mine, kissing her until she’s pink-cheeked for all the right reasons. “I have not changed my mind,” I tell her. “Not even for a second. And there isnothingabout you I don’t like.”
“Oh.” She lets out a relieved breath. “I just wasn’t sure. It’s been a long time…”
“Haze. Sweetheart.” I cup her cheek with my hand. “I was standing there thinking about how gorgeous you are. And all the things I want to do to you.”
“Okay.” Her lips lift. “That’s okay, then.”
“Look at me.” I lean back a little. “Does it look like I’m not interested in you? That I don’t want you?”
Hazel touches my erection, trailing her cool fingers across my heated skin. “No. It doesn’t look”—her smile expands—“or feel like that.”
“No. It shouldn’t. Because I want you very,verymuch.”
Her hand wraps around me. “I want you very,verymuch, too.”
I kiss her again. “Then we should probably do something about that, shouldn’t we?”
“I think we should,” she agrees. After a beat, she adds, “I knew you were muscly. From all the sexy T-shirts you wear. But I didn’t know you werethismuscly.”
I kiss a line down her neck and to her collarbone, then pause to ask, “My sexy T-shirts? How can a T-shirt be sexy?”
“T-shirts can be very sexy. Especially when the sleeves are all tight around your biceps. And I can see how broad your shoulders are, and sometimes when you stretch I can see a peek of your stomach.”
My erection jumps. “So you were watching me, huh?”
Hazel blushes. “Sometimes.” A beat, and then, “Even though I told myself I wanted to stay single, I still thought you were the most handsome man I’d ever seen. And that it couldn’t hurt to admire you.”
“Haze.”
My heart hurts a little to think of Hazel so alone for all those years. Yes, she had Frank and Wendy. And the employees at Blissful Brews. But that wasn’t the same as a close group of friends. Or a family she could turn to when she needed help or was struggling.
