He pressed his face to the crook of my shoulder and stayed there a moment, just breathing while his thumb moved in slow, steady circles around my nipple. If he knew he controlled every muscle in my body from that single point of contact, he didn’t show it.
“Tell me,” I whispered.
“This is better,” he said, his lips on my temple. “God, it’s so much better.”
I wanted to push on his chest and force him to look around and realize that we were making out on the floor, fully clothed. He wasn’t allowed to have so much reverence for this. But he was right. It was so much better than anything else we’d shared up to this point. I didn’t know if that was due to gaining some privacy or not caring about the lines we were crossing but I wanted to keep going and never, ever look back because it was so much better than anything I’d ever experienced withanyone. I didn’t know my body could feel this way, like an avalanche and the sunrise and a cannonball dive into cold water all at once.
“I know.” I tilted my head back to catch his lips in a kiss. “Iknow.”
Then he ruined everything by saying, “We should stop.”
I pushed against his chesthard. I knew my nails had no impact on the granite slab of his pecs but I dug in regardless. Pinched, even if he didn’t feel it. “What?”
He blew out an enormous breath and cut his gaze to the side. “The dogs, Sunny. We should walk them now because if we stay here another minute, I won’t let you go the rest of the night.”
“Oh.” I pinched a little harder. “They’re fine. They don’t need a walk.”
“Hey. Ow.” He batted my fingers away and blinked like he was having trouble translating my words into a language he understood. “But—you said—”
“Yes, I did.” I shimmy-shuffled out from underneath him and settled on my knees, a little breathless, a lot flushed. From being pinned under the granite slab but also from the otherworldly things he’d done withonethumb ononenipple. “I said that and it’s true that I often walk them in the evenings. But something I didn’t mention is that they have a dog door to come and go as they wish, and the backyard is fully fenced, and while they’d love to go on a stroll-and-sniff, they can do without tonight.”
He sat back on his heels and ran a hand over his mouth. He was no more than two feet away but this sudden burst of distance came at me like gulps of water, too much, too fast. He was breathing hard and flexing his hands by his sides, and his hair was just like his eyes, wild and everywhere at once. His trousers stretched across his massive thighs, across that impossibly thick shaft—and all at once I was dizzy,dizzyand hot, and we weren’t even touching each other.
“My god, you are such a little brat.”
The rough laugh in his words was enough to get me moving. I pushed to my feet and ran a finger around the waist of my wrap skirt, over the knot that gave him so much trouble. Gathered up all the audacity I could fit in my hands. “The bedroom is this way.”
For a big guy, he was quick on his feet. I was barely across the hall when his hands closed on my hips and his heat came around me like a cloak. “You don’t get to say things like that,” he growled into my neck.
I pushed open the door to my bedroom, a space that barely fit a queen-sized bed and a slim dresser but in the morning, drowned in gorgeous, gentle slants of sunlight. “And why is that?”
“Because I am already clinging to the edge here and I don’t think I’ll survive if you turn out to be as mouthy as I’d dreamed.”
He gathered my hair in one hand and dragged his lips over the back of my neck. He was unhurried about it yet frantic at the same time, kissing and tasting but also tightening that grip on my hair and rattling out low growls as he went.
But then he peeled away from me, let my hair fall. He was silent for longer than I could handle in moments made entirely of heartbeats and I shifted to face him. “What?” I asked, a touch of acid in my tone.
Beck took a few steps away from me but paused, his eyes narrowed as he glanced around my room. He dragged a hand over the blanket folded on the foot of my bed. He looked away, tipping his head as if he was trying to hear something. Then, “It smells like you. In here, it smells like you.”
He sounded like he’d finally figured out a puzzle that had plagued him for years, a little dreamy, a little relieved. But it was such a strange thing to say. I didn’t wear perfume. Most of my products were unscented. No one had ever said anything like that to me before and I had to ask, “Is that a good thing?”
He cut his gaze back to me with a deep nod as he tugged the curtains together. Though it made no sense, he moved around my room as if he’d always been here, closing my curtains at night and scooting between the wall and the bed as if he knew this two-step backward and forward. He kicked off his shoes in the corner like he did it every night. Like it was his spot. “Very much.”
“Okay,” I started, crossing my arms over my chest, “so, what do I smell like?”
“Remember that flowerpot?” He scooped up the stack of books on my bedside table and glanced at each cover, stopping to frown and arch his brows more than once. His interest in the celebrity tell-all memoirs would fit on the head of a pin but he paused to read the back cover of all my romances. Gave several appreciative nods. Held a few up with sharp stares that seemed to sayWe’ll talk about this later.I could hardly wait for those conversations. “The one I dropped to prevent you from cracking your skull open?”
“All of this is debatable but yes, I remember the flowerpot. Fondly.”
“You smell like that.” He put the books down and shoved his fingers through his hair. “The only thing I can say is that every time I’m near you, all I can think about is gardens and herbs, and”—he shot a resigned glance at the floor—“it does something to my head. Sometimes I notice it when you’re not around and I drive myself crazy trying to figure out where it’s coming from but I never can. I’m just—I don’t know. I’m kind of obsessed with it. With…” His gaze settled on me. “Well.”
“Oh.” The word gusted out of me.
“Yeah.” He laced his fingers around the back of his neck but quickly abandoned that position and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Why are you all the way over there?”
“I’m not all the way anywhere,” I said. “This room, it’s quite small.”
He shook his head like those details were irrelevant to him, and held out a hand. “Still too far away.”
