We stayed like that for a while, a mashup of tender and hurried, until I broke free and grumbled, “I wasn’t expecting this. My life is complicated, and I wasn’t seeking this—”
“Me either.”
Her eyes were half closed, long lashes peeking out, hair a mess, and she looked stunning. And fucking sexy when she interrupted me. I wasn’t looking, but I couldn’t help being happy I’d stumbled upon whatever this moment was.
My lips found their way to her neck, nipping and kissing a lavish path to her clavicle. I breathed in and she breathed out. I was more in sync with this chick than anyone I’d ever met. Her hand slid under my shirt, and I reached back and yankedthe shirt over my head, losing contact between her skin and my mouth.
“Okay?” I checked in, and then slipped my palm under her shirt, smoothing it over her flat belly until she mimicked my action and tugged her shirt off.
I kissed her and then started to move down her body, leaving a trail of kisses along the way. With my knees on the carpet and my head above her navel, I took a chance and glanced up at Wren, her head tossed back, smiling and seemingly enjoying a small moment of ecstasy. Until I tugged on the zipper to her jeans and she sat up in a huge hurry.
With her jeans splayed open, she said, “Shit,” and shoved her face into her hands.
It’d felt like she wanted this, but my heart started to pound and my pulse ratcheted.
“Oh, God. Sella said this would happen…”
“Um, is everything okay? I thought you were into this, but if not, I understand.” I stumbled over my words, which was not a regular habit for me.
Wren looked down toward her jeans and blew out a long breath. I couldn’t help but look at the same time and my eyes were greeted by mint green cotton panties the color of ice cream, covered in shamrocks and the wrong day of the week—Wednesday. There was no avoiding the smile overtaking my face. I felt it all the way to my eyes.
“I didn’t expect this,” she said, standing, trying to zip her jeans with one hand and flapping her free arm between the two of us.
I stood and stilled her. With my light grasp on her shoulders, she stopped all her extra movement, so my hands came down to take her fingers in mine. “It’s pretty cute.” I let go of her grip and brought my palm to her abdomen, tracing the top of her panties with my pinky. “Cutest fecking thing I ever did see.”
“Ugh,” she grumbled. “At least this is more evidence—partying, picking up boys and going home with them is not part of my agenda.”
“Who said anything about a boy?”
“That’s not what I meant…you know…I mean…er…”
She couldn’t help stopping and starting her words as my pinky slowly traversed inside her panties, running along the top of her hair. “Good thing I know today isn’t Wednesday, but I do like the luck of the Irish theme.”
My finger dipped lower, catching her small bundle of nerves, deep inside her underwear. With her eyes closed, she moaned, and I flicked the tiny nub again. It was warm, wet, and inviting where my hand traversed.
“Daniel.”
My name was a whoosh on her breath. I didn’t want to admit how much I liked it or dare ask why she was saying it. With my lips pressed to her forehead, my pants straining against my hardness, I pulled my hand out and started zipping up her pants.
“I’m going to take you home now,” was all I whispered.
This girl was affecting me beyond measure, and I needed to contain myself. She looked at me, mouth in a half pout, seemingly confused and hurt. I wanted to take every centimeter of her confusion away. I’d never wanted to make it all better with anyone before—Christ, I’d never shared nachos with someone either. My dad would lose his shit. The calories, the germs, the risks…he was a micromanager to the nth degree.
My lips lingering close to Wren’s forehead finally broke free when I glanced down at my dog fast asleep at her feet. I tried to break the tension and provide some comic relief. “Brutus is being better behaved than me.”
Her hand came up to touch her own lips, all puffy from mine earlier. I wanted to pound my chest and say,You’re going to be mine.A new feeling for me. A first, for sure. And not a welcomeone. So instead of going American caveman, I straightened my shirt and laughed aloud again.
“You’re thinking of them, aren’t you?”
It was the tension getting to me, but I went with her perception. “They’re perfect,” I said, taking her hand in mine. “My favorite color, and let’s say Ireland is close enough to Scotland, so meant for me.”
“Come on,” she said, play-punching my arm.
I couldn’t help laughing again. We’d fallen into an easy banter. And not going to lie, I liked it. But I wasn’t going to be able to restrain myself for much longer, so I stood and held out a hand for her.
“It’s not goodbye, it’s hello,” I whispered in her ear when I stood, despite not being sure I could keep the promise.
She looked at me, and her lashes fell down over her eyes.
