“Yeah,” he said, his eyes warmer now. “I can handle that.”
She hesitated. “And it’s not—there aren’t other women, are there? I don’t want to be one of many.”
“No.” He looked at her unflinchingly. “There’s no one else, Lily. Just you and me.”
Something inside her softened. Relief, yes, that there was noone else, but also something deeper that she didn’t want to examine just yet.
He leaned in, his broad frame blocking out the kitchen light. So close she could smell the cold winter air and lingering woodsmoke clinging to him, and a flash of heat surged through her, making her knees wobbly. “If our chemistry’s any indication,” he said, his voice a husky murmur near her ear, “we’re going to have a real good time together.”
Her breath hitched. The weekend at the cabin flashed hot and fast through her mind. The idea of more of that was so far out of her neat and tidy norm… and yet, maybe that was the point.
She wanted to be that free-spirited, braver version of herself. The one who chose bigger, bolder moves instead of swallowing herself whole to keep everyone else comfortable.
He raised a hand to her cheek and brushed his fingers along her jaw. “I’ve missed kissing you, Lily.”
Her mouth opened then closed again, along with her eyes. Kissing Rush had been almost obsessively on her mind the last month. The way he was so sure in touching her, knowing her body in a way that she was just beginning to understand. The idea of exploring that was seductive. Liberating. Dangerous. Thrilling.Fun. Very un-Lily-like. And maybe that was exactly the point.
It didn’t get more real than spending a few months with Rush Callahan—taking what she wanted instead of what was expected. Heat flushed through her, and her mind crowded with X-rated images of his mouth on hers, the slow grind of his hips, the rough drag of his hands down her spine. God, she still wanted him.
She licked her lips without thinking. His eyes tracked the motion like a hawk.
Her brain short-circuited, melting straight into a puddle ather feet. Just like that, the memories of tasting whiskey on his lips and the scrape of his mustache over her skin flooded her.
And he knew exactly what he was doing.
He lifted his gaze slowly, a crooked, slow-burn smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“I’m not usually like that,” she blurted before she could stop the confession. Heat climbed her throat. “That weekend… the cabin. It was…” She swallowed. “I don’t just… I don’t usually…”
Rush’s eyes went a deep, smoky gray. “Maybe it was more you than you think,” he said softly. “Either way, I’ll count myself lucky it was me you let loose with.”
He draped his arm along the back of her stool, shirt stretching over muscle, crowding her with heat and intent. She was way out of her league again.
Her fingers curled against the countertop.Neathad been her safe zone for years. The polite smile when she wanted to scream. The yes when she meant no, years of swallowing her needs to keep everyone else comfortable. Always doing the “right” thing.
But the cabin had cracked something open in her. For one wild, breathless weekend, she’d wanted without apology, and on the way back down the mountain, she’d promised herself she wouldn’t go back.
Do the real thing, not the right thing.Even if it scared her.
And nothing felt more real than Rush Callahan.
“Okay,” she heard herself say unsteadily. “We’ll just… enjoy this. Until Boston?”
He dipped his head, his lips brushing dangerously close to hers, close enough to make her sway. “Until Boston,” he murmured, then his hand slid to the back of her neck, drawing her inexorably toward him, and then he kissed her.
Not tentatively or carefully. His mouth claimed hers in a way that made her think of all the other places she’d like to feelthat kiss again. Sparks that had teased for weeks went up like dry tinder catching fire. It was slick heat and teeth and tongue, his mouth devouring her while she pressed against him until she was more in his lap than on her own stool. The counter pressed against her hip as she leaned into him, hard muscles against soft curves. His other hand settled low on her hip, urging her closer, closer to all that fire.
He slid off the stool and dragged her off with two firm hands on her hips, settling her against him as he leaned back and kissed her deeply. He tasted like sweet, hot trouble—bold and dangerous, and oh so tempting.
She moaned into his mouth, her hips moving restlessly against his to chase more friction. She wanted him deeper, harder, her hips making tiny, pulsing moves, anything to ease the ache he’d left her with since that last kiss on the mountain. When his tongue swept deeper, she met him with a sharp, needy suck that had him groaning deep in his chest.
His hands skimmed up and cupped her breasts through her dress while she arched into his palms. She tugged at his shirt, frantic for skin, for more, for all of him. Suddenly, the last month melted away, and she was right back to those long, uninhibited hours they had spent exploring each other in bed.
She rose on her toes, threading her fingers through the crisp hair at the back of his neck, leaning her breasts fully against his hard-muscled chest. Her nipples tightened at the delicious contact and budded, a tiny sting of want, and she rubbed herself against him again, yearning for more.
He dropped his hands to her ass, pulling her into him until she felt his steel length imprinted against her, and she whimpered, rubbing herself against him shamelessly.
Her bottom and hips felt the draft of cool air before her mind realized what was happening. She looked down to find her dress pulled up to the tops of her thighs, leavingher black tights-covered legs exposed in the bright kitchen light. She looked up, suddenly shy again, only to stop, mesmerized by the look on Rush’s face as he took in her body.
