“What?”
“Yeah. You were just… so cute. No. Not cute. Beautiful. But it wasn’t just how you looked. It was your smile. It was how you didn’t let me intimidate you into letting me off easy. You just looked at me and said,I know this is hard. It will be hard. But I’ll be with you the whole time. And you were.”
“I liked you the first day, too,” I admit. “There was just something. And after you stopped coming, I… I missed you.”
“Bea.” Indy’s mouth dips to mine. “I missed you, too.”
I’m caught between crying at the sweetness of the moment and launching myself at Indy because he looks so incredibly sexy.
But launching myself at him sounds a heck of a lot more fun than bursting into tears.
So I twine my arms around his neck and kiss him hard.
I wrap my leg around his, pressing our bodies together.
His now very-evident erection prods my belly.
My core aches.
Need coils deep inside me.
Though I initiated the kiss, Indy quickly takes over. Capturing my mouth, plunging inside, and tangling his tongue with mine.
His hand leaves my cheek and moves to my hips, where the hem of my skirt is currently resting. His fingers trail along my bare skin, leaving tingles of heat in their wake. He breaks the kiss to murmur huskily, “I really like this dress, you know. Especially likethis.”
“You mean with it up around my hips?”
“Yes.” Those magic fingers move closer to the apex of my thighs. And I’m suddenlyveryglad I decided to do some extra grooming, just in case.
One finger brushes across the silky fabric of my panties.
The very damp fabric, I’m realizing.
Indy’s eyes turn nearly black. “Is this because of me?”
I giggle. “It’s not because of Jenga.”
His lips quirk. “I’ve heard of sex Jenga. With positions and stuff written on each piece.”
My core clenches. “That sounds… fun.”
“It does.” Indy kisses me again. “Maybe next time. For now, though… I don’t need a game. I just want to take my time exploring you.”
Oh.
I reach between his legs again, this time unfastening the button and pulling the zipper of his jeans down. “Exploring sounds nice.”
“It does,” Indy agrees. Then he rocks back on his legs and gazes down at me. And even though I’m lying here exposed,with my skirt hiked up to my waist and my panties so wet they’re basically see-through, I don’t feel a moment’s self-consciousness.
But as he reaches for me, he stops midway, uncertainty flickering in his gaze.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. All the things I used to worry about when I was with a guy—are my boobs too small, are my hips too wide, are my implants showing—nudge at me. “Did I do something?”
“No.” It’s immediate. Adamant. “No, Bea. You’re perfect. It’s just…” On an exhale, he glances at his prosthetic. “It might be weird for you. With this. Whether I take it off or leave it on, it won’t feel normal.”
Oh.
My heart.
