"Just so you know," she murmured against my mouth, "if we roll out of this thing, I'm totally blaming you."
The idea was so ludicrous, I had to laugh. "What, you're expecting turbulence?"
"Hey, you never know."
"How's this for turbulence?" I said, tipping us sideways until she was laughing beneath me.
"It's a good start," she giggled. "But it'd be even better if we were naked."
"Hey,I'mhalf naked already." I pulled back to meet her gaze as my hands slid down her sides. "You know what this means?"
"What?"
"I've got some making up to do." I skimmed my fingers beneath the hem of her shirt, savoring the warmth of her skin and the way she arched into my palms as my hands followed her curves.
Her eyes smoldered into mine as I eased the fabric upward.
"Arms," I murmured.
She lifted them without hesitation, and I slid the shirt free, tossing it aside. For a long moment, I just looked. The lacy white bra was delicate and unexpected – simple and somehow devastating against her skin.
My breath caught at the sight of her. "Well…this feels wildly unfair."
She smiled. "To whom?"
"Mostly my self-control?"
"Mostly?"
"Okay,allmy self-control."
"Oh, I dunno…" she said. "You looked pretty controlled to me."
Sure, I looked it. But I didn't feel it – not when she lay there beneath me, watching me watch her, not when the heat between us pulsed with every rise and fall of her chest.
I let out a low breath. "You realize you're doing this on purpose."
"Hey, I'm just laying here, minding my own business." But then, a moment later, she wasn't.
Her hand slid down my stomach until her fingers found the button of my jeans. Her touch was fumbling but determined, and the instant the button gave way, the urgency between us sharpened, like we'd just crossed the same invisible line.
I shifted closer, kissing her again as laughter gave way to heat, and our hands moved everywhere, tugging and fumbling and not caring how graceful it looked.
The blanket twisted beneath us. Fabric slid away. And a zipper might've protested. It didn't stop anything.
It wasn't elegant. It wasn't coordinated. It was urgent and clumsy and exactly right. Soon, both of us were naked, skin to skin. Her hands were everywhere – warm and exploring – while mine followed instinct more than thought.
I traced her curves, as if I could relearn her body by touch alone. She responded by pulling me closer and rolling us again, this time so she was on top. "If we don't hurry, I might lose my mind."
I reached between us, feeling her heat and slickness, proving the truth of what she'd said. And already, she was guiding me into her, lowering her hips until our bodies finally met.
For a moment, she stayed there, her forehead resting against mine as we savored the moment like the calm before a storm.
I lifted my hands to her back, smoothing over warm skin, memorizing the way she felt beneath my palms, warm and sweet, and very real. She shivered at the touch while her hips slowly rocked and mine rose to meet her.
As our gazes held, something shifted between us. It wasn't the heat of it. That was still there, pulsing and demanding. But there was something else – deeper, better, and inevitable.
She kissed me, slower this time, not frantic, but certain.
