I wrap my arms around her, leaving a kiss on her head and doing my best to ignore the breeze on my legs.
Especially because she’s pressed right up against me and as much as I try tojust think about baseball, the thought of Evie keeps winning out.
I push her gently away. “I gotta put my pants on. I’m cold,” I tell her, angling myself away from her.
“Why?”
I snort. “Is that just your go-to question? I’m cold because I just went in a freezing stream to free your water wheel.”
She’s quiet for a moment, her lips pursed, before she closes the distance between us, her arms wrapping around my waist and her lips gently brushing along the line of my jaw.
And… there is no way I’m keeping anything a secret now.
Shemustknow.
She’s pressed right up against me, our bodies creating a very enjoyable sort of pressure.
“Is that another not-a-kiss?” I ask.
She blinks up at me. “Only if you want it to be. Or not to be.”
I brush her hair out of her face in that way that always makes her eyes close and her lips part.
“I like calling it a kiss,” I say, my hand falling to the back of her neck so I can feel more than just the passing hint of her lips.
She nods, her face angling up toward mine. “Me too.”
I brush my lips against hers before my brain catches up, my tongue winding into her mouth as her fingers grip my sides and her stomach presses into mine. My dick throbs with the contact, and inside my head I war with myself, reminding the very horny parts of me thatwe are outside. At a party. Down, boy, for Christ’s sake.
Of course, it’s also quite romantic. The plinking of the water wheel drowns out any errant noise from the party, the stars above us twinkling. The water wheel is important to Eve, but it's ultimately nestled in a private little alcove, out of the way unless you're actively seeking it out.
And Eve is really not helping as she pushes her hands underneath my shirt, her fingers digging into the skin of my abs anddriftingplaces.
“Eve,” I murmur, pulling away from her only long enough to say her name.
Her hand brushes very intentionally over my dick.
“Ryder,” she mimics, except while her name on my lips was a plea, my name on hers is like fire through my veins.
“Eve,” I repeat, moving with the intention of taking her hand off my dick but ending up just holding it in place, squeezing her hand tighter around me.
“You’ve taken such good care of me over the past few days,” she says, adding more pressure as her other hand finds the back of my neck and pulls my lips to hers.
And I can’t resist her.
I lean into her, struggling to keep my breathing steady as I slip my tongue into her mouth, desperate to be ever closer to her.
“I kind of want to take care of you too,” she says, as her lips drag along my neck and her fingers glide beneath my waistband. She grabs hold of me, and I lose all my breath, my muscles taut as she pumps me.
I tip my head back as her lips move lower, brushing over my collarbone, my chest, my stomach.
And when I turn my gaze to her again, she’s on her knees in front of me. Her hand continues that languid, indulgent motion along my dick as she opens her mouth, her tongue so faintly grazing the underside of my dick.
“Fuck,” I murmur as she takes me into her mouth, her eyes locked on mine.
I weave my hand into her hair, careful not to push too deep but desperate to hold onto any part of her that I can reach.
Her nails dig into my thighs as her hands roam, every touch sending another shiver down my spine, urging me to rock forward into her mouth.
