“You asked me what my type is.” His mouth met my ear. “You’remy type, little viper.”
I shook my head. “No, I–I can’t be your type,” I whispered. Tears swelled in my eyes at the overwhelming rush of emotions I felt climbing up my spine.
This can’t be real.
He tilted his head, watching me with those jeweled eyes. “And why’s that?”
“Because I–I—” I tried to pull away, but he held me still. “Let me go!”
He smirked. “Always running.” His mouth hovered over mine. “Give me one good reason to let you go, Lucille.” A single tear fell from my eye and rolled down my cheek into his palm.
My lips parted ever so slightly as he remained close. My heart raced within my chest, and I struggled to focus my thoughts and steady my breathing. “Because…I’m broken. And no matter how much you try, you can’t fix me.” His breath coasted my face, and I caught myself wanting to continue.
“Who said I wanted to fix you? I think you’re just fine the way you are.”
He’s not making this any easier.
I licked my lips and whispered his name. “Forsythe.”
“I’ll never get tired of hearing you say my name.” His mouth was so close. “If you want me to stop, then give a reason. One reason, Lucille, and I’ll let you go.” His eyes stared so intensely into mine, I could feel them peeking into my soul, begging me to let him in. “Even if it kills me to see you walk away.” His fingers brushed along the back of my neck and tangled through my hair. His grasp tightened as he pulled my head back even more with a gentle roughness. “You’re the one in control.”
Control. It was probably the one thing I lacked in this exact moment. I wanted to let him in and surrender myself to this moment, but I knew if I did, it would ruin whatever relationship we already had. And then what? Do we pretend nothing happened? Or do we become something else entirely? Could I live with the aftermath?
“Even if I wanted to, we can’t.” I gasped, struggling to focus as he stood so close. “It’s too complicated. I don’t want to think about tomorrow.”
He smirked. “Then stop thinking and just let yourself live in the moment.” His mouth pressed against my neck. “Give yourself this moment, Lucille. Forget everything else in this world and simply live.”
“Aren’t you worried I’ll end up regretting this?” I asked. “That I’ll end up hating you for real?”
Forsythe pulled back and brushed my hair aside, tucking it behind my ear. “Do you think you’ll regret this?”
“I–I don’t know. But I think I’ll regret it if I don’t do as you say and give myself this moment.” My chin tilted towards him as I stared back with hungry eyes. “But if we wake up tomorrow and find ourselves as we once were, you have no one to blame but yourself.” My heart raced with anticipation. “Can you live with that?”
Say yes.
Forsythe smirked. “I know I said your venomous words had no effect on me, but that's a lie.” His hand gripped my face, squeezing as he forced my lips apart. “I want to taste that pretty poison as it drips from your mouth and covers my tongue.” His mouth slammed into mine and all the reservations, fear, and anxiety I felt melted away.
My arms instinctively wrapped around his neck and I kissed him back. He tasted of cigarettes and smelled like cloves and a kick of cinnamon, a combination I never knew I needed in my life. His tongue danced with mine as our breaths became one. I didn’t need air to breathe. I neededhim. All of him.
Forsythe reached around my body and gripped my backside. His hands tugged at the hem of my dress, and I pulled back with a loud gasp. “What if someone sees us?”
He smiled. “The only ones out here are you and me. No one will see us. And you can be as loud as you want. But if you want me to stop, then say the words.”
My hands rested against his chest. I could feel his heart racing and knew I didn’t want this to end. “No,” I breathed. I gripped the material of his shirt and tugged it free from how he had it tucked into his jeans. I slid my hands under the hem, feeling his hard abs. His body was so warm, nearly burning my fingertips. I watched his face, noticing his jaw tighten at my touch. “I don’t want to stop.” My hands gripped his shirt and carefully pulled at it.
He lifted his hat, letting me yank the shirt off his body, gently tossing it to the ground. I’d never seen him shirtless before. His body was phenomenal. His skin was tanned from being in the sun so much, covered in scars I assumed he’d gotten from working so long on the ranch. He had various tattoos and a bit of chest hair that was soft to the touch, but what drew my focus most was the brand he wore across his heart.
There’s no way this man is forty-five. Wait.
“Is that a cattle brand?” I asked while grazing my fingertips along the raised skin.
Forsythe followed me with his eyes. “Something like that.” His hand tipped my chin, forcing my focus back up to his eyes. “Turn around.” I did as he said and slowly turned around. His hands gently gripped my hips and pulled me closer into him as his mouth pressed along the nape of my neck. His hands trailed for a bit, feeling along my curves. My body arched into him with a faint gasp. His hand glided up my spine and before I knew it, he had completely unzipped my dress.
I spun around to face him, leaning against his body. “Now what?” I asked nervously.
“You tell me.” He kissed me and wrapped his hands around my waist. “I told you, you’re in charge, Lucille.” We kissed again and again, the tension between us growing with each second. I found my hands sliding all along his body, touching every inch of him. I wasn’t just hungry. I was starving.
I don’t want you. I need you.
