“Okay, challenging.” He corrected, with a wink. “Which is basically my kryptonite.”
I groaned, followed quickly by an impossible smile. He looked unfairly good in the firelight; golden skin, strong arms folded, mug balanced on his chest like he did this every night. Like we belonged here.
I set my own mug down and leaned back, just a little. Close enough to smell him. A warm spice and cedar, and something deeper, uniquely him. Close enough that if I shifted even an inch, our legs would touch.
“You know we could be good together,” he said then, so softly it didn’t feel like a confession. It felt like a promise.
My breath caught. “At the camp?” I asked, even though I knew he didn’t mean just that.
“That too.”
He turned, placing his mug beside mine, and lifted a hand, slow, like he didn’t want to startle me. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers warm against my skin, lingering.
His palm cupped my cheek, rough and gentle all at once. “Cassidy,” he murmured, my name like it was a secret between us. “I’ve been trying not to want you. But I think I’m losing that fight.”
I felt the pressure of longing against my ribs as I leaned into his touch without thinking, my eyes fluttering shut as his thumb traced the curve of my cheekbone.
Peace and chaos warred in my chest. Everything about this moment felt like a lullaby and a lightning strike.
When I opened my eyes again, his face was closer. His gaze flicked down to my lips. The air crackled.
“I should—” I started, unsure what I was even about to say.
“Don’t overthink it,” he whispered, his nose brushing mine.
His breath was warm and sweet and close. My hand moved of its own accord, settling against his chest. His heart thudded beneath my palm, strong and fast, echoing mine.
“Tell me to stop,” he said, his voice low and rough.
“I can’t,” I breathed.
And then he kissed me.
Soft at first. Testing. Questioning. My sigh was the answer he needed. His hand slid into my hair, tilting my face just so as he deepened the kiss, his mouth warm and patient and devastating.
The tension we’d built up for weeks unspooled in a single touch. He kissed like he meant it. Like he didn’t care that there were a dozen reasons why this was dangerous. He kissed me like I was the only thing tethering him to the earth.
I melted into him, my fingers curling into his shirt. I could feel him everywhere, his hands, his heat, his heartbeat crashing against mine.
When we finally broke apart, breathless and wide-eyed, he rested his forehead against mine.
“Still think I’m irritating?” he murmured, his voice husky.
I grinned, tracing the stubble along his jaw. “Completely,” I said.
And then I kissed him again, just to prove how much I didn’t mean it.
Chapter 19
From the Ground Up – Dan + Shay
Gunner
Ever wake up with excitement deep in your belly and for a moment wonder why it was there? It was a lot less than a moment before it struck me, why I had hosts of damn butterflies. It was that kiss. Both the kisses. Can’t say I wasn’t shocked when Cassidy pulled me in for another one, but I wasn’t about to say no. As kisses went it was pretty spectacular. Hard when it needed to be, gentle when it needed to be, and her lips were as soft as the plumpest pillows.
The honker I woke up with was proof of how good it was. Not that I didn’t wake up with one every day, but today’s was all about Cassidy and was a full on angry bishop. It was her I’d dreamed about when I’d finally got some sleep.
It was her that I’d have loved to have dragged into my bed last night. Her who’d I’d have loved to have feasted on and to have fucked all night long. I stopped myself, though, because it would have been wrong. We’d only just stopped bitching at each other, or maybe it was a temporary ceasefire, but one day ofbeing pleasant to each other wasn’t the best basis for a night of bambam.
