Leaning forward, I brush the strand out of her face and tuck it behind her ear.
Her fingers curl around my wrist, and she searches my face. “I just…I don’t want to get wrapped up in this if you’re going to look back tomorrow and realize you were just overwhelmed tonight.”
“I didn’t come to you because I was overwhelmed. I came here because I wanted to be wherever you were.”
Her breath stutters, and I hold her gaze so she sees I mean every word.
Fuck. I’ve probably said too much.
I sit back just enough to show I’m not going to push, thumb brushing her knuckles once, gently.
“Don’t think for a second I’m going to wake up tomorrow and realize this was some momentary spiral. I knew exactly where I was driving when I left that rink.”
Her eyes soften, but she doesn’t speak. I’ve definitely said too much.
Way to go, Hendricks. Fucking up with the only person I want to look at me as more than just an English Lit partner.
“Thank you for letting me ruin your night,” I say quietly, slowly unlinking our hands. “I…needed this more than I knew.”
The porch swing creaks as I move, but Laura’s hand lands on my chest.
“Don’t go,” she whispers. “That was a lot, Scotty. So just…give me a second to breathe.”
“A second?” I swallow, turning my gaze back to hers.
Her eyes dart from my eyes to my lips. I don’t move. I can’t. I need to give her the space she just asked for.
“One second,” she says, her voice unsteady as her fingers curl into my shirt and she leans in.
“Take it,” I breathe back.
She does.
Just a breath.
Then she inches closer.
Another breath. One I feel against my lips.
Then her lips brush mine, barely there. It’s so soft it feels like a first kiss…the kind you spend your whole damn life waiting for.
Neither of us moves, terrified of breaking whatever this is.
But then Laura makes this tiny sound in the back of her throat, and everything inside me snaps.
My hand cups her cheek, and I tilt her mouth up to mine, deepening the kiss before I realize I’m doing it.
Her fingers clutch my shirt, yanking me closer.
When I trace my tongue along her bottom lip, she gasps—God, that sound—and parts her mouth for me.
So sweet. So fucking eager.
She melts against me, her body arching forward until she grazes against every inch of me that’s been starving for this.
My hand glides down to her hip, slipping under the hem of her satin pajama top. Her skin is warm and soft, and she shivers when I brush my thumb against her hip.
She moves, sliding her leg between mine and rubbing against the hard line of my cock.
