Minutes later we’re sitting in the car as it idles in Hardy’s driveway. She isn’t saying anything and it’s killing me. Is she mad about the poop song? Is she having second thoughts about how much we looked like a couple back there, and not just friends that are fucking? Is she having second thoughts about me?
We turn and look at each other at the same time, and relief hits me when I see the hunger in her eyes. Our lips crash together as she grips my face, pulling it to hers. She’s kissing me harder than she ever has before, and it has more than my heart growing in size.
Her mouth explores mine, our tongues tangling together in a dance that feels choreographed despite our lack of rehearsal in that department.
“I’m so glad you got rid of the no-kissing rule,” I say as she sucks my bottom lip into her mouth. “Fuck, I could do this for hours.”
“We don’t have that long. And I was thinking we could check off another item on my list,” she says as she dives back into my mouth.
There are only a few items left on her list, and I immediately know which one I want to complete.
Reluctantly, I break the kiss as I back out of the driveway.
“Where are we going?” she asks as we drive through town and she realizes we aren’t headed to her place.
“I’ve got a surprise for you.”
CHAPTER 18
MIKE
“It’s not much, but it’s mine,” I say, ushering her into the door of my one-bedroom apartment.
I watch as she takes in the space. It’s pretty minimalist, just the essentials: a TV, a couch, and a small kitchen table with two chairs. She doesn’t say anything, and I start to worry what’s going on in her head.
“I know it’s not much, but I don’t need much. And it’s clean. Besides, I’m at the fire station a lot so…”
She turns to me, a bright smile on her face. “It’s quiet.” She throws her head back, letting out a deep exhale through her nose. “It’s perfect.”
Her words calm my soul, and I tug her into the bedroom, guiding her to the queen bed. I reach down into the nightstand and pull out the bag I’m looking for.
“What’s this?” she asks, cautiously opening the bag.
“I picked it up when I was in Denver the other day, so we can complete an item on your list.”
She pulls out a paddle and hits it against her open palm, and the resounding thwack has my dick pressing against the seam of my pants. I wait for her to say something, but she’soddly quiet. When she sits on the bed, she looks down, spreading her hands over the comforter. “Is this navy?”
“Dunno, always thought it was dark blue.”
She stiffens slightly. I reach for her, stroking her arms as I part her thighs with my hips so I can stand between them.
“You know what they say about guys with navy sheets.” There’s a hint of playfulness in her tone, but I can sense the tension in her body enough to know that she’s in her head about something.
“I don’t. Enlighten me.”
“There’s this trend on social media about guys with navy sheets belonging in the streets.”
“I’m not following.” I tilt her face up toward mine.
“The thought is that guys with navy sheets are just down for hookups. They’re not guys looking for serious relationships. It’s just my luck, that’s all.”
I can’t stand the sadness in her eyes, and I grab her waist with one hand, picking her up as she wraps her legs around me in response, still clutching the paddle.
“Mike, what are you doing?” she asks, surprise in her tone.
I don’t say anything. Instead, I lean over with her in my arms, and I pull the comforter and sheets off the bed. I struggle a little with the fitted sheet, but after a few tugs, I get it free from the opposite side of the bed and toss all the linens on the floor. Then I set her down and grip her cheeks in both of my hands.
“What do I need to do to prove to you that I want more than this with ya? You’re more than just a hookup to me, a ghrá mo chroí.”
