“They’re going to hear that,” I whispered.
“I don’t care.” His voice came out in a growl. Then his mouth crashed down onto mine.
The moment our lips met, all I could think wasI’m on fire.Flames scorched my lips where his crushed mine. They rolled from his tongue as it grazed mine. When his flicked against my top lip, heat curled through my entire body, greedy to consume all of me. I was fully alight as I took his lower lip into my mouth, my teeth sinking down of their own accord. Everything—everything—was on fire.
Let him turn me to ash.
But footfalls sounded through the open door.
“Mitchell,” I gasped, breaking the kiss.
He must have heard the desperation in his name, because he slipped his rock-hard forearms under my thighs, and swiftly carried me to the other side of the storage unit. There was a narrow gap between the shed’s side and the railing, and he pressed me up against the wall there just as the door opened, light spilling onto the porch’s decking.
“The hell?”
Blake’s voice.
I froze, breathing hard.
Mitchell’s lips went to my ear, his tongue darting a hot stroke across my earlobe.
I had to bite my tongue hard not to cry out.
I could see, just over Mitchell’s shoulder, a sliver of his brother’s back as he bent over and picked up the bottle of wine.
“Eyes on me, Winona,” Mitchell growled in my ear. His voice sounded thunderous, but it was a whisper, only for me.
I couldn’t help it, I shuddered.
His teeth closed on my earlobe, making me do it again.
His mouth dropped down to my neck. “Fuck, Winona,” he whispered.
I couldn’t move. I didn’t dare. Blake was still there—at least his hand was, holding the bottle. Was he inspecting the label? Why didn’t he go back inside?
Why didn’t I?
Mitchell’s teeth sank onto my shoulder, making me see stars.
“Thanks for the wine, Mitchell,” Blake said. He didn’t look our way. He didn’t need to. He disappeared back inside, the door clicking shut.
Embarrassment ripped through me. “Fuck me.”
“Not yet, Firecracker.”
My underwear, already damp, grew soaked at that.
But Blake had known. Of course, he knew. Our textingwas extremely unsubtle, as was the way I’d streaked from the room, Mitchell leaving right after.
Mortification dripped over me. “Not here.”
Mitchell ducked his head against my collar, breathing hard. Once again, he was trying to regain control. He’d stopped kissing me, but his hands still kneaded my backside. I don’t think he knew he was doing it. It made me unable to think. It made me keenly aware of how he’d soon feel the dampness of my core against his shirt, if he couldn’t already.
“Put me down, Mitchell.”
His hands finally stopped moving, his arms bending to gently lower me to my feet.
The slide down his body nearly killed me. I felt everything, including his long, thick erection as my most sensitive part dragged over it. And suddenly, I didn’t care about anything else.
