My mouth drops open on a greedy gasp. As my tongue slides against his, I moan at the taste of those chocolate crinkle cookies I saw him sneak at the party. My hips pop forward, seeking any pressure I can find, and his groan rumbles through me when I hit his hard length.
Yes, that’s exactly what I need.
Grinning against him, I do it again, and his fingers tighten on my upper thighs, his grip vibrating with tension.
“Little menace,” he breathes, and it’s like a reward.
My lashes flutter shut as he kisses me, and I dig my nails into his shoulders like I’m clinging to him for dear life. This kiss is bruising and desperate, and when I press my hips closer again, he moans and nudges me back.
“Lena, baby.” He drops his forehead to mine, panting sharp breaths over my lips. “We have to slow down. I want to take my time with you.”
He lifts his head, and I finally get to see Gavin on the edge of control, losing his mind.
Puffy lips, heavy-lidded eyes, sharp jaw, flushed cheeks.
It’s my favorite version of him yet.
“Slow down. Okay,” I sigh, pushing away from him. When I reach the opposite bench, I fan my lashes with the most innocent smile I can muster. “What should we do, then? The ABC game? Practice our knock-knock jokes?”
He bursts out a laugh, deep and devious, and it brings me so much unbridled joy that I add another job to my list.
10. Follow Gavin around and find new ways to make him laugh.
“No, none of that.” His chuckle falls into an arrogant smirk as his eyes flicker over my face, down to my shoulders. “Sit on the edge of the hot tub for me. Let me look at you.”
Goose bumps race over my arms at his deep, commanding tone.
My body obeys immediately.
When I lift myself out of the water, there’s a firm wood surface below me, from where the hot tub is built into the deck. The cold slats bite into my bare flesh, but it’s easy to ignore with the heat radiating from everywhere else in my body.
And Gavin’s dark gaze is as hot as any fire.
“That’s perfect, baby,” he says, devouring every inch of skin. The weight of his desire leaves a blazing path as it trails over my collarbone and down my stomach.
When he reaches my hip, his forehead crinkles. A prickling sensation shoots up my spine as he steps toward me with rapt focus.
A gentle hand wraps around my hip. “What is this?”
My heart pounds in my ears as I lean back on my hands, and he swipes a thumb over the tattoo on my hip bone.
“A tiger,” I whisper, watching his lips part as he sucks in a breath.
“A tigercub,” he corrects, brushing his fingertips over it like he’s petting the fur.
I nod as the memory of sitting in the tattoo parlor floods my mind. Millie holding my hand and trying to keep me laughing through the pain.
Gavin leans toward me, palms pressed into the boards beside my thighs. My breath stutters in my chest as he presses a soft, reverent kiss to the tiny tiger. “Fierce.” He leaves another kiss a little lower. “And soft.”
In that moment, that tiny flash of a minute, my unsettling reality becomes clear: no one will ever compare to Gavin.
No matter how many years I spend searching, every new person I meet will be analyzed against him in my mind, and I already know none of them will hold a candle to him.
Stepping back, he turns to the side, showcasing his masterpiece of tattoos. Flowers, vines, feathers, a moon and stars. Then he lifts his arm, and sitting right on his ribcage is a—
The world around me tilts as recognition flares in my mind.
Iknowthat drawing.
