Reed’s hand grips my braid, pulling it to the side. His palm closes in on my hip. “I like the view in here better,” he whispers against the exposed skin of my neck, and my body instantly reacts to his presence. With one hand curling around the edge of the desk, the other fists his hair.
“What else do you like?” I spin in his arms, volleying his earlier question back at him.
“I like you,” he answers, taking the weight of the world outfrom under my legs as he grips my thighs and fastens them around his waist. He plants me on top of the desk, nudging my knees apart and making room to slide between them. Then he kisses me, even softer than before. I can feel a tremor in the hand he has at my neck as if it’s taking a Herculean effort for him not to drop it lower on my body.
“It’s impossible for me to keep my distance from you,” he gets out as his mouth charts a rough path to my collarbone.
There is a very real possibility that after this fire season Reed will leave and never look back. I could be opening myself up to getting hurt and left behind again like the other men have done in my life. But if I allow myself to live in that fear, I’ll never know what this could be. And this feeling… I need more of it. Keeping my distance from him is driving me insane.
“I don’t want you to keep your hands to yourself.” I’m panting now. Forcing air into weathered lungs. I reach for the hem of his shirt and he shudders when I touch the sliver of exposed skin at his waistline. “You asked me what I like… I like being with you. I like”—I graze my hand down his chest—“touching you. And I have an IUD… We can take this as far as we want to, and you don’t have to worry about that part.”
“The only thing I’m worried about is not having enough time with you.” He draws a blanket off the desk chair and spreads it out on top of the mattress. Then he jerks me from the edge of the desk like he was waiting for that last string of willpower to snap. Waiting for permission to carry me over to the small mattress and tug my shirt over my head before laying me on top of it. My naked skin pebbles everywhere the cool night air touches.
“It drove me insane knowing there was nothing underneath here,” he groans.
I pause, blushing. “You saw that?”How embarrassing. I need an excuse for why I took it off, but all I come up withis the truth. The reason why most women hate wearing one in the first place. “I was hot, and it was uncomfortable, and?—”
“And I like it better when it’s off,” he finishes for me, flattening his tongue over my nipple. I arch into his touch.Is this what it feels like to be desired by someone?The way he takes his time working from one side to the other, leaving nothing untouched. He barely pulls away from my skin enough to tuck his forearm in the hem of his shirt and lift it over his shoulders.
He asked me what I liked.This. He hovers over me shirtless.This is what I like.
There’s very little room to spare from what we’re taking up on this mattress, and all I can think about is how there couldn’t be a more perfect place than this. It feels too good. Like one of those daydreams I’d have while working in the medic tent. I’m second-guessing if this moment is even real when he pulls off my pants and underwear. His hand rides up my thigh and—nope—this is definitely real, the way he leans over me and works small circles between my legs that sends me into another galaxy. One far, far away from this little barn we’ve found ourselves in. My eyes drop shut.
“Do you like it slow?” he asks, matching the speed of his hand to the pace he’s exploring my lips with. It’s intoxicating. I haven’t even touched him yet, and I don’t know how to when the sensation he’s urging is tensing every muscle in the lower half of my body. It’s winding tighter and tighter the more time he spends, and all I want to do is tip over the edge. It’s so close.
“Faster,” I say, and his lips stay slow but his hand… I cling to the sheets. My eyes fly open and stars burst across his face as I crest over that edge and fall apart in his arms. He doesn’t stop until every part of me sinks into the downey fabric.
In a hoarse whisper he says, “I knew you’d look like that.”
Suddenly I’m wishing I had a mirror. I’m sure my hair is amess and my braid in shambles. I’ve never wanted to look more perfect for him.
Perfect. That’s the exact word he uses when he says, “You look perfect when you come.”
“Spontaneous Reed is my favorite,” I blurt, my cheeks hot.
I want to hide my face in my palms. That was the least sexy thing I could say. But judging by the crushing kiss he gives and the urgent hands that remove the rest of his clothing, I don’t think it was thewrongthing to say. In fact, with the way he’s looking at me right now, I don’t think anyone has ever said that to him before.
“Everythingabout you is my favorite,” he says, nudging my nose with the bridge of his.
For the second time tonight, words leave me. Well, except one. “Everything?” I ask. He hisses when I close my hand around him for the first time and line him up with me.
“Everything,” he groans as he presses inside of me.
My daydreams will forever be filled with the sounds and expressions Reed makes as he gives himself over to me. I liquefy with every thrust of his hips and clench of his thighs wrapping my waist until the sight of him losing control burns itself into my memory.
He shudders and collapses around me. “I take it back,” he says, sweeping a lock of hair out of my eyes. “If I thought the men’s bathroom shower was a problem, I don’t know how I’ll ever concentrate again after that.”
I bite my cheek.Me neither.
“We should probably get back,” he says, but doesn’t move.
I’m not ready for this to be over, his arms around me and my legs snaked around him. I know being vulnerable is not easy for him, so I do it for the both of us.
“I don’t want to go back,” I admit.
He rolls to the side and gathers my underwear and pantsfrom the floor, helping me slide them up my legs. He lets out a deep groan like he’s disappointed to see them going back on, but he’s not stopping when he tugs my shirt over my head too. Then he kisses me just once and says something I never expected him to say.
“We’ll have time.”
