“You wear glasses,” she comments.
Moonlight is leaking through the window and causing her lidded gaze to glow. Shelikesthem.
“When I have to. Do you always drink caffeine at one in the morning? That would explain the boundless energy.”
“It’s decaf, smart-ass. Do you want any?”
The coffee machine beeps, and she spins around. All words and their meaning leave me when she opens the cupboard above her head and stands on her tiptoes, causing her shirt to ride a few inches higher than before. The utter definition in her legs punches the air from my lungs. A stiffening cock reminds me how long it’s been since I’ve had this reaction. I almost forgot she asked me a question by the time I’m a foot away from her.
“No, thanks. I’m already hot.”From this room but also that shirt.
“Sometimes a warm drink helps me sleep,” she whispers.
Unless she’s giving that sugar from the cupboard a go, there’s no way she’s drinking that. Creamer is at the top of my grocery list, and I planned to go to the store before anyone woke up.
Has she been up all this time? I can’t read her face with her still turned around—not that it’s done me a lot of good up to this point. She tips the coffee pot over her mug as I cage her against the counter. A splash misses the rim and puddles on the granite with her gasp.
“Everett, about earlier?—”
“Tell me what you want, Summer.” I can’t stop myself from saying what I’m thinking any longer. Can’t deny this chemistry between us. I need to know what she wants from this. Fromme. Because I’ll walk out of this kitchen and back up those stairs if it’s not us. But if this is about her not trusting her own decisions… if she thinks she needs validation from Julia or anyone else in her life, she’s wrong.
Her hands shake as she stuffs the coffee pot away.
“I want you to know… I took this job for Quinn. I like spending my time with her, and I don’t want to do anything to ruin that.”
“I know. You aren’t,” I assure her.
“But if this is a game to you?—”
“I’m a thirty-three-year-old widower with a toddler, Summer. I don’t have time for games.” I’ve thought long and hard about this, is what I’m saying. Leaning into sex just because it feels good is not a luxury I have anymore. I know the ramifications of this dynamic, and I wanther.“I need to know what you want.”
“I just?—”
Her sentence cuts off when I run my nose along her shoulder. Her back arches, and the move sticks her ass out. She can’t press it against my lap and expect me not to find out what that means. Her head falls back on my shoulder, her perky tits tenting her T-shirt. Swift pants follow the rise and fall of her chest. I’m waiting for her to say it. To break the charged silence.
“I want…”
My breath ghosts against her skin at the base of her throat.
“I need…”
I’m dying here. Desperate for her to finish that sentence.
“… you to touch me.” Her voice is barely above a whisper. A soft plea she’s afraid to say. Thisisabout trust. Summer is scaredto ask for what she wants, and I’m going to make her not so afraid anymore.
The pads of my fingertips graze her thighs, coasting up the tense muscles that bunch beneath her skin. She braces herself against the counter, sagging forward at the waist. A quiver follows the path I’m drawing higher and higher. By the time I reach the apex of her outer thighs, there’s no doubt she can feel everything she’s doing to me. It’s as far as I planned to take this without more direction. “Now what?”
She’s still trembling. Still hasn’t moved or touched me back. I don’t want her to. This isn’t about me. She has to know how much this is affecting me.
“Higher,” she pants more boldly this time.
My fingertips slide under her shirt. Coast over delicate fabric. I squeeze her backside, and she groans, giving in to the pressure of my hands and tipping even further forward. I’m barely holding it together with her bent over like this. Pressure is building, drawing my balls in tight. When my hands slide up her waist, so does her shirt. Fabric drapes so high white lace is on display. I’m already gone, and we’ve just started. Impulse and need are gnawing at my spine. Temptation is literally in my lap, but I want to prove to Summer that deep down she knows what she wants, and she deserves every bit of it. I’m not going to stop until I convince her otherwise.
She grinds against me and whimpers, “Take off my shirt.”
I drag it over her head and toss it on the floor. Two soft breasts fill my hands when she presses them to her chest—helps me squeeze her nipples with our thumbs and pointer fingers entwined. It’s erotic watching her take charge of her own body and give herself over to the intoxicating friction. Her hand slips to her waist as she peels her underwear down her legs and kicks them off to the side. Then she finally,finallyspinsto face me.
She grabs my wrist when I touch the rim of my glasses. “Leave them on.”
