“I’ve been coming up with ways all day,” Hayden murmured in my ear, sending a shiver down the back of my neck. “Some of them might even makeyoublush.”
“I love you so much,” I said, laughing into his mouth as I stole one last clumsy kiss, the two of us too busy grinning to care about technique.
“Feeling’s mutual,” Hayden said as I finally pulled back, slipping his hand out of my back pocket—a little reluctantly, I had to be honest—and linking our fingers together.
“It’d be a good name for the place,” Hayden added as I led him toward the truck, the sunlight suddenly twice as warm on my shoulders as it had been.
“Feeling’s mutual?” I asked, confused.
“No,” Hayden said, wrinkling his nose. “No.Melting.”
32
Hayden
I couldn’t stop thinkingabout how I’d never have to miss the taste of Wes’s mouth again as I kissed him in the doorway of the guesthouse, the two of us too caught up in each other to make the extra two steps inside.
“Your dad didn’t seem surprised,” Wes said as I pushed his t-shirt up and out of the way, sighing happily at the familiar warm skin under my fingers, wanting him naked as soon as possible.
“No,” I gasped, surging in for another kiss, our noses bumping together in my eagerness. “No, he already knew,” I mumbled against Wes’s lips.
“Hewhat?” Wes asked, pulling away, blinking up at me with glazed, hazy eyes.
“He knew,” I said, panting to catch my breath. “About the two of us. Saw you climbing out my window.”
Wes blinked at me. “Which time?” he asked.
“What?”
“Which time,” Wes repeated. “I climbed out of your window twice.”
“I didn’t ask,” I said, confused and wondering when we were getting back to the kissing and the tearing off each other’s clothes part. “Does it matter?”
“If I ran across the lawn in bare feet after you asked him to get me for breakfast fornothing, it definitely matters,” he said. “You’re gonna owe me so many sexual favors I might as well just burn your clothes and tie you to the bed.”
I laughed, pressing close for another kiss, too happy to be with him to care about empty—if slightly kinky—threats.
“I’m serious,” Wes murmured against my lips, fingers working to unbutton my pants.
“You’d burn the jeans?” I asked, grinding against him, happy tingles cascading down the back of my neck at feeling him already hard for me.
“No,” Wes said. “I’d make you wear the jeans while you paid your debt.”
I snorted. “You want me to fuck you in jeans I’ve had since college?” I asked.
Wes blinked at me, pink tongue darting out to wet kiss-swollen lips. “Yes,” he said, looking as surprised by that answer as I was.
“Really?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Apparently.” He shrugged. “I really like the jeans?”
“I could get them,” I offered. “But they’re in my suitcase, in your truck.”
Wes glanced over at the spot he always parked his truck, then looked back at me, then over at the spot.
“Oh my god, you’rethinkingabout it!” I said, stunned. “I’m right here, we haven’t had sex in two weeks—phone sex doesn’t count—and you’re thinking about letting me run to my suitcase so I can change into those jeans.”
“I was gonna say no!” Wes defended. “Just…reallylike the jeans.”
