“Please?” I ask, tipping my head innocently.
She bites her lip, and that’s when I know I have her. “Fine, but just this once,” she mutters, rolling her eyes at me before turning away to finish unloading the cart. Except, I do see the smile on her face, and that alone makes me happy.
Halfway home, it starts to rain, and not just a drizzle, but a downpour with hard, heavy rain against the windows. It makes it hard to see, no matter how fast the windshield wipers swish.
When we get home, I rush inside, letting out a breath. “Damn, it’s coming down fast,” I say, placing the bags on the counter. I get nothing in response, and I look around. “Sloane?” I ask, looking around to see that the front door is still open.
I walk over to the door and see her just standing out in the rain, looking up at the sky as it pours down around her. I can’thelp but stare at her.Hair plasteredto her face. Hoodie soaked. Her eyes are wide as she looks at me.
Her eyes drag up my body slowly, and when they meet mine, she has that look in her eyes. One that says she wants me as much as I want her.
I step forward, and she doesn’t retreat.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” she whispers honestly.
She bites her lip, and I want to do it for her. I want to suck those plump lips into my mouth. I want to kiss her until she’s breathless.
“It’s raining,” she points out, and it makes me smile.
“I can see that.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “I like this kind of rain. Mountain rain is so much better than ocean rain.”
I place my hands on her hips and pull her towards me. Her fingers grip the front of my shirt, and I want her to take it off. I want to feel her fingers on my skin.
“How is it different?” I ask, letting my eyes drift over her face as she keeps her eyes up at the sky. My eyes dance over her face, taking her in. The slow curve of her nose, the freckles that dot her cheeks, her pink lips.
“I don’t know, it just is. It feels different. In Georgia, they get the hurricane rains, and this kinda feels like it, but it’s not the same. It’s softer, and there’s way less wind,” she rambles, her eyes finally meeting mine.
I cup her cheek with one hand. “Do you miss it there?”
“Not as much as I thought I would,” she admits, leaning into my touch.
“Come on, let’s go inside,” I whisper, nodding towards the house. She lets me grab her hand and pull her inside.
I shut the door behind us, and she pulls me into the kitchen.
She seems a little bit better now than she did just a few minutes ago. She turns and lets me pull her to me.
“Is this ok?” I whisper, walking her backward, and pressing her up against the wall.
“Yeah.”
She doesn’t fight me when my lips meet hers instead; she welcomes me. Pressing her mouth to mine, she kisses me back with the same kind of passion that I kiss her with.
“Beck,” she whispers the nickname breathlessly, and I pull away, my eyes finding hers as she bites her lip. Her eyes tell me that she doesn’t hate it. That she’s ok with me touching her, with me kissing her.
“If you want me to stop, please tell me.”
She nods, and I pull at her hoodie. When she doesn’t stop me, I slowly peel it off, leaving her in just a damp tank top. I breathe heavy as I take a moment to properly admire her in the way that she should be worshipped.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Sloane,” I say, and her cheeks flush. I kiss her again. I pick her up without even thinking about it, her legs wrapping around my waist.
Her hands tangle into my hair, and I have to stifle a groan. No one that I’ve ever been with has felt this good, thisright.
Her hands pull at my shirt, and I pull away long enough for her to get it up and over my head. She drops it to the floor, and it joins her hoodie.
