“Because I’ve wanted to do this all day.” He doesn’t move, but his eyes skim over my mouth.
Chapter 20
Adam
Kiss her. Lean in and do it.
Everything inside me is screaming, but something holds me back.
Stevie’s brown eyes blink up at me. “Adam?”
“Hmm?” Her hair is silky in my hand. I memorize the feeling in case this is the only time I’ll get to touch her.
“Why aren’t you kissing me?” She gets straight to the point. I like that about her.
I know why I’m hesitating. I need her permission to make her lose the bet, but admitting that is tantamount to admitting that I’m a good enough man for her.
The thoughts I’m having might prove otherwise. We’re alone. It’s just me, the evening breeze through the trees, and this woman who is so tempting I can’t see straight. I could kiss her, and no one would ever know.
Nothing good ever started with that reasoning.
But I only want to taste her pink lips one time. Once. It won’t be enough, but I’ll happily accept whatever Stevie is willing to share with me.
There’s a war going on inside my head.
“I want to kiss you,” I murmur, moving closer until we’re only a breath away. “But I don’t want to ruin the, uh, the bet for you.”
There’s conflict in her eyes. “How would I lose the bet? Are you saying you’re my boyfriend?” Her lips curl at the corners, and she moves in.
“The wording I heard was ‘Good Enough man,’” I say with a soft laugh. Her fingers squeeze my arm, and I close my eyes. She’s close enough that if I took a deep breath my lips would touch hers. “I’m nowhere near good enough for you, but I’ve never wanted anything more than this.” I’ve never wanted anything more than her, I realize. She’s true north.
She sighs, and I feel the warmth of it on my cheek. “I’m not afraid of losing the stupid bet,” she lies. There’s angry, impatient kitten energy in her tone, then her voice softens, “But I’m scared of how perfect you might be.”
My eyes flash open, immediately trained on her lips. I lower my mouth slowly, giving her every opportunity to back away. Instead of changing her mind, she moves in, closing her eyes.
In a fraction of a second I absorb the details of her face—the dark lashes resting on her cheek and the sprinkle of freckles on the bridge of her nose. Dragging my thumb across her velvet-soft jaw, I memorize Stevie. Then our lips touch. I want to move slowly and commit every new, delicate detail to memory, but I can’t.
I was wrong about her. Stevie isn’t like carrot cake.
She’s a wildfire.
Her red hair is all around me, and she tastes like wild strawberries. Her hands weave into my hair, pulling me closer with a moan that changes me. She’s already realigned my inner compass, but now? She’s everything. I don’t want anything but the taste of her on my lips and the feel of her under my hands.I wrap my arms around her petite frame, pulling her close as I explore her.
I want to claim her, but I know I can’t. Good men don’t claim wild things; they observe with respect and appreciation. And sometimes they nip at their lower lips, just a little bit.
Stevie sucks in a breath, pulling away just enough to murmur, “You can’t do that,” against my mouth.
“Maybe we should find something else to do.” I pull back, observing the surprisingly wild woman in front of me through lowered lids.
Her pained expression combined with a pitiful whimper makes me chuckle.
I lean down, pressing one last, quick kiss to her pouting lips. I can’t seem to stop. “What are we going to do about this?”
“About what?” Like the wildfire she is, Stevie moves back in, reclaiming territory and terrorizing me with her heat.
I’m still out of breath from kissing her. “About us, Stevie.”
“There’s an us?” she asks like a minx.
