My eyes widened. “Oh my God. Have you been wearingdirtyunderwear?”
“Jesus, no.” He pushed off the ground, wiping his hands on his jeans as he crossed the room. Surprising me, he dropped back tothe floor when he reached me, trying to fold his long legs beneath the coffee table and leaning back against the couch, similar to me. “I’ve just been supplementing with some tighty-whities from the tenth grade, and you know, I think it’s possible my package has gotten bigger since then. Been pretty fucking uncomfortable, not gonna lie.”
I couldn’t stop a throaty laugh from escaping.
Sully’s gaze cut over to me, and the heat of his proximity spread through my limbs. His voice was soft, teasing. “Awfully rude of you to laugh at my pain, darling.”
And then I moved without really thinking about it, flipping onto my knees and crawling onto him. Sully’s eyes grew wide, but he didn’t stop me as I straddled him. Actually, he froze a bit. Like he was afraid that whatever was happening would stop if he moved.
But eventually, once I’d settled in his lap, I felt his large hands carefully brace my hips.
“Look at that,” he murmured. “Pain is totally gone.”
I gave him a playful swat on his chest and then let my hand rest there. Beneath it, I could feel the steady thump of his heart, and I spread my fingers wider, wanting all of it. I wanted to feel every beat.
With my other hand, I traced the collar of his shirt. It was just a plain shirt—long-sleeved since the evening was chillier. But he made it look really good.
Hewas so very good. And I was tired of watching him do things—painting the house, mowing the lawn, making my breakfast, reading me books—and not touching him.
I wanted to touch him again.
I’d been thinking a lot about that night in the yard, with the sprinklers. I’d been thinking about how I wished I’d been a little braver. How I wished I’d have closed the space between us when he’d been standing there, dripping wet and staring at me like it was killing him not to touch me. Even though I wasn’t sure if I’dbeen ready yet, I hated that I’d let that moment slip through my fingers.
Sully was beneath my fingers now, though. I kept one palm over his heart while trailing my other hand over the curve of his broad shoulders. He was silent as I explored. So silent, it was possible he might not be breathing.
I found my way to his hair, threading my fingers through it, and his eyes fluttered shut.
“Do you want me to cut it?” I asked, noting, not for the first time, how long it was.
“Please,” he rasped. “No one cuts it quite like you do.”
“Okay, I will.” Sully’s eyes opened again. “Can I come with you?”
“What?”
He sounded startled, like I’d pulled him out of a daze.
“To your apartment tomorrow. I want to see it.”
“I’d like that. A lot.”
I cast my gaze onto his upturned face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He swallowed, and I watched his throat bob. “But not because I want to show you my apartment. It’s the opposite, really. It’s a fucking mess.”
I laughed. “I thought you said that messy is okay.”
“It is,” he acknowledged with a tilt of his lips. “Still doesn’t mean I want you to seemymess.”
“I don’t have to come,” I offered, though something tugged in my chest at the thought. “Maybe you want a break. Or some time to yourself.”
Sully began shaking his head before I even finished talking. I studied him, cataloging the way the corner of his eyes crinkled before I even noticed his soft grin. He propped his legs up, forcing me to slide closer to him, our hips locking into place. There was something about the feel of his jeans against my bare skin, my inner thigh. I’d been wearing my favorite black skort and a slouchy sweater, unable to decide if I was hot or cold.
Hot, I decided.
So very hot.
Especially when Sully’s hands curved around to my ass. He cupped it and then used his grip to press me closer to his chest. A gasp slipped out of me.
