Page 28 of Hard to Lose

I double over again, my sides hurting and my cheeks aching. I hold on to him to steady myself. But when I look up, I find his mouth inches from mine—right back to where we were before Heloisa interrupted us.

Except this time, there’s no Heloisa. There is just Gunner, his big brown eyes, tempting lips, and his fingers reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear.

He leans forward and brushes his lips against mine. The kiss is soft and tender and makes my insides feel like I’ve just grabbed a live wire.

I want more . . . so much more that it’s almost embarrassing.

And with his hand on the side of my neck and his thumb brushing over the line of my jaw, Gunner delivers a little bit more.

He kisses me again, but this time his tongue slips between my lips and meets mine briefly in a kiss that hints at things to come, but doesn’t make a gross public display of affection to the people still present in the middle-of-town event.

“I’ve wanted to do that all night,” he murmurs, the heat of his breath against my lips. My body hums with the desire that has been building since I first saw him tonight.

“Well, I know a place you can go if you want pie,” I offer, to which we both erupt into laughter again.

* * *

Sex with Gunner is definitely on my list of items to cross off while in Destiny Falls, and while I have no problem having a one-night stand occasionally, this is a small town. People talk in small towns, and the last thing I need is a bad reputation when I might need some of the locals’ help to find Ryan.

Yes, the same Ryan I haven’t even mentioned to Gunner yet when he’s a bartender and knows more people than most in town.

However, my resolve to not have sex with him tonight on our first date was tested the moment I saw him standing in front of Grandy’s. And I know it was thrown out altogether when he kissed me on that grassy hill under a dark sky.

And now that I’m standing under his front porch light as he unlocks his front door, I know I’m going to dive in and appreciate the decadent temptation that is Gunner.

In fact, it wasn’t even like it was a discussion—but more like a known fact that this was where we were going to end up after that first kiss.

There wasn’t a “your place or mine?” Just more stolen kisses here and there as we laughed and laughed while he gave me insight into small-town facts.

There was simply a tug on my hand as we walked down a few side streets in the warm evening with lightning dancing in the distant sky and a baited anticipation bouncing around us.

“It’s not much,” Gunner murmurs as he leads me inside his home. There’s a toss of his keys on the table. The shutting of the door behind me. The whisper of my name in the dark.

And when I turn to face the sound of Gunner’s voice, his lips are on mine. The kiss starts out slow and sweet, like a symphony’s first strings to capture your attention.

But there’s no need to draw me in. No need to seduce me with a soft melody when I’m already there, already gone.

We kiss in his entryway with moonlight streaming through the windows and slanting over us. His hands frame my face as our tongues flutter over one another’s and our hands map the lines of each other’s bodies. My hands run up the plane of his back, so I can feel the corded muscles beneath constrict and flex. His run from my hips to beneath my breasts.

We are slow and deliberate with our actions, almost as if we’re on the same page. The one that says once we unleash this need—this exquisite desire—there will be no going back. Need will turn to greed. Desire will shift into lust. And climax will be the only goal.

We take our time getting to know each other’s bodies. I gasp when his lips find the spot just beneath my jawline, the stubble of his five o’clock shadow teasing my sensations right along with his mouth. He moans when the chill of my hands hits his bare skin beneath his shirt, and I pull it up and over his head.

And then he freezes and sucks in a breath when I run my hands up the front of his torso and then chest and feel what I can only describe as indentations marring its surface.

Scars.

Like the kind they hand medals out for during fancy ceremonies with lots of high-ranking people.

Nix’s words hit my ears again, and I’m at a loss for what to do or if I just upset him. So I stare at Gunner in the moonlit dark, searching for an answer I don’t have any right to ask.

“It feels worse than it looks,” Gunner says quietly, and offers a half-hearted smile as he runs the backs of his knuckles down my cheek.

I lean in and press a kiss to his lips before stepping back, pulling my shirt over my head, and unclasping my bra. When I let it drop, I love and simultaneously hate the sudden rush of vulnerability I feel as he stares at me. As he takes me in.

“They feel better than they look,” I offer with a soft smile, hoping to ease the moment and the vulnerability I can only imagine he feels.

“They look more than beautiful to me.” He reaches for my hand and tugs me against him. Our lips find each other’s again. This time a little more desperate, definitely a lot hungrier.