“Kinsey,” he groaned against my mouth, grabbingfistfuls of my hair in his hands. “I don’twannastop.”
Although lacking in eloquence, the magnitude ofhis words struck me, and I heard another door begin to creak open. The lightand warmth radiating from inside was so welcoming, so tempting. I couldn’t sayno. I didn’twantto say no.
“Then don’t,” I said, my voice shaking.
His eyes opened and found mine in themoonlight, asking them for permission. “You’re sure?”
I smiled and nodded, my stomach exploding withthe nail-biting anticipation of what we were about to finally do. Anothershared first.
And then, I remembered the crucial bit ofinformation we all had hammered into our heads at the very beginning of Sex Ed.
What a mood killer.
“But wait, do you, um …”
The light was dim, but I swore I saw him blush.“Kins,Da’smade sure Iwas,ehm,preparedfor the pastcouple of years.”
My hands clapped over my face. “Oh, God,” Igroaned, all at once embarrassed and unsure if I could ever look his father inthe eye again.
“Hey, hey, look at me.” He peeled my hands frommy face, squeezing my palms in his. Even in the darkness, I could find thecomfort of his eyes, and I held myself there, pinning his gaze with my own.“I’mgonnalove you forever,y’knowthat?”
I saw the sincerity glinting in the sea ofblue-green, and I nodded. “I know.”
And then, in the bed of his old Ford pickup, weslammed the door on innocence and jumped through the next, fumbling our wayinto a room where sex was beautiful and not forbidden. We said each other’snames in a new way, and I learned that his gentle brogue was so much thicker inthe deepest throes of passion. It was sexy, it was exotic, and I loved it.
I loved him.
I was going to love him forever.
CHAPTER 17 |
Miracles of Time & SweetThings
Patrick stood upin the small crevice betweenbed and wall, singing that damn song. His eyes watched me with contentment,like he didn’t care what I did, justas long asI wasthere on his bed.
I have to say; the feeling was mutual.
His arms crossed over his front, his fingers grabbed theedge of his shirt, and in one fluid motion, it was up and over his head.
“And what do you think you’re doing?” I asked, as he tossedthe shirt over the bed into a laundry basket in the corner.
“Kins, it’s nearly midnight, andI’mgettin’ ready for bed,” he said, his eyes neverleaving my face as he unzipped his fly. “However, what we doinbed, isentirely up to you.”
A pang of panicked arousal hit me at the sight of him, andmy eyes dropped over his naked torso; the flexing biceps, the curved musculardefinition of his chest and the new-to-me Celtic family tree tattooed to theleft side. The tight bands of his stomach, the downward concave of the wideV-line of lean muscle. The strip of reddish-brown hair beginning at the bottomof his navel, disappearing under the waistband of his jeans; a trail leading toa place I could so vividly remember, but, God, he looked so different. Twelveyears had truly done amazing things to his body. They had turned the boy intothe man, and while I found myself missing that boy I knew, I thanked Christ forthe miracles of time.
“Excuse me,” I managed to say, my voice taking on a higherpitch than normal, “but you said you’d sleep on the couch.”
He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at me. “I did saythat, didn’t I? What the feck was Ithinkin’,sayin’ something like that? But,” he sighed, shrugging,“okay then. If that’sreallywhat you want.”
Humming, he grabbed a pillow from the bed, and I watchedthe flexing of his arms and chest, and then, the rippled movement of his abs ashe walked around the bed to the door. He turned, displaying theincomprehensible architecture of his back. The symmetrical design of musclewith his spine as the dividing line. The dimples just above his undone jeans,barely sitting over the rounded arch of his butt …
There was no way I was allowing him to walk out of thatbedroom, not when he looked like that. And he hesitated at the door, as thoughhe knew I was about to say something to keep him from taking another step, andhe waited with his hand on the door frame.
“Irish bastard,” I whispered, biting my lip and shaking myhead.
“What was that?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, and pushed the words out with abreathy sigh. “Please, don’t leave.”
