The sensation nearly undoes me. Having her like this, pressed against me, her breath coming in shallow pants against my neck, has been fuel for every fantasy since I was old enough to have them. The water laps around us, but all I can focus on is the heat radiating from where our bodies connect, and the way her fingers have found their way to my shoulders, holding on tight like she’s afraid of letting go. Her eyes are fixed on my mouth, and I can see the war inside of her. It's the same one raging in me. Want versus restraint. The knowledge that we're crossing a line versus skirting the magnetic pull that's always existed between us.
"Still not scared," I tease in hopes of lightening the mood and tempering my desire. But my voice comes out strained, betraying exactly how much control I'm losing. The space between us has become charged, every point where our bodies touch underwater sending heat spiraling through me. Her fingers dig into my shoulders as she adjusts her position, and the movement makes us both freeze, the intimacy of our entanglement suddenly impossible to ignore.
"Nope," she breathes, and fuck if she doesn't up the ante by locking her ankles behind me with deliberate intent.
The electricity crackling between us becomes a living thing, as this is no longer an implied situational intimacy. She just crashed through the façade and pressed her pussy against my hard cock with one swift move. The way her chest rises and falls in sync with mine tells me her thoughts are wholly consumed with the same hunger coursing through my veins. We’re so close I can feel each erratic breath brush against my mouth like a whispered invitation.
I bring my lips closer, every instinct screaming at me to close the distance, to finally claim what's been mine all along. But another desire, deeper, more primal, wrenches me back at the last second. My nose skims hers, the contact sending shockwaves through both of us, before I force myself to speak.
"Let me see your hand."
I can't help it. Her safety and well-being have always taken precedence over everything else. Ever since the first day, I've always had this innate need to take care of her. It heals something inside of me. Taking care of her feels like taking care of myself, and now that I have her back, I know it's because the heart that beats inside of her is the other half of mine.
She gives me her hand, her heated eyes never leaving mine. The last thing I want to do is turn away. I could stare into her honeyed pools for a lifetime, and it still wouldn't be enough. In her eyes, I am home. I see the man she wants me to be—her man. I find the spot between her thumb and forefinger where the wood punctured her skin, and I bring it to my lips, drawing her skin into my mouth, and her hips ever so slightly flex against mine with the force of my suction. My eyes slide up to hers, desperate to see if the ecstasy that once existed when my mouth was on her still exists.
When our eyes connect, I see desire, aged and different, its intensity unmatched by wisdom that could only be gained from the time we've spent apart. Not only does she like the way I'm making her feel, she's letting herself feel it without reservation. Isuck again and watch her eyes darken with each swallow, and I grow harder. White-hot desire deliciously shoots down my spine, and I'm fully erect and ready for her to feel what she's doing to me every time her heels press into my ass as she rocks against me. I suck her hand hard one last time, certain I did my job and sucked the shallow splinter from her skin, before releasing it altogether. I swiftly switch arms, relieving the one that's been holding the beam, and wrap the other securely around her waist, ensuring there's no mistaking what's happening between us.
"London," her voice hitches. "We shouldn't."
I lift and thrust against her. "Use your words," I say, bringing my mouth dangerously close to the lips I want to feel against mine again. "Tell me to stop."
Her eyes hold mine, and I can't be sure of all I see in their depths. All I know is, at this moment, she isn't pushing me away. For now, hidden away from the world, she's mine again. I press into her again, and she sucks her plump bottom lip into her mouth. It's sexy as fuck, and I want to chase it. I want to suck it into my mouth, but I wait. I'm currently getting more than I ever thought I'd have again. I slide my hand down her back and grab her ass hard on the next thrust, and the sexy little whimper she tries to stifle has me going again, harder, creating waves in search of another. Her eyes close, and I keep pace, grinding against her in long, hard strokes, watching the ecstasy flit across her face and reveling in the knowledge that I'm putting it there.
Instinctively, my head drops to the crook of her neck the way I know she likes, in search of the delicate skin beneath her ear that makes her break out in goosebumps every time my lips are near. The way her body feels pressed against mine, the fire spreading through my veins, feeling her desire for me again…it's consuming.
My lips connect with her soft skin, and the trance is broken. "What about my splinter?" she pants.
"The splinter was out when I asked you to use your words." I pull back, needing to see her eyes, needing her to acknowledge what's happening between us. Her gaze wavers and then meetsmine with a vulnerability that takes my breath away. Although we haven't spoken about everything that's happened and all the things that have changed, a soul-deep recognition passes between us—the same connection that has always existed, transcending the limits we put on our relationship. What has happened and what is to come are insignificant because we are right where we are supposed to be.
Our mouths slowly inch together when thunder cracks overhead, and Trigg yells, "Dallas, come on. We need to ride out."
"Shit, I forgot about the storm. We need to get out of here." Her eyes widen, and she nods. "The bees should be gone, but do you have your Epi-pen?"
"Yes, it's in my saddlebag."
"I'll duck out first, and when you feel me squeeze your hand, follow me out." She nods, and I slip beneath the surface, mourning the loss of our sanctuary—that stolen pocket of peace where the world's chaos couldn't touch us. But as I surface, hope flickers. If we can find moments like this, maybe we can find more. Maybe what we once had is still alive. Maybe it's strong enough to weather the storm.
When we reach the bank, I raise my hands and wave the others on as the first heavy drops begin to fall. We're already soaked, no one's hurt, and there's no sense in everyone getting caught in what's coming. Fisher catches my signal and gives me a quick wave before spurring his horse away with the group.
Thunder bursts overhead with enough force to vibrate through my chest and into the ground beneath us. In the distance, Laney's horse rears and whinnies, spooked by the sound. He yanks against his tether, and the rope snaps before he bolts into the storm.
You've got to be kidding me. I know exactly what she's going to say.
"London, we have to go after him."
I don't bother saying, "No, we don't." We don't have time to argue, and I need to get her out of the storm. I'm not worriedabout a bit of rain. I am, however, concerned about lightning and hail if the conditions worsen.
"We will," I promise, catching her hand before she can run after the horse. "After the storm passes."
"Lon—"
"No." My grip tightens. "I get you safe first. Then the horse."
Something in my voice stops her protest. Her shoulders sag slightly. "Okay."
Baylor’s horse,Reinhold, rides into the barn seconds before we hear hail begin pelting the metal roof. We are soaked to the bone after jumping into the lake and riding back in the rain, and I'm about to lose my mind. The mix of adrenaline still coursing through my veins from jumping into the lake and then riding to beat the storm mixed with the lust is a mindfuck. Riding back with her ass firmly pressed against my cock after the scene that unfolded under the dock has immensely distorted my better judgment, and I can't be held accountable for what happens next. She's the only girl I've ever wanted. I should find my way back, regain my resolve to stay strong and say no before pursuing what I want. I should give her every sordid truth first, but the second she puts her hands on my shoulders for me to lift her down, all my good intentions are gone, and my mouth is crashing to hers as I back her into a stall and against a wall.
I don't care where things stand between her and Noah. She's supposed to be mine. Besides, if she doesn't want this, she could end all of it right now, and I'd let her go, but she's not. The way her tongue is battling against mine and taking its fill tells me she wants this too, and fuck if I wish she didn't, because I can't stop, even though stopping is what I should do. Letting this continue will only hurt worse when I have to let her go for the things I can't undo. It's that thought that has me finding a mustard seed of willpower to pull away. My lips leave hers, parting for less than asecond, when a groan of disappointment escapes her sweet mouth, and I snap.
