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bites her lower lip. She’s nervous and I
don’t know why. “Are you okay?”
She nods but refuses eye contact. “I wish I was perfect for you.”
“You are perfect for me.”
Beth rests her hand on my inner thigh and her fingers slowly trace the seam of my jeans.
Fire races through me and flames lick areas very close to her fingers. Beth starts again.
“No, I wish…” and stops.
Even though part of me wants nothing more than for her to keep touching me, I force my hand over hers. When Beth struggles with
words it means she’s on the verge of saying something worth hearing. Her emotions
confuse her. Maybe tonight, she’ll finally find the courage to say the words I’m longing to hear.
“I wish…” She sighs. “I wish I never had
sex with Luke. I wish I could take back so many things, but I can’t. I wish I could be someone worthy of you.”
Beth is on my bed. Her body is close to mine and her fingers hold on to me, but something in her voice makes me feel like she’s slipping away again.
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“I’m not perfect,” I tell her. “And you’re exactly who I want you to be—you.”
“I want you to be happy,” she says and even though she’s physically near me, I look into her eyes and see the glaze creating a wall.
Beth slides a leg over my body and straddles me. Her parts are right on top of mine and the fire within threatens to become an inferno. She knots her fingers in my hair, sending chills along my neck and down my spine. Her lips graze my earlobe, followed by a gentle tug with her teeth. Warm breath tickles my ear.
“Let me make you happy.”
My mind’s a mess and a small voice yells at me that she’s leaving. But she can’t be. She’s here, in front of me, driving me insane by pressing her body against me. My hands grasp her moving hips, physically keeping her near.
She grabs hold of the hem of my shirt and I let her ease it over my head. Her fingernails whisper against the muscles of my abs and clear thought no longer exists as she explores downward.
We fall backward onto the bed and Beth
continues to move with me. I moan when her hair brushes my chest and her lips kiss my HC TITLE-AUTHOR
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neck. Against my skin, her mouth tilts into a smile. My hands wander underneath her shirt.
Her body is burning hot under my touch and I want her skin brushing against mine. I yank her shirt over her head and kiss that blessed spot right between her breasts.
Beth gasps and I no longer want her to be in control. I want this. I want to be the one to make her happy. I want to make her feel good.
Wrapping my arm around her stomach, I twist both of us and flip her onto her back on my bed. I love the feel of her underneath me.
She tangles her leg with mine and her
fingers lace in my hair, tempting me down again. My hand glides along the curve of her waist and I want to touch places I know will make her move in rhythm with me. My fingers drift against her stomach and I hesitate when I come into contact with her belly button ring.
Our first night together in the barn creeps into the forefront of my brain. I asked her a question that night and she never answered. I slip off her even though her hands pressure me to stay. “What’s your tattoo mean?”
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Beth
WHAT DOES MY TATTOO MEAN? Five seconds
ago my body was blazing and five words
freeze me like an arctic wind. Ryan brushes my hair off my shoulder and tilts his head as he waits for an answer.
I keep eye contact as the devil inside me fights with my desire to tell Ryan something I’ve never told anyone before. “It means freedom.”
Ryan readjusts so that his body touches
mine. His abs ripple as he moves. Oh my God, he’s incredible and I’m shirtless on his bed and he wants to have a conversation. Ryan can be so…so….frustrating.
“Why did you choose that tattoo?”
I glance away and blow out air through my lips. There are some secrets that are mine and mine alone. Why can’t Ryan work with me?
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Why can’t he let me give him this night? I lean up and kiss his lips. Ryan presses back, but he keeps the exchange short. I flop back on the bed. “You’re straight, right?”
Ryan chuckles. “Very.” And to prove his
point he makes my toes curl when he skims a finger in the narrow valley between my breasts, down my stomach, and plays with the edge of my low-rise jeans. “I’m dying right now.”
I refuse to give him the satisfaction of
closing my eyes in pleasure. There should be another badge in that for me. “Then why are we talking?”
“What do you know about me?” he asks.
I shrug. “A lot.”
“Tell me some of it.”
Oookaaay. “You love baseball and writing.
Your gay brother can kick most guys’ asses.”
Ryan laughs and I smile. I love his laughter.
It reminds me of music.