“No. You think I’m sexy,” I remind her, my palm sliding down her calf. “And I think you used the word hot, too, but either works.”
“I never said hot,” she claims.
“Maybe,” I say, tossing her a wink that causes her to wiggle. “That doesn’t mean you’re not thinking it.”
I expect her to either hold onto her smile, or shove me playfully away with her feet. She doesn’t do either, she simply looks at me. So I try a little harder.
“You ready to make out?”
Oh, and there’s that laugh. “Finn, I told you. This isn’t a good time for me.”
“All right.” I make a show of glancing at an antique wall clock to our right. “How about in another five minutes?”
She covers her mouth with her hand, as if embarrassed because of how much she’s laughing or because of what I say. But then she drops her hand away and glances at the baby monitors that show Mattie and Lynnie fast asleep. “Okay,” she says.
For a second, she catches me off guard. Eventually I was sure she’d let me kiss her again, but I’ll confess, I thought I’d have to try a little harder. Sol is beautiful, and smart, and man, seriously smokin’. So I’ll take that kiss and maybe a little more.
My hand glides along her leg. “Okay in five minutes. Or okay right now?”
She sits up, her thick hair falling around her face. There’s not a lot of light in the family room. Only the side table lamps are on. But I catch enough shimmer in her eyes that tells me she wants me, and maybe likes me more than she’s letting on.
“Okay now,” she answers.
Well, all right then.
My left arm hooks beneath her knees, my right circles around her waist. She’s tiny compared to me, and a hell of a lot lighter. In one smooth motion she’s on my lap, her eyes widening with how quick I move, and how easily I take her.
I wasn’t trying to show off. My only intent was to hold her closer. But I don’t think she expected my speed or my strength. Based on how she stills against me, she’s afraid. Shit. That’s the last thing I want. She has nothing to fear from me. Now, or ever. So I do my best to prove it.
I lift my free hand, skimming her cheek, my gaze fastening to hers. “Are you scared?” I ask.
The quick rise and fall of her chest assures me she is, and maybe something more. “Yes,” she whispers.
I don’t expect someone like Sol to admit she’s feeling vulnerable. So her confession alone is enough to ease my hold despite my need for her. “Don’t be,” I tell her, the rasp to my voice gaining an edge.
I lean in slowly, brushing my lips against hers and teasing her with my tongue until she returns my affections. Her arms wrap around my neck, her pouty mouth inviting me deeper.
She feels so good pressed against my body. I slip my tongue in when she pulls me closer. She likes what I’m doing. Sweet. Cause I like it, too.
Her moan is barely audible, but I hear it, and feel it, just like I feel her full, soft breasts slide against my chest.
The heat between us rises, accelerating my pulse and luring the flicks of my tongue in for a deeper taste. My hands drag along her back. This girl can kiss and knows exactly what to do to make me hot.
I clutch her hip, our make-out session becoming more foreplay than the innocent act I intended when I saw how nervous she was. But now things aren’t so innocent. Now, I really want to touch her. So instead of keeping my hands where they’re safe, I slide one up to knead her breast.
I barely feel its weight when she draws back. She covers my hand with hers to move it down, but I beat her to the punch, knowing I’m way out of her comfort zone.
“Are you in a rush?” she asks, her lids heavy and her breaths quick.
“No. I just wanted to feel close to you,” I say, my heartbeat way out of control.
“To feel close to me?” she repeats.
“Yeah,” I say, surprised by how much I mean it.
My hand slides along her waist, enough to feel the bare skin her sweater doesn’t cover. Am I turned on? Totally. But she wants me to stop so I keep my hands from wandering. “You okay?” I ask.
I try to focus on her, rather than how tight my pants feel. Except that doesn’t help, not when I have a woman like Sol this close to me, and not when she gives me another quick kiss. “I’m not ready for this,” she says.
“The kissing?”
She shakes her head. “I mean you.”
“You’ve mentioned that,” I remind her.
She dips her chin, looking bashful and way too good to resist. “So why did you kiss me?” she asks, staring at me through a layer of the thick lashes.
My voice lowers. I know how to charm, but right then I’m not trying to get in her pants―okay, I am. But that doesn’t mean I don’t mean what I say. “Because you’re really pretty, cause I wanted to, and because you let me.”
She tilts her head, as if trying to figure me out. Maybe she thinks I’m blowing smoke, but for once I’m just being me, someone I haven’t been in a very long time.
I have to admit, it feels pretty damn awesome.
“I wish you didn’t say that,” she says, so quietly I almost don’t hear her.