Page 18 of Mud, Love, and Chemistry

“We broke up in January. And I’m not telling you this for your sympathy. I’m telling you because what you said about your heart not being intact after your last relationship? Well, I know all about that.”

The sincerity in his tone grounds me. It ties me to him in a way I’ve not known with anyone else, not even Lisa. He knows the heartache of being betrayed by someone you love. The hurt that only your heart feels.

Chapter 6

As we stare into each other’s eyes, I’m lost in his sparkling brown irises. Until he leans close and whispers, “I see you, Brynn.”

A delicious shiver runs up my spine, breaking the spell.

“Are you cold?”

I shake my head, my brow furrowing as I realize that’s actually true. I look toward the air-conditioner. “No, I’m not. Why am I not cold?”

I turn back around to find a softness in Sam’s features. “I shut off the a/c when I came in earlier. I wanted you to be comfortable if you came back in here.”

How utterly adorable. Such a sweet thing for someone to do. Let alone someone I’ve known less than a day. Before I can think too hard about it, I throw my arms around his neck and pull him to me. Our mouths crash together in a fiery kiss.

This is different than our tender moment on the balcony. This is pure passion, lust.

It takes Sam a moment to adjust, but soon his hands spring into action. His fingers dig into my back as he hauls me flush against his firm chest. One of his hands runs up my spine to cup the back of my head, tilting it so his tongue can plunge into my mouth.

My fingers eagerly dance along his body. I trace the ridges of his muscular back and shoulders, creeping a hand up his neck to tangle in his hair. My other hand finds the hem of his shirt and dives underneath.

He sucks in a breath against my lips, but resumes our kiss without hesitation.

I’m not disappointed by what I feel under his shirt. If the muscles in his back weren’t enough of an aphrodisiac, his chest and abs certainly are. Every crevice, every ridge, every nuance has my heart rate climbing and my imagination running rampant, and I can’t wait another second to see for myself.

I lift his shirt, but he snags my wrist. With a delicate caress of my mouth with his lips, he pulls away, and I’m devastated. What did I do wrong? Were we not just heavily making out?

Sam brushes his knuckle down my cheek. “Let me,” he says before pulling his shirt off.

I’m not only relieved, I’m entranced. He’s gorgeous. Like, Adonis the Greek god gorgeous, and all I can do is stare. Hopefully, I’m not drooling.

“Brynn?”

“Hm?” I hum, but I can’t tear my eyes away from his exquisitely chiseled torso. When he doesn’t say anything else, I flick my gaze up to find a pleased smirk on his face, and I blush.

Without a word, he wraps his arms around me and connects our mouths once again. It doesn’t take long for our passion to reignite, but now, without his shirt as a barrier, I’m dying to know what skin to skin contact feels like.

But either Sam is too distracted by our make-out session, or he’s too nice to force his hand, because he’s not making any move to take off my clothes. I appreciate the respect, but damn, I need contact.

I can’t wait any longer, so I do what I always do? take control. I nudge him onto his back and throw my leg over his hips to straddle him and his straining pants. My braids tickle the sides of my face as we kiss. As much as I don’t want to take my lips from his, I have to remove my torturous shirt immediately.

I move away from his mouth, kissing along his jaw to his ear and whisper, “My turn.” As I sit up, I take in his wide-eyed, eager expression. It’s adorable.

His hands fall to my hips, his thumbs brushing the skin of my stomach under my shirt.

When I lift it over my head, taking my sports bra along, I toss them to the floor without a second thought. He hardens against my apex. I fight the urge to grind against him as the need for more friction burns deeps within me. We still have way too many layers between us.

His gaze rakes over my body, like he’s memorizing each and every curve. After a lingering moment on my bare breasts and a deep swallow, his eyes travel up to meet mine. “You’re beautiful.”

I blush, but I roll my eyes. “What a line,” I say, my tone full of sarcasm.

“No, I mean it.” He takes my wrists in his hands, pulling me down so our faces are inches apart. “I thought you were beautiful the moment you turned to fist bump me this morning. I thought you were beautiful when you were covered from head to toe in mud, when you conquered that vertical wall in one leap, when you showed up at my door freshly showered.” He licks his lips. “You’ve been beautiful every minute I’ve known you, Brynn. It just keeps getting better.”

And I keep getting wetter. Fuck if that wasn’t the greatest thing he could’ve said. I kiss him solidly as my hands slide down his ribs to his hips where my fingers glide over to the button on his jeans. I make quick work of his fly, and he bucks his hips to remove his pants.

I giggle as we bounce up and down.

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