Page 43 of Hold the Line

I brought my head out of his neck, finding his eyes again. “When I graduated and moved back to Sugar Brush, my parents assumed I was going to work at the ranch’s restaurant as a pastry chef. Technically, I wouldn’t have been working for them since neither has anything to do with managing the restaurant, but it’s still theirs. They own it. I hadn’t been sure what I wanted to do, but I’d known working for my family wasn’t it.”

Deacon listened intently, a furrow between his brows as he nodded along.

“Back then, I hadn’t been able to put a name as to why I’d been so viscerally against it, but I think I finally can. They’re my parents. I don’t want them as bosses. It would change things. So, I worked at a couple different bakeries in Laramie until I figured out what I wanted to do. That happened to coincide with a storefront opening on Main Street, and the rest is history.”

He raised his hand to cup my cheek, his thumb pressing on my bottom lip. “So you understand me then?”

I nodded. “I can just be your girl, honey.”

We melted into the couch until we lay together, Deke on his back, me on my side, wedged between him and the back cushions. We’d put a podcast on, but I was only half listening, my attention more on his hand resting on my waist and the kisses he kept planting on my forehead.

Antsy, I moved my legs so one draped over his, my foot hooking beneath his calf. He lowered his chin to his chest, watching me shift around.

“Comfortable?”

“Getting there.”

“C’mere,” he demanded softly. “Give me your mouth.”

I scooted up his body, putting us face to face. Once he had me there, he didn’t hesitate to slide his lips over mine and coax them open. I parted, allowing him entry, and he clutched my head, kissing me long, wet, and deep. Tongue dancing with mine, I was lit from head to toe. Turned on and ignited. Cozy and languid. In no rush to take things further, I bunched his shirt in my fist, letting this kiss consume me.

Deacon didn’t move quickly, and I liked that. If all he wanted to do was make out on his new couch, I was game. It was different, but so was he. I couldn’t remember ever being thisintoa man. Excited to see him, talk to him,knowhim.

I drew my leg up higher and twisted, aligning my core with his thigh. I rocked, and it wasn’t intentional, just my heated body seeking his, but he felt it.

Oh, had he felt it.

Pulling away from my mouth, he looked down, then flicked his eyes back to mine.

“Sugar,” he drawled. “What’re you doing?”

“Feeling you.” I slid my palm from his stomach to his chest then curved my fingers around the side of his neck. “I love the way you kiss me.”

He shook his head. Close enough, his nose brushed mine. “Can’t get enough of your mouth.”

He rolled into me, letting me feel just how much I affected him. The thick ridge of his cock pressed into the soft give of my stomach as his fingers dug into my sides and hips like he was trying to gather me up. Then he roamed lower, slowly, tentatively, until he reached my ass.

“This all right?” he asked thickly.

“More than,” I assured him. If he was a little less careful with me, that would have been all right too.

Perfectly, delightfully, ecstatically all right.

I took my own journey of his body, tracing my fingers along the length of his back to his backside. I tucked my hand into his pocket, curving my palm around his tight, round ass, and pulled him even closer, though he was already flush against me.

Grunting, he kneaded my bottom, roving from side to center. Then he squeezed, his fingers delving in as far as the seam of my jeans would allow. Not far enough, if his frustrated groan was anything to go by.

“Deacon,” I moaned, latching onto his lips.

Hot and swollen at my core, my nipples beaded and tingling, I was breathless, swirling with him in this in-between place of pleasure we’d yet to explore.

I sucked his bottom lip into my mouth. He tasted so good I wasn’t able to resist rocking my hips into him.

Then I was on my back, and Deacon was over me, his face buried in my neck, hips snug between my thighs. He nipped at my throat, teeth, lips, tongue, making me quiver. My knees tightened at his flanks, bringing his cock in line with my clit. I felt him, even through two layers of denim, and my body arched on instinct.

His groan vibrated my throat. “You feel so good.” His lips trailed along my jaw to meet mine once more.

“Stay there,” I said into his mouth. “Right there.”

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