Page 77 of There's Pumpkin About You
Ever since that night I’ve had the most sinful thoughts. It took everything in me not to push her up against the wall and take her right then and there, steps be damned. Even now, I’m stuck between wanting to storm over to her and scream at her that I want her to stay with me in Eaglewood, and wanting to bend her over the table and show her just how to worship a woman.
As if sensing that I’m watching her, she looks up, hazel eyes catching me from across the bar. A tingle dances across my skin as her gaze rakes over my tall frame. She takes in my broad shoulders, my toned legs hidden behind worn-out jeans. She looks at me like a woman starved, a woman on the edge, and that in itself almost tips me over until all I can hear is a ringing in my ears.
I don’t take my eyes off of her as I stalk over, and when she licks her lips, I almost lose control entirely.
“You look at me like that for much longer, sweetheart, and Colin might have an early show on tonight.”
Her eyes widen at my promise and I eat up her reaction like it’s my last meal. There’s something else I would ravage with just as much given the chance.
I take a seat beside her, letting my thigh brush against hers.
This is not why I’ve come here. I came here to tell her that I want her to stay, to tell her that I want her to come to the farm and just never leave. Is that too extreme, though? Is that too fast? Fuck knows, all I know is that if I don’t tell her something, then I’ll have wasted a chance to be with a one-of-a-kind woman.
Right now, though, with the way one touch from me has her breathing heavy and has her body charged and sensitive, my mind is finding itself being invaded by a different kind of need, a different kind of desire.
I still want her to stay with me, but I want her to stay so that I can bring her flowers, kiss her hair before carrying her onto my dining room table and eating a meal that would make any man jealous.
I need to tell her this.
I open my mouth to tell her this.
“Can you take me home?”
Okay, maybe I don’t need to tell her. Not when she’s just asked me to take her back to my place with a desperation that has my cock straining against my jeans.
I shift towards her, allowing myself the chance to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. The blush that creeps across her cheeks when I let my finger glide behind her ear has me biting my bottom lip. I know what it feels like between my teeth. I know what it tastes like when I kiss along her neck. I know what her lips taste like.
And I’m desperate for more.
“Sweetheart, let me tell you right now. Be sure that you want to step foot in my house, because if you do, you’ll be coming to my house, and then coming all night. So, decide now. I won’t be mad or think less if you change your mind.”
She shakes her head so violently that her curls fall back into her eyes. Her eyes are wild and dark with lust.
I almost combust with the look of fierce determination as she says, “Take me home, Finch.”
ChapterThirty-Five
WREN
He doesn’t waste any time, doesn’t even let me take my shoes off—let alone line them up in size order—before he lifts me up with one arm like I weigh no more than his smallest pumpkin.
There’s no space between us. It’s his chest against mine, the tip of his nose nuzzling mine intimately. There’s no space to breathe, and yet I wouldn’t want it any other way. This is what I need. This is whatweneed.
Gus crashes his lips against mine, a desperate act that could bruise. Not that I care. We’re a frantic mixture of lips, tongues and teeth. The way he nibbles at my bottom lip has zips of electricity jolting throughout my whole body.
“Gus,” I moan as his lips trail along my jawline and down my neck. “Gus, your arm.”
“What about it?” he mumbles, refusing to stop.
“I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
His face is back in front of mine. “Shut up, Wren.”
His lips find mine once more, and any snappy retort I had ready to go dissipates. I gasp as my back finds the wall in his hallway. A firm chest presses against me so tightly that I’m held in place, allowing him a chance to move his hand from my waist to my ass, his grasp firm even though my jeans are thick and stiff.
He touches me in such a way that my whole body feels like it’s on fire.
He unclips his sling, tossing it to God knows where, giving me a chance to tug on his shirt until I’m able to toss it to lands unknown. I rip off my own top, the air too hot, and my desire to have his hands on my bare skin is too much to ignore. He pulls back to allow himself the chance to look at me.
