Page 72 of Silver Linings
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My gaze darts around,glancing at the many safety hazards scattered throughout the store. “Here?”
“Yes, here. Between hundreds of books filled with romantic stories, let me give you one of your own.” He keeps his hand outstretched, waiting on faith alone that I’ll take it and join him.
“There are stories about murder in here too, you know.” He spears me with adon’t be a smartassglare.
I tentatively reach out, my nerves making my insides quake like tectonic plates are shifting inside my body, as he grabs ahold and lifts me from the floor. The strength of his pull, however, is more than I expected, and the trajectory has me flying up into his hard body.
“Oophfff.”
A laugh rumbles out of his chest as I let my forehead fall against it and catch my breath.
“Apparently, I have a thing for smacking into your statuesque body,” I mumble against his sweater.
“Statuesque?” His breath ruffles my hair.
I glance up at him now. “You know—tall, hard…imposing.”
The look on his face is a mixture of humor and pure mischief. “If that’s what does it for you, I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”
I don’t know exactly when our roles reversed in this…whatever you would call what we are, but I used to be the one making him flustered, not the other way around. This simply will not do.
I trail my finger down through the valley of his chest, hook it through his belt loop, and tug. “I thought we were gonna dance, twinkle toes.”
Hendrix’s eyes darken as they drop down to my index finger. They linger there a beat longer than necessary, and my smile grows exponentially wider. When he looks up and sees my expression, he snorts and grabs my wandering hand.
“How about we put your hands up here?” he says as he places both of my hands around his neck.
I immediately thread my fingers through the strands at the nape of his neck, giving them a little tug, and the groan that escapes his mouth unwillingly is so delicious, I feel it deep in my core. We’re playing with fire here, and I don’t think either of us care if we get burned.
“You’re trouble,” he groans.
“Don’t call me by my government name.” My smile is positively wicked, and he retaliates by slowly sliding one of his large palms from the small of my waist up to press between my shoulder blades, fingering the ends of my hair like I did his. But my attention is quickly diverted by his other hand settling so low on my back, the tips of his fingers skim the top of my ass, digging in possessively.
Hendrix wastes no time tightening his hold on me, connecting our bodies with one firm push of his hand into my back. I gasp at the sudden proximity. Heat tingles up my spinefrom the delicious friction as he leads us in a gentle sway to the music.
Between rows of romance books and the culmination of weeks’ worth of our hard work and twenty questions, Hendrix starts to sing along with the song, low and hypnotic. He’s not particularly good, but I think that makes this moment even more perfect.
“–and the edges of your soul I haven’t seen yet,”he croons in my ear, low and gravely. It would have made my knees buckle if he hadn’t been keeping such a firm hold on me as he sways us back and forth.
We’re suspended in a moment of what I can only describe as peace, my face buried in his collarbone, his hovering just above my ear, breathing the lyrics into my soul, infusing his unspoken promises into every atom of my body.
Out of nowhere, the song kicks up, and Hendrix wastes no time guiding us along the uptick in melody, as if he anticipated it. Suddenly, we’re flying through the room, dancing throughout the stacks and tables piled high with books, my right hand now in his as he dodges tables and industrial dryers left and right, spinning me under his arm as I laugh, wild and free. He brings us back to where we started when the song slows back to its original rhythm and settles us back into a gentle sway.
I stare up at him in wonder, both of us panting through smiles as our heart rates begin to slow. I nuzzle closer into him as the song ends, and neither of us pull away. His hand strokes the back of mine as he leans down and brushes a kiss under my ear that sends goosebumps prickling over my skin.
A soft moan escapes from my lips as I bring myself impossibly closer to him, trying to burrow myself into his skin, begging for more. I stretch up onto my toes, and he angles his body down until our noses touch, a moment of vulnerability before we dive into the deep. He searches my eyes, askingwithout words, and I nod my head in assent, begging him to give us what we both want, what weneed. This connection between us sparking like a live wire.
If I think he’ll give into the desire we’re both feeling like a blazing inferno, I’m wrong. He brings his lips back down to my ear, tracing a path down my neck, slow and languorous like a drop of honey out of a bottle. I breathe out a sigh, angling my neck to give him better access. He smiles against my skin before softly biting down, making us both groan.
Hendrix snakes his tongue up my throat to my mouth, settling his lips against mine in the sweetest connection. I twist my arms up and around his neck once more, bringing his face to mine as he settles his palms on the top of my skirt over my hips, pushing me backward into the wall of books behind us. The shelf bites into the middle of my back, but I can’t find it in me to care as Hendrix devours me. He licks into my mouth, the stubble on his chin scraping my face, making me wonder what it would feel like between my legs. The thought alone has me clenching my thighs together.
“More,” I pant into his mouth. “I need more of you.” I grip at his belt, but he stops my hand and pulls back an inch. Just as I think he’s about to put the kibosh on this whole thing, he slowly sinks to his knees, and my brain short circuits. My day is about to get so much better.
“Why do you look stunned?” He chuckles, face inches away from where he’s about to find me embarrassingly wet for him. “Are you nervous, baby?”
I muster up as much bravado as possible. “I’m simply admiring the view.”
