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“Not at all. I’ve wanted you since the first time I caught you staring at me.” I can’t help the chuckle when her cheeks heat again. “When you asked to be friends, I respected it, but you have no idea how happy I am right now hearing you want to see where it goes. Does this mean I get to touch you?” I ask. I’ve been keeping a respectable distance ever since she asked to be friends. I didn’t want to push a line she’d drawn. My heart races with the new possibilities.
“Please,” she replies quickly.Fuck. Summer begging nearly brings me to my knees.
“You mean, if I kissed you right now, you’d be okay with that?” I ask, leaning in slightly.
“Yes,” she practically whispers, wetting her lower lip in anticipation.
“Good to know,” I say, reclining back again and grabbing my fork. She watches me and crosses her arms, pushing her breasts up (which is painfully distracting). She clears her throat. With a herculean effort, I raise my eyes to meet hers, noting her arched eyebrow. “Make no mistake. I will kiss you, Summer. Just not here. I don’t need eyes on us the first time I taste that sweet mouthof yours.”
She nods dazedly, and I work to keep the cocky smirk off my face. Getting Summer to look at me like that after getting a taste of what she reads makes me proud. If I can get that sort of reaction from her with just my words, I can’t wait to see what’ll happen when I use my mouth for other things.
CHAPTER 19
Summer
Ryan insisted on driving us home because I had two glasses of wine at the restaurant. I put up a fight, but it was half-hearted. It’s nice to feel taken care of.
We pull into my garage and a mix of anxiety and anticipation flood my system. Even though I’m comfortable with Ryan, the feeling of being an actor on stage without her lines returns. I don’t know how to do the adult-dating thing. When Jared and I got together, we were still in high school and the rules and expectations when you’re eighteen feel very different than when you’re twenty-five. Is he expecting us to have sex right away? We haven’t even kissed yet. Is he myboyfriend? Am I supposed to assume that he is or does he ask first? Is that juvenile thinking?
His voice breaks through the cacophony in my brain, “Hey, Summer?”
“Yeah?”
“Get out of your head. Let’s go play some Scrabble.” He smiles as he gets out of the car, coming around to my side to open the door before I can even take off the seat belt. I sigh out a relieved breath and dig my teeth into a smile while I follow himinside. Even if he doesn’t know exactly what I’m thinking, he still manages to ground me.
We head inside, and I turn on a couple of lamps in the living room. They both give off a soft glow, making the environment feel more intimate than it did earlier with painting supplies strewn about and bright daylight pouring in. “Do you want something to drink?” I ask, heading to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.
“I’ll have whatever you’re drinking,” he says, setting up the game.
We both sit down on the couch with our Scrabble letter holders facing away from one another. For the next hour, we play Scrabble and joke around. It’s nice to be so at ease with another person who isn’t my child or long-time best friend. I beat him all three times, for the record. “Okay. That wasnotfair. What does quixotry even mean? There is no way that’s a real word.” He sits back and crosses his arms with a mega-pout taking over his handsome face.
“I’ll take my winning twenty-seven points now,thankyouverymuch.I didn’t peg you for a sore loser,” I taunt.
“I am not a sore loser!” he says indignantly, eyes roving the board for a way he can scrape together a win.
“Are too,” I sing-song childishly. Before I can blink, he’s straddling me with both of my hands pinned in one of his. He starts tickling the life out of me with his free hand. “Ryan! Ryan, stop!” I manage to get out between laugh-wheezes. Tears streak down my face as he takes his hands away but keeps me pinned with his thighs. I blow out a breath and say, “See, you really area sore loser.” I can’t help the smile that takes over my face when I see the forlorn look on his.
He gently swipes my tears with his thumbs and laughs at himself. “Okay, I guess you’re right. I’m a littlecompetitive.”
At the same moment, we both seem to realize that he still has me pinned and the air feels thick with static again. I could easily push him off, but I don’t. The room shrinks to just the twoof us and all I can hear is our breaths and my pulse pounding like a war drum. In a blink, he’s off of me and tugging me by the hips to straddle his lap. He moves his hands up my sides, sweeping my rib cage, and grazing the sides of my breasts before his hands meet at the nape of my neck. He starts pulling me toward him and I lean in, closing the distance.
Our lips meet and my belly erupts in flames. The kiss starts out sweet while we learn each other. He threads his hands into my hair, gently tugging, slanting my mouth over his, and suddenly the kiss isn’t sweet anymore. It’s ravenous. A month of careful restraint set free. All the doubts in my brain burn in the flames of this kiss, teeth tugging, tongues twisting, and breaths gasping.
Eventually, Ryan pulls back resting his forehead against mine. His breathing is heavy and his velvet timbre is an octave deeper when he says, “Summer, we need to stop if you don’t want this going any further. You’re in the lead on this, but I only have so much restraint.”
I shift my hips, suddenly feeling his lack of restraint against me. We both groan. “Sorry,” I pant, not sorry at all. I take a few deep breaths, hoping that some oxygen will clear my head, but it’s infused with his warm scent and the mingling of our breaths. “I-I just—” I stutter, leaning back a little to get some breathing room, “I’m obviously not a virgin.”
“Well, me either.” His green eyes shine with mirth.
“But,” I continue, not meeting his eye, “I’ve only had one other partner.”
“I didn’t know for sure, but I figured as much,” he says, playing with the ends of my hair, sending tingles along my spine.
I sigh, “I’m not a virgin, but in some ways I feel like one. I’m guessing you’ve been with more than one person.” I hold up a hand to stop what he’s about to say. “I’m not judging at all. I honestly don’t care if that number is two or twenty-two, but I feel really inexperienced in comparison and sex is kind of a big deal to me. It’s not something I can be casual about.”
Lifting my chin to meet my eyes, he says, “Yes, I’ve had more than one partner. But you and I are new to each other, so we both have some learning to do. Our first time together, whether that's tonight or months from now, will beourfirst time. I’m happy to be a beginner with you.” I grab his hand still under my chin to kiss his knuckles.
“You’d wait months for me to be ready?” I ask, looking at him through my lashes.
