Page 29 of When the Storm Breaks
“We can still be friends,” she breathed out, her arms circling my neck, her fingers tugging on the ends of my hair. She smelled like jasmine. Sexy. Exotic. Intoxicating. Like her. “Goodfriends.”
“Yeah?” I framed her face in my hands and angled it up to mine.
“Yeah.” She swallowed. “I mean... it’s just a kiss, right?”
“Right.”
I dipped my head and took my first taste of what felt like forbidden fruit. Sweet. Tempting. Completely off limits. I would never be the kind of guy a girl like Shiloh Leroux would settle for. Our worlds were light years apart.
But it wasjusta kiss and neither of us had any interest in a relationship.
Her lips parted, and I slid my tongue into her mouth. She sucked on it, eliciting a groan from me as my hands roamed over her tight little body, exploring her dips and curves and her firm, round ass. She kissed me back with an urgency and intensity that made me think it had been too long since she’d been kissed.
I pulled back to catch my breath and gave her ass a little squeeze. “I like your idea ofjustfriends.”
“Shut up,” she growled, fisting my T-shirt in her hands and pulling me closer, erasing the tiny space between us. I laughed, and she shut me up with a kiss then sunk her teeth into my bottom lip before placing a gentle kiss on my mouth. I loved pain mixed in with my pleasure.
Gripping the backs of her thighs, I lifted her off the ground and she wrapped her legs around my waist, grinding her body against my erection. I spun us around and propped her on the countertop, our lips fused, my tongue exploring the depths of her mouth, my dick straining against the confines of my jeans. But I had no intentions of fucking her tonight.
I lifted the hem of her black tank top, my eyes on hers. She licked her kiss-swollen lips, her chest heaving as I slid the material up her body and bit the fleshy underside of her breast through the thin fabric of her white tank top. She arched her back, her fingernails digging into my shoulders. I sucked one of her nipples into my mouth, kneading her other breast with my hand and her hands moved to the back of my head, her fingers tugging on my hair as I bit and sucked her nipple. Her legs cinched tighter around my waist and she rocked her hips.
I released her breast and kissed her lips then pulled back to look at her. “Brody...” she whispered.
“Where’s that dinner you promised me?”
She stared at me for a moment then her eyes widened. “Oh shit. I forgot about the jambalaya.” She shoved me out of the way, slid off the counter and flew to the stove, waving the wooden spoon at me. “If it’s ruined, it’s all your fault.”
“How’s it my fault you can’t keep your hands off me?”
She snorted. “Oh please. You’ve got nothing on my big boy.”
Oh. She was asking for it now. “Your big boy kisses you like that?”
“I slide my big boy into my mouth and then I suck on it. Nice and hard.” She winked at me.
Fuck. She was teasing me, and it was working. My dick jumped in appreciation.
“What else do you do with your big boy?”
Without answering, she turned from the stove and shoved a plate of food at my chest. “Here’s your dinner, Cowboy. Eat up.”
“We’re eating on the porch.”
“Whatever you say.” She did a little curtsy. “I’m at your beck and call.”
How I’d love that. Somehow, I didn’t think that would be the case. The girl had too much fire in her to be at anyone’s beck and call. Fine by me. I loved a good challenge.
I carried my beer and my plate of food out to the porch. It was cooler out here than it was inside the house, the air scented with sweet pine and juniper, the last of the evening sun dipping into the lake. The lake was small, only took up two acres of land, but the water was cool and crystal clear bordered by cypress trees.
Fuck, I was hungry and not just for the food either. There was no table out here, so I set my beer on the arm of the Adirondack chair and without waiting for Shiloh, I took a bite of jambalaya. It was good.Reallygood.
R&B music piped from the portable speakers in the living room and the screen door slammed shut when she joined me on the porch and sat in the chair next to mine, tucking her legs underneath her.
“I forgot to add the shrimp,” she said, guiding a forkful of jambalaya to her mouth. She’d put her hair up again, exposing the column of her neck, her high cheekbones more pronounced.
“Good thing. Would have ruined it. This is good as it is.”
She smirked. “I gave you the burnt rice from the bottom of the pot. It was the least I could do.”
