Page 68 of The Love Dare
Tyler holds Winnie close.
At first, theyoohandahhand jolt and gesture. Then they settle, comfortable in the silence and in each other’s arms, content to just sit and enjoy the show. When the dazzling display begins to slow, he starts watching her instead. A far-off look fills her hazel eyes.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks softly.
She bites her lower lip, pulling it between her teeth as if trying to rein in the smile tugging at the edges of her mouth. He’s overcome with the urge to steal a taste, but once he starts, he won’t be able to stop. “I’m thinking about how I would draw us.”
“Do you do that a lot?”
“No.” She shakes her head as her sly grin deepens. “I mean, yes. But it used to be something that mostly happened when I was reading or daydreaming, you know? Not when I was just…living.”
“And that’s a good thing, right?”
She darts a quick, burning glance his way before turning back to the sky. “It’s a very good thing, Ty.”
He runs his fingers along her upper arm, unable to stop touching her. “Have you ever drawn me?”
Her cheeks flush bright red.
“That often, huh?” He smirks. “Lots ofMrs. Tyler Briggsscrawls in those notebooks of yours?”
“There may be a few…”
He can feel his lips shift into a shit-eating grin, but he doesn’t bother to fight it.
She rolls her eyes. “You don’t need to look so smug.”
“I feel smug.”
Tyler pulls one of her legs over his hip so she’s straddling him. They’ve been out here for a while. The cameras must be gone by now, and if they’re not? Well, he’s lost the urge to care. If someone wants to look, let them. She did call dibs, after all.
“You know, I’ve been following you on Instagram for a while now,” he says slowly, his large hands traveling up her thighs. She watches him through narrowed eyes, highly suspicious. And rightfully so, as he palms her ass and slides her forward. She gasps as her center connects with the part of his body currently surging to life. “Any chance you’ve drawn me like that?”
A wicked gleam enters her eyes. She grabs his shoulders for leverage and leans close, pressing her breasts flush against his chest. With a seductive rock of her hips, she runs her tongue up the side of his neck and murmurs, “Maybe.”
He drops his head back with a groan. “Fuck, Win.”
“Is that what you want to hear, Ty? That I’ve pictured you inside me?”
“Yes.”
“That I’ve imagined my hand wrapped around you?”
“Yes.”
“That I’ve visualized us up against your locker?”
“Yes.”
“On your floor?”
“Yes.”
“In your bed with my legs spread wide?”
“Hell, yes.”
She punctuates each vision with a pointed roll of her hips. He slips his hands beneath her jacket, running his fingers up the burning skin of her back. She shivers as the frigid night air seeps through the opening. But she doesn’t stop. She eagerly finds his lips, no longer interested in speaking. He loves her like this. On top of him. Commanding. In charge. Fully secure in her hold over him. It’s sexy as hell. She should be this confident all the time. If it were up to him, she would be.
