Page 123 of Lighting the Lamp
“Try again.”
She shrugs, all fake innocence. “Then maybe you wanted me to see the siding. It’s still very… beige, but it has excellent craftsmanship.”
I take a step closer, closing the distance until I can feel her warmth. “You’re really gonna make me say it?”
“Yes. I enjoy hearing you admit it.” Her smile tilts, slow and dangerous.
That’s it. The last thread of restraint snaps. My hand slides into her curls, cupping the back of her head while my other hand finds her waist, and I kiss her like I wanted to last night.
The leftover adrenaline from the game surges through me, every nerve on fire. She makes a low, breathy sound and fists my shirt, dragging me closer until I’ve got her pinned between me and the siding. My thumb strokes her jaw as I deepen the kiss, swallowing her gasp when I angle my mouth over hers. It’s messy. Teeth catching, breaths tangling, and every inch of her pressed against me until my muscles are loose and tight all atonce. My grip on her waist tightens like I’m holding something I’ll never let go of.
When I finally break away, it’s because I have to breathe. My forehead rests against hers, her fingers still knotted in my shirt. Her lips are kiss swollen, eyes a little dazed, and I know I look the same.
“Better?” she murmurs.
“Better, but I’m not done.” I huff a rough laugh, brushing my thumb over her cheekbone.
“Good,” she mumbles, her smile curving slowly. “Because you owe me.”
The words pull the tunnel kiss into the space between us. The heat I left unfinished, the restraint I swore I’d never use with her again. Last night, I pulled back. But today, in my mom’s backyard, I’m not planning on stopping.
Her gaze flicks toward the corner of the house, toward the voices faintly carrying from the yard.
“Beau…” she says, a warning threaded through my name. “We’re right here. Anyone could?—”
“I don’t care.” My voice is rough, low, and steady. I skim my mouth over hers, not quite kissing, letting the promise sink in. “Let them see how much I want you. Let them know you’re mine.”
Her breath stutters, chest rising faster under my hands.
“You think I’m gonna stop because we’re ten steps from my momma’s kitchen?” I murmur against her ear. “Not a chance, baby. You’ve been driving me crazy all day. Now you’re gonna stand here and take what I’ve been holding back.”
She swallows hard but doesn’t move away.
“Tell me to stop,” I whisper, “and I will, but if you don’t…” My fingers tighten on her hips, pulling her flush against me so she can feel exactly what she’s doing to me. “If you don’t, I’m gonnakiss you again until you can’t remember why you were worried in the first place.”
Her answer is a shaky exhale, and I’m on her before the sound even fades, pressing her back into the siding. The clink of cutlery from the yard drift around the corner, but it’s muffled now, like the world’s gone underwater and the only thing sharp and clear is her.
My hands slide down her sides, slow at first, memorizing the curve of her waist and the flare of her hips. She arches into me just a little, and it’s enough to make my restraint fray.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” I breathe against her mouth. My lips trail to her jaw, her pulse thrumming against my tongue when I nip at the delicate skin there. “Standing there last night in his jersey, looking at me like that…” I shake my head, my laugh low and dark. “You’re lucky I didn’t take you right there in the tunnel. I was thirty seconds from losing it.”
“Beau—” Her fingers curl into the front of my shirt, like she’s torn between holding me close and pushing me back.
“Say my name like that again, and I swear”—I catch her chin, tilting her face toward mine, my eyes locked on hers as my voice dips with need—“I’ll lay you out right here where everyone can see.”
“I’m serious,” she whispers, but it’s weak, and we both know it. “Your family?—”
“Are not here. They’re eating. Not one of them is thinking about us.” My thumb sweeps over her lower lip, feeling the way it trembles under the touch. “But I can’t think about anything else.”
Her breath hitches when my other hand fists in the hem of her shirt, not quite lifting, but close enough for my knuckles to skim the soft skin above her waistband. “All day, Alise. Every time you smiled at someone else. Every time you brushed past me.” I lean in until my mouth is a whisper from hers. “Do youhave any idea how hard it’s been not to drag you somewhere and make you mine all over again?”
Her answer is a quiet, involuntary sound—half gasp, half whimper—and it undoes me. My mouth claims hers again, harder this time. The kiss quickly turns hot, with a messy need you can’t pretend is just a kiss. My hands move without thought: one sliding into her hair, tugging just enough to tilt her head back, the other gripping her hip to pull her flush against me. Alise presses into me like she’s trying to erase the space between us entirely. The distant hum of voices from the yard might as well be miles away now.
“You’re mine,” I growl against her mouth, each word punctuated by the slow drag of my hand up her side. “You’ve always been mine. And the second we’re alone, I’m going to remind you exactly how much.”
Her nails dig into my shoulders, a sharp little sting that sends a low groan rumbling out of me. My thumb sweeps under the edge of her shirt again, higher this time, my skin meeting hers in a rush of heat.
“Beau—” Her voice is breathless now, the sound of someone who’s already halfway gone.
