Page 88 of Pour Decisions
“Then what’s the sign for?” she asked, breathless.
I splayed my palm over the front of her throat, my thumb notching under her jaw and tipping her head back. “We both know we’re not stopping at a kiss. And no one but me is going to hear you screaming my name as I pleasure you, Whiskey. No one gets to watch me fuck you until you come so hard you see stars, and I’m not risking being interrupted.”
“Promises, promises,” she said, though her shaky tone belied the attempt at bravado.
“This is your chance to back out. If you don’t want this, we can leave now and pretend it never happened, but…”
“But what?” she prompted.
I could feel it in the air then. Some big, momentous shift was coming. My next words would change everything. We’d dabbled before, flirted with the idea of givingusa go. But this? This was uncharted territory, a life-altering leap off a cliff.
“I’ve wanted you for weeks.Months. If I kiss you right now, there’s no going back. There’s no stopping, no waiting until later. If I kiss you right now, you’re mine. And I promise,” I said, dropping my voice low and bending until my lips brushed her ear, “if you let me have you, I will make it so fucking good for you.”
I felt more than saw the shiver pass through her, as though the air between us had suddenly electrified and zapped her skin. I felt like that too, like a live wire ready to spark.
Delia pulled away, staring into my eyes. “Whatif I don’t want you?”
My heart stopped dead in my chest, though my mind kicked into overdrive. Had things changed for her in the last week? Was that why I’d hardly seen her? A thousand insecurities ran through my brain, memories surfacing of women who only wanted me until they had me. Who preferred the chase to everything that happened after. Had I only been projecting my feelings on her, hoping she’d reciprocate? Had last weekend been an anomaly brought on by endless sparkling wine and forced proximity?
“You don’t?” I asked tentatively.
Her expression remained serious a beat longer before a slow smile unfurled, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Please, QB. Have you seen yourself? Of course I want you.”
I exhaled in a whoosh and bent to nip at her neck. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“I’m good for you,” she said, placing a hand over my racing heart. “Gotta keep you young.”
I grinned and cupped her cheeks. “You are good for me. And now I’m going to be so fucking good to you.”
“Do your worst.”
My mouth was on hers before the words were fully out.
Against her lips I said, “Nah, Whiskey. You’ll get my best. You’ll get everything.”
“Everything?” she asked.
“All of it,” I confirmed, peeling away to stare into her eyes, hoping I conveyed everything I meant with those three words. For good measure, though, I added four more. “Mind, body, and soul.”
My body quivered inanticipation with that proclamation, of him giving himself fully to me before he’d ever even had me, and something deep inside my heart seemed to settle.
This man was endgame for me. I knew it as surely as I knew my own name.
In response, I arched into him, feeling his hard length press against my stomach, his hands anchoring at my waist. His words never failed to turn me into a pile of mush, and I wanted to see what else he could do with that mouth.
“Then give me all you’ve got, QB.”
His lips captured mine in an instant, his tongue sweeping in, exploring. I met him with equal fervor, driving my fingers into his hair and knocking his hat from his head. He pulled away, only far enough to press kisses to my cheeks, to nibble at my jaw and lick a path down my throat. His stubble deliciously scraped my skin.
And then, he was on his knee before me—only one, likedropping down after receiving the snap in victory formation at the end of a football game.
“This little fucking skirt,” Owen said, rubbing the hem between his fingers. “Every time you wear it, I go insane.”
I stilled at the sense of deja vu that washed over me, and though I tried to recover quickly, Owen was too perceptive to have missed it.
“What’s wrong?”
“He—” I croaked, then swallowed and tried again. “He said something similar to me once…about this exact skirt.”
