Page 101 of Perfect Pairing
“This,” I said, then dropped my mouth to hers.
Without the ability to see, I relied on sound and sensation to guide me as I moved my lips against hers. The soft mewling that came from her throat, which had a chuckle rumbling through my chest. The way her hands moved into my hair, tugging, dragging me impossibly closer. I moved my hands off her hips and groped around on the thing behind her, pleased to discover it was a wine barrel sitting upright. Gripping her around the backs of her thighs, I lifted her onto it, putting her at the perfect height to press my hard angles against her soft curves, my aching cock coming to rest perfectly against her stomach.
The pressure had sparks bursting behind my closed eyelids.
“Fuck,” I growled, moving from her lips to trail a path of open-mouthed kisses across her jaw and neck. “I need to get you naked immediately.”
Through heavy breaths, Brie said, “Let’s get out of here. Then I’m yours all night.”
Without another word, I reluctantly pulled my hands from her body, though I grabbed one of hers instead. Hopping off the barrel, she retrieved her phone from the ground and directed the flashlight ahead, navigating us toward our destination.
Less than two minutes later, we came to another hidden door, and when we stepped out, we found ourselves standing in an unfinished basement.
“Where are we?” I asked. “Is this someone’s house?”
“Not anymore,” Brie said, not offering anything else as she pulled me toward an ascending staircase. At the top, she punched in yet another code, and we emerged into a large, modern foyer. To my left was a heavy oak door, the wind howling beyond. To my right was a hallway. Brie moved to the wall and pressed a rocker switch, flipping on the can lights in the ceiling.
Stepping to the center of the room, she held out her arms and said, “Welcome to the Villa.”
“Holy shit,” Ezra breathed.“There’s a fucking smuggler’s tunnel from the winery tohere?”
I grinned, pleased I’d managed to surprise him. The tunnels—and the fact that my family had been smugglers—was a well-kept Delatou secret. I wasn’t even sure if any of my sisters had told their significant others.
Well, okay, that was a lie. IknewElla hadn’t told Alfie, mostly because Dad threatened to disown her if she did.
“Smugglers had to get creative back in those days, you know?” I said, starting the story the same way my dad had when he’d passed it along to me and my sisters. I moved to one of the walls and turned the heat up, grateful my parents hadn’t yet gotten around to winterizing the house. “To anyone paying close attention, particularly law enforcement watching for these types of things, it would’ve been strange for Great-Grandpa Andreas and his buddies to be seen entering and leaving the winery grounds at all hours.
“But having guests come over for a party and covertly sneaking cases of wine out that were then driven off when the guest left with no one the wiser?” I grinned. “Genius. So that’s how the tunnels came to be, and when Prohibition ended, though theyweren’t necessary anymore, my ancestors decided to keep them open and operational.”
Ezra crossed the room and scooped me into his arms.
“Worked pretty damn well for us tonight,” he said against my lips.
“That it did. Now what do you say, Chef? Wanna take me upstairs to my old room and ravish me?”
“Fuck yeah.” He didn’t even set me on my feet before spinning toward the staircase and taking the steps two at a time to the second-floor landing.
“Which one?” he asked, groaning when I bent and nipped at his earlobe.
“Second on the left.”
My sisters and I had spent every summer growing up in this house. Once school was out for the year, Mom and Dad would pack us up and haul us up here, getting away from the city life and letting us run rampant through the vineyards for three months while they tackled tourist season. When they’d built the new house on the point, selling the one in Traverse City and leaving this one behind for good, we turned it into an Airbnb for guests. It was within walking distance to the winery and the grounds, and we offered a shuttle that drove people into town and the city for meals and shopping.
But the room Ezra walked us into, with its white walls, grey-toned hardwood floors, and massive bed topped with a fluffy, white down comforter, would always be mine. No matter how different it looked or how many strangers called it their home away from home for a few days.
“You ever kiss a boy in this room?” Ezra asked as he dumpedme on the bed.
“Never,” I promised him, and he knelt on the mattress, shuffling until he was between my thighs. “How about you change that?”
Ezra folded himself over me, capturing my mouth in a blistering kiss that I felt in every single cell of my body. My nerve endings hummed when I was near him, like my particles were all charged with energy. I wanted him to keep touching me forever, to permanently keep me in that place of bliss.
He broke the kiss only long enough to reach behind his neck and tug his sweater and the tee over his head, revealing his smooth, pale skin and the lean muscles beneath. My hands reached for him, roaming his flesh, and I grinned when goosebumps rose in my wake.
“Your touch,” Ezra whispered. “Fuck, I’ve missed it, honey.”
“I’ve missedyou,” I responded, punctuating my words by curling my palm around his nape and tugging his lips back to mine. We lost ourselves in that kiss for untold moments, in our tongues sliding together, in teeth against lips and errant hums of pleasure.
“Too many clothes,” he said absently when he skated his palms down my sides, over my own sweater.
